#i bet those pretty lips of his could do some serious damage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

h2bakugou · 3 years ago

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『 𝗵𝟮𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 』 ✦ 𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗗𝗡𝗜

𝐈𝐕. 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱 ✦ 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀-𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ; between you and izuku’s relationship, sex was always something to touch on later, both literally and figuratively. so when you go to your closest guy friends seeking advice on how to please your boyfriend, they give you much more of hands on lesson than you had expected.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 18+, smut, swearing, porn with plot/little plot, cheating, dub-con, virgin!reader, virginity stealing, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, cum play, spit play, spanking, fingering, bukkake, orgy, split roasting, biting, mentions of porn, partial revenge sex, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, degradation, masturbation, double penetration, recording

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ; this came to me on a whim, i really needed to just get this out of my head. i’ve been in a weird headspace and this prompt just kinda came up and stuck with me. apologies for any spelling/writing errors, this piece was not proofread!!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 6.7k

✦ 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 ✦

Wanting to be the perfect girlfriend for your ever so lovely boyfriend was becoming more of a challenge. Izuku was an angel, and heaven-sent. He was as sweet as he could be. And you loved him for all that he did for you.

Helping you study for your college classes, taking you on cute picnic dates to watch the sunset.

You were lucky to have a guy like him. But having a perfect guy like him meant you could also lose him. And you didn’t want that at all.

The two of you had never dabbled much into sex and all of its activities. There was the time you’d grinded against his lap, or made out while he jerked off under you, but you’d never done anything with him, just like he’d never done anything with you.

You were both nervous, but you wanted your first time together to be something special. Something you could both cherish. You wanted it to be perfect for him.

Since porn was the last place you wanted to take advice from, you swallowed your nerves and bit the bullet, asking your best group of guy friends if you could hang out at their flat for a bit.

And of course, in the group chat, you were all in together, they welcomed you over with open arms.

You settled on their couch instantly recognizing the neutral grey walls as your second home when you weren’t pacing around your own flat.

“So what’s up girlie?” Kaminari asks, already laying his head in your lap like usual.

“I have a really big favor to ask you all.” You stare worryingly at the floor, just past Kaminari’s head.

“What is it? You know we’re here to help.” Kirishima chimes in, honestly expecting some bad news.

“Don’t tell me that shithead Deku’s causing problems.” Bakugou grunts from his spot beside you on the couch.

“No, no. It does have to deal with Deku, but er...” You pause, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat before spitting it out.

“We keep having these sexual moments, and I just wanna please him but I don’t know where to start so I thought I would ask you guys what feels good for men.” You suddenly feel as if the world has caved in, your frame much smaller than anyone else’s in the room.

As if a lightbulb had flicked on simultaneously in the male’s heads, they all gathered around you.

“Well, I know for a start, I like it when they look at me when they blow me. Makes me feel in control.” Kaminari grins.

“Yeah it’s the only time you’re in control.” Sero jokes. Kaminari slaps the ravenette and rolls off of your lap, sitting up beside you.

“So you want to have sex with Izuku finally?” Kirishima asks. You nod sheepishly, still embarrassed to be so open about your sex life, or lack of one, with some of your best friends.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Bakugou asks bluntly. Your silence speaks volumes as the four men around you all seem to get the same idea yet again.

“We can give you some tips!” Kirishima’s words aren’t supposed to have a double meaning, but in a matter of seconds, Bakugou’s standing right in front of you, gazing down at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Take my belt off.” He speaks clearly.

“W-wait you guys are just supposed to teach me-”

“We are. Hands-on teaching seems to show the most progress does it not?” Kaminari butts in, his hands creeping up on your sides, dipping under your arms to undo the buttons on your blouse.

“We’re gonna help you understand what feels good for us! We can teach you better this way, so pay close attention.” Sero stood behind Bakugou, slinging his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder.

“If this is gonna help, I guess it won’t be too bad.” You mumble, your timid hands reaching for Bakugou’s belt.

“Look at me.” Bakugou’s voice ushers for your gaze. Your eyes travel up his clothed chest to his crimson eyes.

“Good girl.” Bakugou grinned, watching as your eyes widened.

“Bet stupid Deku doesn’t praise you.” Bakugou huffs. Your hands eventually undo his belt and now you stare at his abdomen. Bakugou tugs his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest.

You’re in awe.

“Izuku doesn’t look like that.” You think out loud, figuratively drooling over your best friend. Bakugou feels a strong sense of pride as he glances at Kaminari, who’s finally able to tug your shirt off and reveal those pretty tits he’s beat his dick to at night.

Photos of you in swimsuits, or teasing clips you’d posted to your instagram stories late at night in a bra or some sort of revealing top while you hung out with your girlfriends, Denki kept them all in a hidden folder and let out embarrassing moans when his hand jerked his cock at them.

“So pretty.” Kaminari mumbles, biting your shoulder as he unclamps your bra, finally seeing them in person, unobscured.

“Deku’s so fucking lucky.” Kaminari hisses, grabbing them roughly, kneading them in his hands harshly.

You whine, whether in pain or pleasure is unsure, the feeling of Kaminari’s hands kneading your tits like their just dough is making your cunt throb. And it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room when your eyes widen at the size of Kaminari’s bulge as you glance over at him.

“Does he touch you like this?” Kaminari whispers, his fingers twisting your nipples, tugging them between his thumb and forefinger as the rest of his hand continues to cup and massage your breasts.

“N-No. He’s never touched me.” You whine, your head hanging on your shoulders, embarrassed to be so turned on by this. This was wrong-

“Get my cock out. It’s time for you to learn how to suck someone off.” Bakugou places his hand on the back of your head and yanks your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

“Go on, or you won’t like when I do it myself. I’ll use your throat like a fleshlight.” Bakugou’s voice drops, watching as your hands find their way back to his pants.

“How come he gets to get blown first?” Kirishima mumbled to Sero, the pair gradually undoing their own pants, slowly palming over their clothed erections.

“Because I hate Deku the most.” Bakugou grunts.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, staring at Bakugou’s cock in awe.

“I’ve never seen one in person before...” You babble, completely shocked by the pure length and girth of the cock that’s twitching in front of you. Bright pink cockhead, with a prominent vein on the underside, he’s fucking huge. And for a second you wonder if you can even open your mouth wide enough to take even the head of him in your mouth.

But you get your answer soon enough.

“So innocent.” Sero’s ashamedly turned on by your innocence. The way you stared at Bakugou’s cock like it was the only thing in the room was enough to make him excited. He wanted to steal every moment from you. He wanted to ruin you.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Bakugou instructs. You do as you say and you can see Bakugou visibly tense. His shoulders relax as he grips the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your tongue.

“Rule number one. No teeth. Ever.” Bakugou makes this rule very evident as he taps his dick against your tongue.

“If it’s too much, tap me three times.” Bakugou says in a slightly gentler tone, almost as if he knew you were going to need to tap out.

“Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” Bakugou huffs, smirking down at you. You try to think straight but nothing’s working. You search in the dirtiest parts of your brain, trying to remember all the magazines you’d seen telling you how to suck a guy to make him cum, but as you took Bakugou’s cock into your mouth, just past the tip, your jaw was already starting to ache.

Kaminari’s hands had traveled down to your shorts, teasing your bare skin as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

“Holy fuck.” Bakugou murmured, glancing back at Kirishima and Sero, who had now whipped their cocks out, stroking them while their pants sat pooled around their ankles.

“Is she good?” Sero asks, glancing over Bakugou to look down at you. You were clearly struggling, your hands resting in your lap awkwardly, not sure of where or what to do with them.

“Here, get on your knees down here.” Bakugou pulls his cock from your past your lips with a small ‘pop’ sound, his strong arms tugging you down off the couch, leaving Kaminari alone up there.

He quickly hops down too, sitting down behind you, taking the chance to play with your tits some more, biting and kissing your neck and shoulder.

Sero and Kirishima stand on opposite sides, now trapping you between all four males, one on each side of you.

You gaze at Sero’s cock. It was long, and lean, a significant curve set his apart from Bakugou’s. It was a bit thinner but still looked like it could do some serious damage.

Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed to outweigh them both. His cock was fat and hung along with the biggest balls you’ve ever seen-note you’ve seen three pairs so far.

It was thick, long, and veiny. And you were scared. If you could barely fit Bakugou’s in your mouth, you knew for a fact his wouldn’t fit at all.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t ‘cha?” Kirishima teased as your hands daintily reached up to stroke Sero and Kirishima’s cocks. Something you’d seen in a porno once, where a girl was in a position similar to yours.

“Where’d you learn that one?” Kaminari teases, licking your shoulder.

“P-porn.” You stutter out.

“Oh.” Sero laughs.

“What a dirty girl you are.” Kirishima’s hips thrust forward, allowing your hand to complete the first stroke from the tip to the base.

You lean forward and take Bakugou’s cock back into your mouth, staring up at him as he grunts. His hands find their way to your hair, forcing you to take his length.

So much for going in slow and easy.

You’re sure you see the heavens for a moment. Your vision blurs with tears as Bakugou’s cock hits the back of your throat. Your hands stop moving on Sero and Kirishima’s cocks as you take a moment to adjust.

You mewl, your voice reverberating against Bakugou’s cock, the vibrations sending chills down his spine. He takes control, using your mouth as his own personal fucktoy.

And you were completely helpless. Besides the tears on your lashes and the ache in your jaw, your hands returned to jerking off the men beside you, your eyes still set on staring up at Bakugou as he smirked pridefully at you.

And then you felt it. Kaminari’s hands had slid down into your panties, his fingers just barely ghosted over your clit before you forced yourself down to the base of Bakugou’s cock, your hips jerking from the sensation alone.

“Woah there.” Kaminari pulled his hands out, giggling.

“Someone’s never felt that before.” He teases. You tap Bakugou’s leg three times and he pulls out, almost disappointed.

“Are you alright?”

“Does it feel good to be touched down there?” You ask your hands reaching to remove your shorts.

“I think you’re talking to the wrong crowd for that.” Kirishima jokes.

“Dumbass. Of course, it feels good. Don’t tell me you’ve never-”

“No! No! I’ve tried I could just never, make myself...”

“Oh my god.” Kirishima and Sero give each other an almost pitiful stare.

“And Deku’s never pushed sex so I always thought something was wrong with me. What if I can’t cum? How can I please him if I can’t-”

“Hey. Why don’t we help you out? Clearly touching you there evoked some sort of reaction, why don’t you relax and let me see if I can work something out of you.” Kaminari offers, rubbing your sides. You nod shyly.

Spreading your legs similarly, your movements are slow and timid as if you're scared to make a wrong move. Kaminari glances up to the others as they quickly picked up, Bakugou kneeling down to help remove your shorts and panties, which had a small damp spot, one Bakugou didn’t miss.

“You’re already soaking your panties. You’re enjoying this.” Bakugou retorted, staring in awe of your glistening cunt, one his childhood best friend had claimed before him.

It ate away at Bakugou daily. Seeing the two of you walk to classes together, or whenever you’d post snaps of you laying on his chest after he fell asleep during a movie night.

Or the way he’d call you baby in front of all your friends. It pissed Bakugou off. He was in love with you.

But oh was Bakugou going to take this chance by its reigns. He was going to show you exactly what you were missing being with that stupid nerd.

And even more so. Bakugou was going to take your virginity away from you, and away from the guy who you clearly thought was going to.

“Damn Deku really is lucky.” Sero whispered, his eyes locked tight onto your dripping cunt. It was beautiful. Sero had his fair share of one-night stands, and hookups, but he’d never seen one that looked like yours. God, it was captivating. He wanted to feel your tight, plush walls hugging his cock as he fucked into you from behind.

And then there was Kirishima, who stared in awe as well. His eyes wandered your naked body and wondered if you were truly the same girl going out with Deku.

Part of you being in a standing relationship was so enticing. Kirishima was nothing short of respectful, but wanting to destroy any sort of expectations you had for your first time with Deku sent his brain and cock into overdrive.

And there you were, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping your essence onto the soft carpeted floors, your back pressed into Denki's chest as his fingers reached down and spread your pussy apart.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt like you were going to implode. Your senses were heightened, and the slightest touch between your thighs made you squirm. Denki chuckled as the other males salivated over you, picking their jaws off the floor was the next step.

"Go on, why don't you find her clit." Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest with an evil grin.

"Oh shut the fuck up." Kaminari's fingers moved from the lips of your cunt to the hardened bud, and with one tiny little touch, you let out an embarrassing whine. Denki grinned as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion over your clit, watching how you quickly clamped your legs together.

"Awe no, let them see just how good I am with my fingers." Kaminari cooed in your ear, using one hand to pry your legs back open, Sero bending down and grabbing the other, forcing them apart. You whined in pleasure as his fingers worked wonders against your clit, your back arching against his chest.

"Denki!" You cried out, feeling something building up inside of you. Kaminari grinned but Bakugou wasn't having it.

"Oi, enough. I wanna cum down her throat." Bakugou grunted, yanking you up to your feet from your forearm.

"Sit on his face and suck my cock, slut." Bakugou spat, your eyes widening. You nodded, glancing back at Kaminari who was already moving for you to do so. You were nervous, feeling awful for sitting on his face, but you didn't regret a thing when you felt Kaminari's tongue swipe through your folds.

The cold steel of his tongue piercing made you shiver as his tongue flicked across your clit making you whine.

"'m ready." You choked out, glancing at Bakugou.

"Us first." Sero stepped in, gripping the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, similarly to how Bakugou had done. Kirishima stepped up and nudged his cockhead against Sero's, the two unphased by it.

"I-I can't take both-"

"So take turns." Bakugou said bluntly. You glanced up at Sero and Kirishima, worryingly trying to take Kirishima's cock into your mouth first. You made it just barely past the tip of his fat cock, before you realized your attempt was futile. You brought a hand up to help, stroking the base of his cock while your mouth worked past the tip. Your free hand returned to jerk Sero off, your ego racing as you heard his own grunts of pleasure.

"She's a quick learner." Kirishima grins, his hand resting on your head as he guides you gently to take more of his cock into your mouth. Kirishima is saddened when you stop and switch to try and do the same for Sero.

Halfway through the transition, Kaminari's tongue prods through your entrance, making you stop. Your shoulders tense up and you freeze, quickly hunching over, grinding your cunt against Kaminari's mouth, the tips of his nose brushing against your clit.

"Fuck!" You cry, feeling yourself lose control. Your mind turns white for a moment, and all the pleasure begins to hurt as you want to leap off of Kaminari's tongue. But his strong arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place stop you from doing so.

"It-it hurts! Please." You pant, your lips parted as you mewl against his face.

"He fucking did it. He made her cum." Sero groaned. Your head shot up, staring at the ravenette.

"T-that was-"

"A female orgasm? Yeah. Felt weird and tingly, and when he kept going it hurt. Fun huh." Sero grins.

"Dude, let her explain it." Kirishima sighs.

"It felt good. Really good. I've never felt anything like that before." You go to continue your job of blowing Sero, but he stops you.

"Let's take this to Bakugou's room." Sero smirks.

You're on your feet in a matter of seconds until the boys toss you onto Bakugou's cozy bed, the one you've crashed on multiple times while he was away or while he slept on the couch.

This time, Sero was quick to take control of the situation, ushering you to the edge of the bed where your head hung off. Sero smiled down at you, tapping his cock against your lips again as you eventually opened it for him. Before sliding it in, Sero leaned down and spit into your mouth, cutting any possible complaints off by shoving his cock down your throat.

"Fuck." Sero dragged out, watching as Kirishima took the opportunity to plant himself between your thighs, his tongue diving into your cunt. Your moans were silenced by Sero's cock as he fucked your throat raw. Kaminari was the only one who hadn't been inside your throat. But he was doing just fine, teasing himself with his hand, forcing himself to stop every time he felt like cumming at the sight of you being used by his friends.

"She tastes so good. Want more." Kirishima muttered against your cunt, using one hand to spread you open as his tongue wrecked your clit, his other hand dipped a single finger inside your tight entrance.

"She's so fucking tight." Kirishima commented, rubbing his middle finger along your folds, his knuckle just barely grazing the fleshy walls of your hole.

"I bet." Bakugou muttered.

"Can I fuck her thighs?" Kaminari asked, eyes bright with excitement. It was something he'd dreamt about doing. Feeling your plush thighs squeeze his cock, all while gripping handfuls of your tits, cumming on your tummy. It was a thought he could get off to over and over again.

"Shit. Gonna cum!" Sero groaned, sliding his cock past your lips once more, his cock twitching as he shot his hot load down your throat.

The next few seconds were fuzzy. Sero pulled out and shot up, cum leaking from past your lips. You couldn't swallow it. Shamefully spitting up, feeling horrible, it dropped onto your stomach and began to leak and make a mess.

"Awe, poor thing. Never had anyone cum in your pretty mouth before huh?" Sero patted your head, tilting it back so you could look up at him. Your lips were glossy and glistening with spit and cum, but your eyes were watery.

"Sorry! I-"

"Don't apologize. I should've just cum all over this pretty face instead." He smirked, leaning down, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. Kirishima decides to add another finger, and you're gone, moaning into Sero's mouth, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to turn your knuckles white.

Your thighs clamp over Kirishima's ears, and you find yourself grinding against his tongue and fingers, back arching off of the mattress. Bakugou just stands in awe, whipping out his phone to record the whole scene.

"Alright let Kaminari have his fuckin' turn." Bakugou groans, tugging Kirishima away, watching how your legs twitch as you cum for the second time. You're so sensitive and you don't know why. For the first time, after Sero pulls away, you see Kaminari's cock.

It's a little larger than average. It's pretty and slightly fatter at the head than at the base, and much like Sero's, as a pretty curve in it. Kaminari is eager to sandwich his cock between your thighs, watching how he smiles as he leans down to paw at your tits.

Just as he slides through your thighs, you feel the friction of his cock glide against your cunt, and suddenly you're awakened to yet another new feeling. Your back falls flat against the mattress again, your eyes floating back up to Sero who hovers over you. You go to reach for his cock but he shakes his head and yanks Kirishima over to his spot.

"Be a good girl for Kirishima, he likes to fuck pretty little mouths like yours." Sero grins evilly. You stare at the monster cock above your lips and you hesitate. How does he fucking live with a cock like this? Your cunt throbs just looking at it. You can imagine it buried in your cunt, your legs shaking as you cum over and over again on it.

Kaminari panted as moaned as his cock fucked your thighs, his hands still kneading your tits as Kirishima forced his cock down your throat, this time much slower than Bakugou or Sero had done. Your jaw ached in a much more intense pain. But you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring it.

"That's it, take my fucking cock down your throat like the stupid little fucktoy you are." Kirishima degraded you. You let your hand travel down between your legs, forcing it to your cunt while not disrupting Kaminari's pleasure.

"Aw look, she wants to cum again." Kaminari quickly snatches your frisky hand back up, slowing his ministrations and slowing the friction of his cock grinding against your cunt.

Kaminari and the rest of the men hear your failed attempt at a whine as you struggle with Kirishima's cock in your mouth. Kaminari's hips move slowly and smoothly, humping your thighs like a needy pup.

Pining your hands to the mattress as he grinds his cock between your thighs, Kaminari lets out a huff before pulling himself away from you.

Kaminari groans and slinks over to Bakugou, whispering something in his ear which only elicits a smirk on his lips. Bakugou passes the word onto Sero who passes it onto Kirishima like a game of telephone.

Suddenly Kirishima's drawing his cock from your mouth and Bakugou's tugging you up.

"Get on your knees." Bakugou instructs, forcing your face down into the mattress, hiking your ass up into the air. Bakugou's palm comes down against your ass, the sound echoing in the full room. You whine into the sheets as he does it again, this time letting his hands grip your cheeks, spreading you apart.

"God, you're fucking dripping." Bakugou's not worried about the mess you've made smearing Sero's cum over his sheets, he'll have to wash them after what's going to happen.

Bakugou leans down into his mattress, tasting you for the first time. You clench the sheets between your hands, mewling in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit and scoops up your juices, most of it dribbling down his chin. He's eating you out like he'd been starved. You're cumming in a matter of seconds as he continues.

"'s too much! Please!" You cry out, your cunt aching in overstimulation. Kaminari had denied you once, and it didn't take much for the need to cum to overtake you.

"Gonna have to fuckin' punish you for that. Did I say you could cum, bitch?" Bakugou pulls away, spanking you once more.

"N-no!" You cry.

"'m sorry!" You apologize, hoping your efforts would spare you humiliation. But oh how wrong you were.

A searing pain rips through you as Bakugou's cock pushes past your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth hangs open, a small cry ripping through your throat.

"It hurts!" You cry. Suddenly, the searing pain stops. Bakugou has pulled out, sighing as he moves onto the bed, waving for the guys to join.

Bakugou guides you down onto his cock, however, this time it's more like sitting on his lap. He's propped against his headboard, and you ease down as best as you can. It hurts, but Kirishima and Sero coddle you, kissing on your neck and chest, leaving Kaminari to suck on your nipples, flicking his tongue across your the hardened buds.

Bakugou bottoms out inside of you and all you can feel is the stretch. It hurts, more than anything you've ever felt. It's overwhelming and you can't think at all. Bakugou doesn't move. He rests inside you until you give a weary moan.

"Better?" He asks softly.

"Y-yeah." Your arms sling over the shoulders of the redhead and ravenette attacking your shoulders and neck with kisses and bites.

Bakugou's hands rest on your hips and help you up and down as you begin to bounce on his cock, the tip nudging against a spongey spot inside you, forcing moans to spew from you like a shook-up soda.

"Her moans are so fuckin' dirty." Kirishima speaks against your skin, sinking a hand down to your cunt, his fingers beginning to work at your clit, making you spew even lewder sounds as your moans turn to mewls and cries of pleasure.

"Who knew she could moan like that?" Kaminari laughed, palming at your breasts. You feel embarrassed, letting these men rip you to shreds while trying to learn.

It then dawns on you how you'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. You came here willing to learn, hoping to bring back something to help Izuku, but you'd completely blanked. You couldn't really remember anything they'd taught you, or if they'd taught you anything at all. Once you sucked Bakugou's cock, it'd all happened so fast.

Sitting on Denki's face, stuffing your face full of Kirishima and Sero's cock, cumming on Bakugou's tongue while being face down on his bed. It was all a strange feeling.

And now as your mind began to turn blank, vision clouding from pleasure, you realized you were fixing to cum again, this time from Bakugou's cock. All your pain had melted away-though a dull ache still remained in your abdomen, and turned to pleasure. You were cumming.

You. Were cumming.

Bakugou had taken your virginity.

And Bakugou had come to the same conclusion. As your cunt squeezed and pulsed against his aching cock, so desperately wanting to spill his load inside you and see you plump with his kid, claiming you for his own, stealing you away from that stupid fucking nerd you were with, he realized he had been the one in the end to claim you, and your virginity.

It was a sick and twisted sense of pride, to really think he had any say-so over your body. But there was something so devilishly hot to say that he'd been your first.

"Bakugou!" You cried out, your nails digging into the skin of Kirishima and Sero. Bakugou's cock continued to thrust into you.

"Yeah take my fuckin' cock. Take it you fuckin' whore. Gonna fuck you until you're braindead." Bakugou muttered, reaching a hand up to grip your throat, forcing your back against his chest.

"I wanna see you full of Kirishima's cock. Think you could take it? He'd rip you apart." Bakugou grinned, setting his friend up next. You shook your head against his hand on your throat.

"It's too big!" You cried, hoping that he'd listen to you. But he didn't. Instead, you found yourself back on the mattress, this time on your hands and knees. Weakly you kept yourself upright as Kirishima positioned at your entrance,

"Gonna use you like the little cocksleeve you are." Kirishima chuckles, watching as you squirm as the tip grazes your tight hole. Your cunt is dripping, every little touch seems to make you whine, and you can't tell if you've peed yourself or if you're just that wet. You think the former would be less embarrassing, but you decide to just stop thinking about it, and instead, you thank your body for all the natural lubrication it's making for Kirishima's cock.

Kaminari takes your mouth, sliding his cock inside and finally getting to feel what everyone else had. You can't speak, you can barely make any sounds with how raw they've fucked your throat. And you're painfully aware that they hadn't even bothered to slap on a condom. Not that you'd minded, they'd shown you time and time again that they were clean, and you were happy they'd taken the steps to have safe sex with any partner they had.

Kirishima's fingers leave bruises on your hips, gripping you with force. He sheathes himself inside you and you swear you feel yourself ripping in half.

It's so much, all at one time.

"Holy shit she fucking took you all." Bakugou says shocked, almost as if that was something to be proud of.

"He sent a chick to the ER. That phone call was awful." Sero teases the redhead for one of his mishaps.

"I didn't purposely hurt her! I was just trying to have fun, didn't think my cock was capable of tearing her fuckin' vagina." Kirishima feels a bit awkward talking about a terrible sex story while he's plowing into you, especially since you're too cockdrunk to even realize what's happening.

"Would you two shut up?" Kaminari's grabbing a fistful of your hair as he tilts your head back, sliding his cock down your throat, smiling down at you.

"You're doing such a good job. So fuckin' cute swallowing my cock like that." Kaminari praises. His praises make you feel warm and fuzzy, and you think for a moment, this is what it's like to be loved. But then images of Deku cross your mind. And your gaze drops, and you feel ashamed. You feel dirty.

You repeat to yourself that this is just a learning experience and nothing more. You'd never do this because you weren't satisfied in your relationship. No. You were doing this for Deku. You wanted to show him you knew what you were doing. You wanted to show him he could fuck your throat and make you cum with his tongue.

Kirishima grunted, his cock stretching even further, reminding you of the pain Bakugou had put you through the first time he'd entered you. It burned, but it became tolerable after a while.

"Shit, she's so fuckin' tight. Wanna cum inside." Kirishima groans. Your ears perk up at his words. You want to tell him no, but you can't. You don't. He pulls out before he gets the chance to and you're relieved.

"Sero, your turn." Kirishima trades places with Sero who was stroking his cock watching you get dicked down on both ends. Sero's cock takes you down an undiscovered path.

It seems every time he slides into you, his cock nudges against that spot inside you, making you cry in pleasure as Kaminari swaps places with Bakugou, his cock rammed down your throat once more.

Things become blurry, and all you remember is cumming again and again. When Sero nears his climax, he swaps places with Kaminari and Kirishima takes his chance to fuck your throat.

Kaminari's pace is different from Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou's. He has no restraint. He fucks you fast, and hard, sending your body forward with each heavy thrust. He might be a bit smaller compared to the males, but he surely makes up for it.

"Out of everyone here, Kaminari has the most experience." Sero chimes in, patting his shoulder while he huffs, pounding into you until you're cumming around his cock, your milky white juices leaking out everywhere.

"She's making such a mess. How pitiful. So how fucked out are you, gorgeous?" Sero asks, watching as Kirishima pulls his cock out from your mouth, drool and saliva dripping past your lips as you choke out a moan.

"Feels-s so good." You babble, your head hangs on your shoulder as you bury it into the mattress, moaning as Kaminari fucks you into yet another orgasm. His stamina is incredible considering you thought he was still new to sex. Sorry Kami.

"She's fuckin' out of it jesus christ." Bakugou mumbles, pulling Kaminari out from between your cunt. Bakugou flips you onto your back and stares at you in amazement. Your legs are shaking and you're still making noise, whining about how you want more and how empty you feel.

"Please, fill me up." You whine, staring at the boys.

"With a face like that, how could we resist?" Kirishima grins, slapping Sero on the ass. Sero rolls his eyes and joins you on the bed.

"Think you can take two at once gorgeous?" Sero coos, laying down beside you, ushering you to lay on top of him. Your mouth drops open as you lower yourself onto him and lay back, watching as Bakugou saunters around to the front. He grins as he lines his cock up at your entrance, just barely pushing his tip inside.

"Kirishima stretched her out good for us to use her like the little whore she is. God, she's so fucking good at this I almost don't wanna give her back." Sero whines against your back, kissing your bare skin as Kaminari watches in amazement as Bakugou sinks his cockhead inside your already full cunt.

"So full. Want your cocks inside me." You manage to blurt out as Bakugou grips your thighs, shoving his cock into your stuffed pussy. It wouldn't fit all the way, but it threw you over the edge.

"Maybe she needs that filthy mouth of hers full of cock again." Kirishima's hand strokes his cock, eyeing Kaminari. Kaminari eagerly hops onto the bed, his knees hitting against Sero's arm as he taps his cock on your lips.

"Come on angel, wrap those pretty lips around my dick." Kaminari smiles, watching as your mouth lolled open. Sero's arms wrapped around your tummy, holding you against him as he fucked up into you, his cock rubbing against Bakugou's inside of you, both cocks rubbing against your walls, making you feel insanely good.

Kirishima was not going to let this moment go to waste. Snatching Bakugou's phone, he began to record, calling you a slut for them.

"Look at this cockdrunk whore. Stuffed full of three fuckin' cocks." Kirishima laughed, holding the phone near your pussy, making sure to record how Bakugou and Sero abused your cunt.

"What would Deku do if he got this nasty little clip huh? Bet he'd call you a slut. Watching his friends fuck your little virgin cunt until you're braindead." Kirishima grinned as he moved and set the phone up to continue recording for the rest of the session.

"Wanna fuckin' fill you up." Bakugou grunted.

"Teach that nerd a fuckin' lesson about how to fuck a woman." He continued.

"She's making such a mess, look at that pretty pussy. So sloppy." Kaminari moaned as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, trying your best to take him into your mouth. The angle was a bit awkward but you managed, eventually pulling him into your mouth.

"God let's hurry this up, I can't take much more of her cunt squeezing me." Sero huffed into your back. He was going to cum again if he kept going. He wanted to fill you up like everyone else did, but he wanted to see his cum all over your pretty face.

Bakugou pulled out first leaving Sero alone inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugou tapped his cock against your sensitive clit, your cries no longer silenced by Kaminari's cock since he too had pulled his cock from your mouth.

"Get down on the floor, on your knees." Bakugou instructed. Hazily you lifted yourself from Sero's cock, slightly amused by the moan he let out as he slid out of you. You stumbled onto the floor, sitting patiently on your knees as they gathered around you, this time smushing themselves to all have a view of you in the front.

"Can't wait to see you covered in cum." Kaminari spoiled the surprise, his hand jerking his cock. You stared up at Bakugou. Leaning in you licked the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back. You took turns swapping between the males until they were all helping you out, stroking their cocks at fast paces until Bakugou came.

Hot ropes of cum stuck to your face and chest as Kaminari came second, Sero third, and Kirishima fourth. It dribbled down your chin as you stared up at them, each of them smiling proudly at you.

"So fuckin' slutty. Look at her, so fucked out." Sero said breathily. They all rushed to grab their phones, snapping pictures of you covered in their cum. You just sat quietly, staring up at them as your chest heaved, your cunt throbbing.

"So what'd you learn?" Bakugou leans down, a handful of your hair holding your head back so he could look into your eyes.

"I-I like being stuffed full of cock." You babbled. Your cheeks were stained with his cum.

"Whose cock?" Bakugou's eyes narrowed.

"Yours." You parted your lips, still miraculously trying to catch your breath.

"Good girl." Bakugou praised. The other boys gathered around you, leaning down with towels to help clean you up.

It took about fifteen minutes to clean you up entirely, but afterward, they helped dress you and treated you to some dinner. You were nothing but smiles the entire time.

Before you left their apartment, Bakugou pulled you aside.

"Record your time with Deku so we can give you another lesson." He whispered into your ear, an evil smirk on his lips. You pulled away from him shyly, nodding.

"Thank you for teaching me." You thanked the men as you walked toward the door, an obvious limp in your step.

"Do you need a ride home angel?" Sero asks, ready to hop in his car and drive you over to your shared apartment with Deku.

"I think I'll be okay. I drove here anyway." You giggle. Sero smiles and glances at the others. Visions of your face covered in cum plague Sero's thoughts and he wants to slam you against the front door and fuck you all over again.

The same image is running through everyone's head as they stare at you as you leave, wanting you to stay. But it's too late when the door shuts and they're left alone as if nothing had happened.

"What happened doesn't leave this fuckin' apartment." Bakugou states, trudging off down to his room to put his freshly washed sheets on the bed.

When you arrive home, Deku's happy to see you. He doesn't question where you'd been, he knew you were with the boys hanging out. He smiles when you kiss him, and he's nothing but unaware of what had gone down.

He doesn't know about the cocks that had been stuffed inside your cunt, or a spot or two of dried cum that the towel might've missed that you'll clean up in the shower soon. He doesn't know about how dirty your mouth got and how it was filled with his friend's cocks only hours earlier.

He cuddles you sincerely until your hand begins to wander, palming him through his boxers.

"I'm ready." You smile sweetly, ready to put all that you had learned to the test.

✦ 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ✦

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book-of-baba-fett · 4 years ago

Text

A Lucky Hand - Fives x Fem!Reader

Crossposted on A03

Fives finds himself running low on credits during a game of pazaak with his favorite mechanic, but a risky wager on his end might end up benefitting both of you.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Oral Sex (f/m receiving). Drinking, PiV intercourse, (let me know if I miss anything!)

***

“And I win another round! Come on Fives, at this rate you should just hand me all your credits,” You tease at the clone sitting across the table from you. Your smirk is met with a scowl that doesn’t reach his sparkling amber eyes. The 501st is on leave on Coruscant, and they're one of your favorite clone battalions. You work as a mechanic at the military base where their barracks are, and once the war started up you got to know a bunch of the troops as they came through to ask for your help on any equipment they damaged on their last deployment. This is how you got to know Fives particularly well; if something could break, Fives would find the way to do it.

After he had annoyed you enough times by breaking the gear you had just fixed for him, he started to repay you by inviting you to hang out in parts of the base that were off limits to most of the civilian workforce, like the break room you were in this night. A few troopers were scattered around; most had early shifts on the base tomorrow so they couldn’t spend their free time at 79s that particular night. This meant they were entertaining themselves more tamely than usual but for many of the troopers this meant drinking ale and gambling on games or podraces they were watching on the holo, or in Fives and your case Pazaak.

Fives begrudgingly slides you the credits on the table and starts to deal out the next round. He was not a man who took defeat easily. Since his shifts for the day were over, he was only armored from the waist down and has his blacks on top. You’ve been drinking some ale during the night and you couldn’t help but notice the way the fabric clung to his body, particularly his broad chest and hard biceps.

Woah watch it there, you work around a million guys who look the same as him. Once you let those thoughts in there’s no going back. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him even without the alcoholic influence. Fives drove you crazy half the time, but he was just so damn hot you let it slide.

“You do have a point,” Fives suddenly spoke up and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. Once you notice he’s looking through his utility belt, you realize he’s answering your previous statement. “You’ve cleaned me out, I don’t have any more to bet tonight. That is…unless you’re not opposed to wagering something a little more interesting?”

You take a sip of your ale, draining the bottle. “And what do you propose?”

Fives looked around the room, making sure none of his brothers were paying too close attention to the two of you. Luckily, they were all focused on their own entertainment. His face broke into a grin as he looked into your eyes and leaned in closer to you.

“If I win this round, you give me a handjob,” he whispered into your ear.

You huff out a laugh to act nonchalant, but the truth is you feel a flutter in your stomach and a flush to your cheek by the suggestion. Everything between you too had just been friendly before, and while Fives had gotten flirty occasionally you never thought he was serious. He was Fives, that’s what he was like with everyone.

“Well, that is an interesting suggestion. What do I get if I win then?” you reply, trying to sound as transactive as possible; like this was some normal deal with a trader.

“If your hand wins, I’ll finish all the reports and paperwork you need to do for any 501st related repairs while we’re on this leave.” Ok, this got you excited but not in the core warming way his previous suggestion did; that would be a big relief on your workload. And hey, his hand has been terrible all night, luck seems to be in your favor.

“All right, you’re on.” You smirk and he flashes that devilish grin at you.

You win the first round easily; Fives was being very conservative with his hand and didn’t seem to want to play too many cards. He either has nothing in his deck, or he’s really holding out for something big.

The second round lasts a few minutes longer, but you overdraw your cards and Fives wins which meant the match was tied before the 3rd and final round. Fives teasingly stretches his arms over his head, making you roll your eyes at him.

The third round goes on the longest; you had used up most of your set deck already so you were being careful to not overdraw again, but you play your last card. You didn’t reach the 20 total needed to win, but being at 19 you felt confident in your choice. Fives drew another card from the deck, that pushes his total to 22. If you finished the round with a number over 20, that meant you lost so you begin to shift back in your seat and put your feet up on the table.

“Sorry, Fives, better luck ne-,” you start but he cuts you off, wagging a finger in your direction. He places his last card on the table: a -2. Making his total 20, and him the winner. You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief as the clone copied your victorious pose – stretching back with his arms behind his head and his feet coming to rest on the table as those amber eyes locked with yours.

***

“OK Listen, I was being a little shit. I had a terrible hand; I didn’t think I would actually win. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You brought Fives back to your workshop in the base – the best place you could think of for some privacy. It was late so all the other mechanics should have left already. It was small, but there was enough space for a worktable and the small bench that you and Fives are sitting at. His voice was soft; you knew he could be a bit of an ass, but you knew he was being honest and the last thing he would want to do was make you uncomfortable.

“Nope, I don’t back out of a deal.” You smirk at him and his edge seemed to come back once he accepted that you were ok with this. Your hand rests on his armored thigh and slowly makes its way up to his codpiece. “Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious about what you’ve got going on under all the armor.”

A devilish grin grows on his face as his own hand meets yours. He fiddles with the straps on his codpiece and pulls It away, revealing an already sizeable bulge in his blacks. He pulls your hand onto him and holds it there. You feel your core flutter as he hardens in your hand.

“Well, I’m more than happy to show off for you, baby,” His voice is lower and has a raspy edge to it. You push his hand aside and slowly undo his pants, releasing his cock. You slowly grasp your hand around the base of him, and you can’t help but lick your lips looking at it. His tan cock is thick and long, and already swollen at your light touch. His breath is low at your touch, he places a hand on your shoulder, wordlessly begging you to move.

You take your hand away for a second to lick it and you firmly hold him again. You slowly began to stroke up and down, feeling his velvety soft skin in your hand. You flick your thumb over his head, smearing a bit of the precum that was already leaking from it. You can’t help but want to taste him. You increase your pace and Fives’s grip on your shoulder tightens, his breath increasing. You look at his face, he smiles back at you, his pupils blown out and filled with lust.

“I had a hunch you would be good with your hands.” He breathed out, trying to hold onto his composure. You wanted to wreck that pretty face. As you continue working his cock up and down in your hand, he sighs out and bends his head backward, hitting the wall. You take this pause in attention to bend your head down and start licking the head of his cock.

“Fuck!” he cursed out, sighing your name. You slowly move off the bench to kneel in front of him. You continue to jerk him and lick a long strip up the underside of his cock. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Oh well, if you’re not happy with it I can always stop,” you tease and his eyes darken with hunger. He responds by placing a hand on the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“I’m more than happy sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about what those pretty lips would look like wrapped around my cock for ages.” He gently guides your head back to him, and you open up wide to take more of him in.

You start slowly, he’s so thick it’s hard to fit him all in. You press your tongue underneath his hard cock as you slowly bob up and down on him, using your hand to help jerk the rest of him. Once you adjust, you push him further into your mouth until you feel him hitting your throat. His hips thrust up, trying to feel more of you and his hand presses your head closer into him. You feel your gag reflex kicking in as he releases you, gasping for air as you come up.

“Was that, ok?” Fives asks, and once you smile and assure him it is, he grasps your hair again. “I want to fuck your pretty mouth; can I do that sweetheart?”

“Yes, use me” you gasp, and he doesn’t waste a second. He slides himself back into your mouth and begins thrusting himself while holding your head in place, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. You’re so turned on by this, having this strong man use you to chase his pleasure. You reach one of your hands in between your legs, rubbing your clit over your jumpsuit, just trying to appease your needs with any form of friction. Fives notices and groans.

“Is this turning you on? Me choking you with my dick?” He grunts while thrusting into you. You hum in agreement, the vibration giving him more pleasure. His head knocks back against the wall, beads of sweat appearing at his forehead. He’s close. “Fuck, I’m gonna come down that pretty throat of yours. Then, I’m gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours, you like the sound of that?”

You moan and look up at him, pulling your head away from his grasp. He looks wrecked, ready to cum and he’s about to push your head back down when you say, “Let me finish you off.”

His hand is still on your head but not pulling you down anymore. His cock is coated with your saliva, and you jerk him rapidly again then take him back into your hollowed out mouth, You use both of your hands, twisting as you jerk him and suck on his head. He starts gasping your name, warning you he’s about to come. You slide him completely into your mouth, where his tip is partially down your throat as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth and taste his thick, salty cum spurt in your mouth. He holds you down while he thrusts out his orgasm. You swallow as he’s already pulling you up off the ground into his lap and crushes your lips with a kiss.

“You’re wearing too much.” His voice is raspy from his release, but he’s focused on fulfilling his earlier promise to you. His hand finds the zipper at the front of your jumpsuit, and he tugs it down to your waist, his lips never leaving yours. He roughly pulls down the shoulders, leaving you in just your bra from the waist up. He moves his kisses down to your neck, and he sucks a love bite right where the collar line of your suit would have been.

You feel like putty in his strong hands, moaning at even his softest touches. He grabs one of your breasts over your bra, his thumb rubbing where your nipples are peaking through. He uses his free hand to reach around you and effortlessly undoes the clasp on your bra. He leans back to stare at your exposed chest, eyes glancing over every inch of you and back up to meet you own. You feel yourself blush, but you’re hungry for more. You lean back in to kiss him more, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He wraps your legs around his waist and slowly rises. He carries you over to your worktable, where he uses his arms to clear off the paperwork and tools that had been sitting there.

“Sorry if any of that was important,” He mumbles into your mouth. He places you at the edge of the table and makes quick work of removing the rest of your jumpsuit, leaving you in just your panties before him. He gently pushes you backward onto the table, kissing along your neck and sucking at each nipple before he moves his way down your body.

Your breath hitches as he reaches your hips, leaving another love bite as he gets there. His hands spread your legs open for him, propped against the edge of the table. His kisses trail over your panties and you can feel his breath on your clothed entrance. He lets out a dark chuckle.

“So wet, and I’ve barely even touched you. Someone’s needy.” He places a kiss right over your clit and you feel like you’re ready to lose any control you had over your urges. His fingers reach around the waistband of your panties as he slides them down your legs. He spreads your legs again, lifting one to rest on his should as he caresses and kiss it; his goatee offering a ticklish yet pleasurable sensation. He takes his time teasing you, kissing and licking around your joints and hip bones, his calloused hands squeezing your thighs. You begin to whimper under his touch, trying to rotate your hips so he’ll pay attention to the one area he’s ignored.

“Need something, mesh’la?” He grins up at you.

“Dammit Fives, touch me!”

“I already am, you need to be more specific than that. And maybe try asking nicer?” That little shit.

“Please, Fives. Your mouth. I need it. On me. Please.” You prop yourself on your elbows to look at him. God, you want to wipe that cocky grin off his face, but you need him too much to fight him right now.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” And he dives right in.

His tongue licks a stripe up your slit and you can’t hold your moan in. He uses his fingers to open up your folds as his tongue finds your clit. He flicks it expertly, keeping his eyes one you as you began to fall apart under his mouth. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks gently at first, reading your reactions. He switches up between sucking and licking, swirling his tongue, and lightly grazing his teeth around your sensitive bud, causing you to cry out in pleasure. He’s too good at this, damn him for being so good at this. You have too much pent-up attraction in your system, too much of a need for him, you’re going to come soon.

You can’t prop yourself up anymore, and you fall back onto the table. Your hands search for anything to grab onto, to ground yourself in the moment. His tongue continues its onslaught against your clit, Fives is using one of his hands to press your hip down, preventing you from moving too much. Just when you think you can’t be more overwhelmed, you feel one of his thick fingers pressing into your entrance. You moan and clench around him, but he can tell you want more so he slips a second finger in. He slows his tongue to match the speed of his fingers dragging in and out of you, only to increase his pace as your body welcomes him in.

“So tight around my fingers, baby. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” Your moans start to pitch higher and higher, your release imminent. He can tell you’re almost there, his fingers press even deeper into you and curve slightly, finding that spongy spot inside of you. You cry out louder.

“Yes, please Fives! Right there!”

He doesn’t relent his pace with his fingers as his mouth latches to suck around your clit. You can’t string two thoughts together; all you can focus on is the electricity pulsing through your body. All you can hear are your moans and the filthy noise from his fingers and mouth pleasuring your pussy. Your legs are quaking around his head, your hips fighting to leave the table but being held into place by your source of pleasure. You’re able to glance down at Fives and the lustful but focused look in his golden eyes is enough to push you over the edge. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm hits you like a speeder. His fingers work you through it as your pussy flutters around him, and his tongue laps up your release. Once your breathing settles, he pulls his fingers from you and makes eye contact as he sucks them clean.

“You’re even sweeter than I imagined.” You’re still sprawled on the table as he stands up and removes the top of his blacks. You’re in recovery from your release, but you feel yourself clench as you look over his sculpted, tan body. You almost moan when you notice his cock, still free from your earlier work is now hard again as he removes what was left of his armor. He notices the hungry look on your face. “Bet I can get you to come again, this time on my cock.”

Your energy perks up and you’re able to lift yourself up again, and you teasingly wave your hips at him, showing off your entrance, still glistening from your orgasm. One of his hands grabs your hip to steady you, while the other strokes his cock and lines it up against your entrance. He slides it up and down your slit, whacking it against your sensitive clit. You shake in his grip and his eyes gleam as he slowly presses into you.

You’re still wet from your release and his fingers had worked you up, but you still have a hard time accepting his thickness. You feel him splitting you open, but the slight edge of pain is overpowered by the pleasure. Fives bottoms out in you and pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to him. You had never been so full and the sensation is almost too much. Your arms lift and grasp onto his biceps, needing to hold onto him for proof this wasn’t some dream.

One of his hands reaches behind you to the small of your back to keep you propped up. His other is gripping your hip, grounding himself as he’s ready to take what he wants. But he has to briefly control himself. He bends down, kissing you on your forehead.

“You feel so good, I won’t be able to last long. Are you ready?” He asks as his kisses trail down to your mouth. You deepen the kiss, gathering his bottom lip in your mouth and lightly bite on it making him groan.

“Fuck me, Fives. I’m off tomorrow, so I don’t need to walk.” You whisper and that’s all he needs.

He pulls himself out and then thrusts all the way back in, hitting your deepest spot. You barely reacted when he’s already moving again, unrelenting in his pace as he aims for that pleasure spot with every single thrust. He holds you against him, smacking your hips into his. Your nails digging deeper into his arm, and you’re turned on at the thought of him secretly walking around tomorrow with your marks on him. His pace is harder than it is quick, and you feel him drag in your pussy with every movement, almost as if you can feel every vein and ridge on his cock. Your pussy is holding him in a vice like grip, and as your legs wrap around his waist he groans as he feels you move around him.

Your head starts to roll back, and his hand that was on your back moves to the back of your neck to hold you in place, making you keep eye contact locked with him. He’s in complete control of your body, his strong arms able to hold you and fuck you like a rag doll. The tension starts to build in your body again, building to another peak.

Fives pulls out and you whine from the loss of him, but then he flips you onto your stomach, your ass up and legs dangling off the table. He uses his legs to spread yours further apart as he bends over, licking a line up your spine. He bites at the back of your neck, grabs a fistful of your hair to angle your face with his as he kisses you. He slams his cock back into you and you cry out; you won’t have a voice tomorrow.

“I’m close, can I come inside this pretty pussy?” he pants into your ear as he slowly drags his cock in and out of you. You were on birth control, so you knew you would be fine.

“Yes, please, fill me up Fives!” you gasp, grinding your ass back into him to meet his movements. He kisses you again then slides his hand back to your hips and begins a brutal pace.

If you thought you hadn’t been filled before, this angle makes you feel him in places you didn’t think were possible. His body pushing into you more and more with each thrust, you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips from his hands and marks on your legs from the edge of the desk. You start to lift yourself, but he uses on hand on your back to press you back down, your cheek turned to the side pressed against the surface so you’re able to see him ravish you from the corner of your eye.

He’s hitting your deepest spot with every thrust, quickly propelling you closer and closer to your second orgasm. Your body is wrecked as he fucks into you. Your vision is blurry, you can’t focus on anything, and your head is filled with your combined moans and the sinfully delightful slap of his hips against your ass and his dick in your pussy. You won’t be able to focus on any of your next projects when you’re on your next shift, all you’ll be able to think of is how this Arc Trooper bent you over your desk and fucked you into another galaxy. Your whole body begins to tense, and you feel a euphoric sensation take over your body. You were already on your way to the strongest orgasm you ever had, when his hand reached around for your clit and his calloused finger pads start rubbing it. You’re pushed past the point of no return.

You scream out but you can’t hear it, you see white and the only thing grounding you to the planet is the sensation of him fucking you through your climax. You call out his name countless times as he fucks you through it, your pussy squeezing him to the point where he can’t hold on any longer and, with a cry of your name, he fills you with hot streams of cum.

He collapses onto you, both of you breathing together and still joined. Slowly he gets up and pulls himself out of you. You nearly roll off the table, but he catches you and picks you up just to bring you down to the floor with him. He holds you in his arms there, allowing you to catch your breath. His golden eyes don’t leave your face as he brushes tears you don’t even realize you had shed off your cheeks. He smiles at you and his eyes twinkle as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I’m glad I lost that bet,” you joke, making him laugh and bend down for another kiss.

#this is my first attempt at fanfiction so any thoughts are appreciated #clone wars smut #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives #fives #fives x reader #fives x you #clone wars reader insert #clone wars fanfiction #fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars #the clone wars smut #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader insert #clone trooper x reader

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Infatuation

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s not a secret that Corpse prefers taking care of his hair himself rather than going to a hair salon to get it trimmed and/or tampered. However, he only has so much knowledge of how to properly do it without having to obliterate his budget. Luckily, his girlfriend comes to his rescue.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for the incredibly fluffy request! I’ve been very pumped to write it and now here it finally is - so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but I still hope you come across it and give it a read! Love, Vy ❤

“Um, what are you doing?“

I just walked into Corpse’s apartment to find him barricaded in the bathroom, giving himself a hair appointment. We were supposed to have a chill night in watching movies, but it seems to me like those plans will either have to be delayed or canceled, given the chaotic state both Corpse and his bathroom are in. I mean, how dumb was I to expect he was actually doing his hair justice when he told me he styled it himself? Why didn’t that immediately raise an army of red flags in my head and lead me to question his methods?

I’m honestly quite jealous of Corpse’s hair. It’s always so soft and silky and no matter how much or how little effort he’s put in it, it always looks good: either evidently carefully styled or boyishly messy, it leaves me with heart-eyes regardless. But to see him massacre it like this, it makes me wish I could report it as a crime.

“Ain’t obvious?“ He sounds rather frustrated and I feel at least slightly better due to this fact. He deserves to be as frustrated as I am by the sight of the crap he’s doing. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait for me for...a little while. I just need to get this under control and, um, clean the mess. Sorry for ruining your night like this, babe. I-I really wasn’t planning on it to take this long but I forgot to buy one of the products and I thought I could wing it without it but...I very clearly can’t so...“

“Please, stop talking. I don’t need to know what sins you’ve committed - if I do I’ll probably have to give you the silent treatment for like a week or so.“ I call out to him as I quickly skip over to the kitchen to leave the food I bought on my way over before returning to the bathroom and carefully taking a step inside, mindful of where there are hair strands on the tiles. Even severed, his hair is beautiful and I have a ton of respect for it - ok fine, I adore it. Corpse definitely doesn’t appreciate it properly. I walk over to the shower, reaching out to the two shelves inside which are lined with different types of hair products. “Oh fuck...“ I let out the whisper without even realizing it because I’m so stunned by the brands I see on those shelves. “Corpse, um, what the actual fuck?”

He turns to me, eyes wide and terrified because of my menacing tone. “What? What is it?” His gaze searches the spot where mine was just pointed at, looking for anything that could’ve provoked such a reaction from me. Seeing nothing but the hair products, he meets my deadly glare yet again, “What’s wrong?”

Alright, this man-child needs some serious help

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.“ I say, stomping towards the exit of the bathroom, “You’re gonna stay here and wait for me to come back and don’t you DARE, even touch your hair, let alone bring a pair of scissors or any chemical near it. Copy?“

“Copied and pasted, ma’am.“ He salutes me, knowing better than to ask questions when I enter my commander role. There are quite a few things that set me off into this bossy-ass persona, and hair mistreatment is most definitely one of them. Thing is, Corpse doesn’t know that. Well, he didn’t know that, pretty sure he’s guessed it by now.

Feeling myself soften at his obedience and trust, I give him a smile and a wink over my shoulder as I go to grab my bag and leave the apartment to complete my mission, “Good boy.”

* * *

“Isn’t that a lot better?“ I ask, gently running my fingers through Corpse’s freshly cut, washed and dried hair. I’ve spent a good five minutes just smoothing through it with my fingers. I bet he’s expecting me to say ‘my precious‘ at any moment now, and trust me it’s tempting, but I still don’t, I won’t give him the pleasure of predicting my actions. Wow, we’ve really reached that level of being familiar with one another that I predict that he’s predicting what I’m gonna do next. While I’m a guessing game for him, I tend to think of myself as more of an open book. You just gotta be fluent in the language it’s written in to understand it.

I’ve gone off-topic, my bad.

“Yeah, you’re a lot less scary now.“ He tells me, his hand finding mine in his hair and taking it to his lips to place a kiss on my knuckles.

We’re positioned so that we’re in front of the bathroom mirror with Corpse seated in a chair in front of me and I’m for once in my life towering over him from behind. Our height difference was threatening to be a hinderance in my work on his hair, but we easily figured it out.

I can’t help but laugh, “You know what I meant.“ I curl one of his already curly strands around the pointer finger of the hand that’s still wandering around the soft dark curls while the other remains in his gentle hold, resting on his shoulder.

“And you know what I meant.“ He shifts in his seat to look at me directly, not via the mirror, “Since when do you have a hair infatuation?“

I roll my eyes and retract my hands, defensively folding my arms over my chest, “It’s not an infatuation with hair, dummy. It’s an infatuation with your hair.” I correct him, doing quick work of styling the stray strands that fall over his forehead and eyes. “I really like your hair, you already know that. I can’t handle the thought you’re doing such a shitty job taking care of it.”

He shrugs, furrowing his brows, “Hey, I was buying top-shelf products, cost me a fortune every month, my hair was being treated like royalty.”

I roll my eyes once again, “High price doesn’t always equal high quality, Corpse. Did you ever stop to read what was in those products?” I don’t let him answer, I don’t need him to confirm what I already know. “Even if you did - which you didn’t - you wouldn’t know what each of those ingredients do to your hair. You see, taking care of hair, especially hair like yours, takes patience and knowledge. It’s practically an art form. It’s not like you can just buy any product that has ‘suitable for curly hair’ on it. There’s a lot more to that.”

It’s only after I finish my monologue that I realize he’s looking at me with amazed amusement in his gaze, almost like a parent listening to their kid talk about their wish of becoming an astronaut. “Since when do you know so much about hair? You’ve been using the same shampoo and conditioner since I know you and now you wanna lecture me on hair care?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, exasperated by his stubbornness on the matter, “Who said being consistent with your hair products is a bad thing? You know, frequent changing of brands has the potential of being damaging as much as aiding.” I explain with the most amount of patience I can muster, now taking over the parent role myself, “And as for your previous question, I know so much because my mother is a hairdresser.”

His eyes widen in surprise. I can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to recall if I’ve ever told him this before.

“How come I don’t know that?“ He asks finally after a long moment of silence. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“You ask that as though I just tell you things like that on the regular. Did you also want me to drop the info that my dad’s a mechanic in passing conversation about video games? Cause that’s a little hard to shoehorn in....“ He cuts off my sarcastic rambling with a brief peck to the lips. He’s the only person allowed to shut me up, and only like that. Anything else will earn him either an earful or a silent treatment.

Just kidding....unless...

“So, does that mean you’re continuing the family business?“ he asks when he pulls away, “I mean, you’re technically my personal hairdresser now.“

I furrow my brows playfully, “Wait, what? Since when?”

“Since I hired you approximately an hour ago.“ He beams up at me, satisfied that I’ve fallen in his trap.

“And what about my payment?“ I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

He looks to be contemplating for a second before he stands up from the chair, taking my hand in his leading me out of the bathroom, “Well, each appointment you’ll give me a different price, Miss Y/L/N. But, considering today was your first day, I choose to pay you with dinner.“ He sends a wink my way, laughing when he’s met with an unamused expression on my part as I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt his movements as well.

“You really plan on paying me with the dinner I bought?“ I raise an eyebrow at him, freeing my hand from his so I can put both my hands on my hips for the complete 'I’m far from impressed’ look.

“Yeah...? Problem?“ He asks, faking nervousness and guilt as he closes the distance between us, once again returning to the default of towering over me instead of it being the other way around.

“Several actually. First of all...“ I raise my finger in the air accusingly, ready to go off but the arm that wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground causes my words to die down, evaporating in a frightened squeal, “Corpse no!! Put me down!“

Of course, he ignores me, carrying me into the living room while I don’t know whether to thrash or stay as still as possible.

Tsk, so much for gratitude

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

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holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

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selfignitingimagines · 3 years ago

Text

Derek- Unlikely Allies

A/N: Hey guys, this is a rewrite of something I made a really long time ago. I wanted to mess around with some old concepts that I feel I didn’t flesh out enough. Let me know what you think, or if you want a part 2 of this one!

You raced through the pitch black corridor, shining your flashlight back and forth. You caught glimpses of grimy cement as you ran, narrowly dodging debris on the floor of the old rail depot. It was littered with rusted metal and broken glass, no doubt remnants of Beacon Hills’ abandoned subway cars.

It was fitting for Derek to have his hideout here, you thought. He seemed to have a habit of living in abandoned places. It must have been working pretty well, because finding him had been difficult. You had torn up your father’s office trying to find the place, knowing Allison must have discovered Derek’s location somewhere in the maps cluttering his desk.

Your father had narrowed down a couple locations, one of them being the abandoned rail depot on the outskirts of town. When you took a chance and drove out there, a glimpse of Allison’s car out front confirmed your suspicions. She was here to kill Derek.

You cursed yourself as you searched the depot, wondering if you could have stopped Gerard from getting into her head. Maybe if you had paid more attention, you wouldn’t have had to try and reverse the damage your grandfather had done.

A light up ahead caught your attention. There was a staircase to your right, dimly illuminated from the floor below. You clicked the flashlight off and crept closer.

“Wait, stop. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

That was Derek’s voice.

“Shut up!”

And that was Allison’s.

You swore under your breath. As you crept down the stairs, you saw Allison standing in front of one of the old subway cars. She had her crossbow raised, and Derek was lying on his back in front of her. He held one hand up defensively, while the other gripped an arrow that was sticking out of his right thigh. Blood was pooling around the wound, which wouldn’t be able to heal until the arrow was removed.

“You killed my mother!” she spat. Her voice was trembling.

“Your family’s little honor code killed your mother,” Derek snapped.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Derek to still be an ass, even with a crossbow trained on his chest.

Allison’s finger moved onto the trigger, and you bolted down the stairs. “Wait!”

She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw you approaching, her brown eyes widened. She turned back to Derek, keeping the crossbow steady.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, Y/n.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” you told her.

She let out a bitter laugh. “From what? The monsters? I think we’re past that.”

“Allison-”

“You hid this from me!” she spat. “And now you want to try and protect me? Mom is dead. Maybe you should have protected her.”

You looked down and met Derek’s eyes. He knew that Allison was willing to pull the trigger and so did you. He seemed to be asking the same question you were. Could you stop her?

“I’m trying to protect you from yourself. Killing him won’t bring her back, Allison.”

“No, but it will make me feel better.”

“You sure about that?” Derek asked.

“Yes,” she snarled, moving her finger back onto the trigger.

She might have actually pulled it if you had given her the chance. You couldn’t have been sure, but you weren’t willing to risk it. Derek was an ally that you needed, whether Allison knew that or not. If saving him meant Gerard would be stopped, you had to do what you did next.

Allison froze at the sound of you cocking your gun behind her. “Put it down.”

“Or what?” she asked bitterly. “You’ll put me down?”

A chill ran down your spine. It was the same thing your father had said to Kate on the night she was killed. Allison’s words brought back the bittersweet feelings your aunt’s death had caused.

“If I have to,” you finally said.

“I’m your sister.” Her voice was uneven, as if she was trying to stop herself from crying.

“I don’t know what you are anymore. All I see right now is the monster that Gerard created.”

Her hands were trembling. The crossbow was shaking in her grip. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing.

Then the weapon fell from her hands, clattering to the cement floor. Allison bolted, running out of the room and up the same stairs you had come down. You could see the tears dripping down her cheeks as she left. Guilt washed over you, but you knew you couldn’t go after her.

You holstered your gun and walked toward Derek.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, holding out a hand.

Derek glared up at you from the dirty floor. He yanked the arrow out of his thigh with a grunt. He didn’t take your hand as he got up, but he did mutter gruffly “You’re not the one who shot me.”

You watched as the wound in his leg began to close up, leaving nothing but a bloody stain and a slight rip in his jeans. He began to turn away from you, heading toward one of the rickety subway cars.

“I need your help,” you blurted out.

Derek paused, and turned to raise an eyebrow at you. “With what?”

“I need to kill Gerard.”

“You think that’s gonna save your family?”

You didn’t falter under his gaze. “It’s going to save Allison.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you for a moment. You looked exhausted, and the dim lights of the old subway station hollowed out your face. Your eyes were still full of life though, sharp and gleaming. Derek could see how desperate you were.

“What if it can’t?” he asked. “What if she…?”

“What if she turns into Kate?”

He nodded solemnly.

“Then I’ll kill her myself,” you said softly. “But she doesn’t understand that he’s manipulating her right now. She thinks she’s doing what she wants.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?” he asked.

“We have a common enemy. And right now, I couldn’t care less about you being an alpha. Bite as many kids as you want. Hell, bite me if you want to. I just want my sister back.”

Derek’s lips twitched. Was he actually smiling at you?

“You’d let me bite you if I helped you?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “If that’s what it takes.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Give me your arm.”

You cautiously held out your left arm. He reached out and took it, stepping toward you so that your chests were almost touching. He raised your arm to his mouth, and his teeth were so close that you could feel his breath on your skin.

He gazed down at you and grinned, revealing his abnormally sharp canines. You swallowed, and suddenly, he chuckled. That broke the stillness in the air, and you realized he was only messing with you.

You wrenched your arm out of his grasp as he laughed. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

He grinned. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you spat. “Forget I asked.”

You turned to go, but he grabbed your wrist. “Wait. If you want to stop Gerard, we need to talk to Scott.”

You turned back, shooting him a skeptical look. “Why Scott?”

“Because we have a plan,” he told you. “And it might be the only chance you have to save your sister.”

“How do I know you’re being serious?” you questioned.

He shrugged. “Like you said, we have a common enemy.”

“And after that?” you asked.

“We can go on hating each other. Just like old times.”

He was right. The werewolves helping you kill Gerard didn’t necessarily mean you would continue to be allies. As soon as he was dead, you could go right back to the vitriol and violence.

Deep down though, you knew things in Beacon Hills were shifting. Without Gerard at the helm of the Argent empire, maybe fighting wouldn’t have to be the only option.

“What if things could be different?”

“Like if we didn’t hate each other?” Derek asked.

“I’ve never hated you.”

“I can’t say the same,” he admitted. “But...I don’t hate you anymore.”

“There shouldn’t always be a war going on between us.”

Derek tilted his head. “That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Maybe...maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

Derek’s gaze was skeptical, and you suddenly felt embarrassed for saying it. Of course the idea of peace sounded ridiculous to him. Then he spoke, his words catching you off guard.

“We’ll see,” he said softly. “Hey, what’s wrong with your arm?”

You glanced down, just now noticing the purple bruising that was blooming along your right forearm. It was throbbing with pain, but in the chaos of trying to stop Allison, you had barely noticed.

You had been headed out of the house after her when you ran into Gerard in the foyer of your home. He was blocking your exit, and when you tried to move past him, he snatched you by the arm. His fingers had gripped you so tightly that you swore the bone was about to break.

“You’ll never catch her in time.”

“Let go of me,” you spat at him.

Gerard had simply stared at you with those dark eyes of his. “You’ve always been my greatest disappointment.”

Without a second thought, you slammed your knee between his legs. “Good.”

He had grunted in pain, and his knees buckled. You wrenched your arm out of his grasp and ran. You sped all the way to the rail depot, paranoid he would chase after you and stop you.

“It’s nothing,” you told Derek. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t buying it. “Did Gerard do that to you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Here,” Derek told you, reaching for your arm.

“What are you-”

“Trust me?”

You didn’t say anything more, and he took that a yes. He placed one hand under your wounded arm to steady it, and the other one over the bruise. His movements were tender and soft, something you wouldn’t have expected from Derek. You gasped as the veins in his arm began to turn black, and you realized your pain was ebbing away.

When you looked up, there was a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I bet the hunters never told you we could do that, huh?”

You shook your head, still stunned as he gently held your arm in his hands. “Why did you do that?”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said softly. “Maybe things can be different.”

You looked into Derek’s green eyes, and for once, you saw something similar inside of them. You and Derek were both struggling under the weight of your families’ bloody past. You both needed to prove them wrong. If anyone could understand you, it was him.

You pulled away, but a part of you hesitated for a moment. Something was stirring inside of you, but you refused to acknowledge it while there was so much going on. By the way Derek was looking at you, you could tell he felt it too.

Finally, you cleared your throat. “So we need to talk to Scott?”

“Yeah,” he said, awkwardly bringing his arms back down to his sides. “We’ve got a homicidal maniac to kill.”

For now that was the plan. Kill Gerard, take back your family, and save Allison. After that, maybe you and Derek could be something more than unlikely allies.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #derek hale imagines #Teen Wolf Ships

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years ago

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Frozen Within the Night Wind: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 10

None of the characters in Twilight belong to me, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

"Having you close My head is damaged I get closer, everything trembles me

Now I have the certainty That I have not lost the desire Wake up with you in the morning But I'm looking for your gaze And your eyes, baby, don't tell me anything."

Nuestro Planeta by, Kali Uchis Featuring Reykon. Translated lyrics.

Jasper, Jacob, and I were all standing in a large field awaiting the arrival of Bella and Edward. The very field we were standing in would be the battleground between us and the newborn army.

"Hey, le... Fleur?" Jacob asked."

"Hmm?"

"Why haven't your diluted eyes at all? They still look like a rose." Jacob observed.

"I mean it hasn't been a full year yet."

"Yes, darling but... they should've at least diluted a little by now, amber should start to peak through." Jasper added.

"That's strange...I haven't had any human blood I swear."

"Yeah right..." I heard Jacob mumble.

"Oh shove it, Jacob, at least I'm not in the middle of a toxic, manipulative, love triangle."

"Can it leech. You know nothing about Bella."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Before Jacob could rebuttal, Edward and Bella finally showed up. Edward didn't look thrilled at all and Bella had a blank look on her face.

"I don't like this idea at all." Edward grumbled.

"And we need you for the fight but you aren't coming to that so...tough, get over it." I rebutted.

"Leave him alone Fleur...he's doing it for me. Bet Jasper hasn't done that for you." Bella said a dreamy look was in her eyes.

"Uh...he didn't have to, because I didn't cause chaos where ever I went and didn't piss off nomads you dumbass." I heard Jasper let out a short laugh.

"Wait, pretty boy isn't fighting, aww did you pull a muscle?" Jacob mocked.

"Can we get on with this... I wanna be anywhere but here." I interrupted.

"Whatever, just tell me the plan." Jacob said.

"Edward and I are going on a campsite, even if he carries me they’ll still pick up our scents." Bella explained.

"Your stench, however, is revolting." Edward interrupted

"Dude, you really don’t wanna start comparing stinks." Jacob snapped

"What he means is that your scent will mask mine if you carry me," Bella said.

"Done."

"This is not a good idea."

"You've already established that Edward," I said.

"Edward, they won’t wanna get anywhere near his... odor." Jasper carefully.

Jacob picked Bella up before saying... "Odor-de-wolf comin’ up."

Edward glared at me when Jacob was gone. Jasper noticed this and tensed up.

"You need to stop talking to her like that!"

"Like what? Truthfully, honestly?"

"It's not truthful it's insulting!"

"Dude...have you been living without any of your senses? The amount of shit she has said and done to me is a lot more disgraceful than how I am acting. Like I am petty, I know I am, but her pretending to be all innocent is hilarious."

"Oh please..."

"Okay so when she insults me and brings up that my mother completely hates my guts it's fine but when I rebuttal it's like I'm opening the gates of hell huh?"

"You don't know anything about her... she isn't malicious!"

"You sound just like Jacob."

"Don't even compare me to that...fleabag."

"What are you gonna do about?" I said he then got up close to my face, he looked like he was going to hit me.

"Don't test me Fleur... I will put you in your place if I have to."

"I'd love to see you try...boy." Jasper said getting between the two of us.

Edward snarled at us and walked away, stalking off to the far side of the field.

"Man... being a vampire has definitely amped up my attitude. Good thing you're here to stop me from doing something stupid." I joked.

"I think you're spending too much time with Rosalie darlin." Jasper said, smiling at me.

"This whole love triangle thing makes me want to set myself on fire. I kinda feel bad for Jacob...I know she's just manipulating him."

"I wouldn't put it past her darlin."

"I really wish we didn't have to do any of this...we should be getting married right now... not fighting a battle they could possibly be getting us killed." I confessed.

"Well one, we just have to wait until November... and two we will be fine, we've been training all this time."

"I know but...it's still a terrifying thought, this is the first fight I've ever been with another vampire."

"Did you forget about James love?"

"Well... with me as a vampire."

"You're going to be fine... Alice told me the vision she had of you fighting James, you cracked his skin by throwing a rock.... if you're that strong as a human I'm scared to see what you can do as a vampire."

"Okay, okay... stop trying to boost my ego." I said smirking, I pulled him in using some of my strength. I kissed him before pulling apart, biting his lip to tease him."

"You're cruel darlin, just cruel... Oh forgot to say something..."

"What is it?"

"Bella and Edward got engaged."

"Oh my god... are you serious?"

"Yeah, and Alice said they planned on eloping in Vegas."

"She must be really angry with those two..."

"Actually, she isn't really that mad."

"Okay, what happened to Alice?"

"I think she's starting to get a little... annoyed with Bella."

"It was bound to happen... Dad is going to kill Edward."

Edward ran toward us again and told us to be quiet. Before I could ask why Bella and Jacob came back into view.

"Well Jasper and I will do a quick sniff check... you three can stay here and.... mingle." Before they could protest we took off into the woods.

"The stench is revolting."

"It is pretty bad."

"I can't make up any Bella though, so the plan worked."

We quickly ran back down to the field, both of us had stepped down off of a broken tree laying on the ground.

"Just picked up wolf stench, no Bella." Jasper stated

Timeskip: 2 hours later

I was waiting for Alice in the Cullen's house, knowing that Alice told dad we were all going on a camping trip. I thought it would be good if we all hunted before the battle to power up. I needed all the strength I could get.

"I swear if Bella and Edward do anything in our room I am going to kick Edward to the moon." I grumbled.

"Don't worry Fleur...I'm sure Edward won't do anything." Jasper reassured, a guilty look was on his face, however.

"You threatened him didn't you?" Not buying his innocent act.

"Yes, yes I did."

"Alright everyone, we can go!" I heard Alice say outside, Dean, Jasper, Rosalie, Emmett, Esme, Carlisle, and I all made our way outside quickly.

Timeskip: 6 hours later

"Damn Emmett, at this point you're going to put bears into extinction."

"Serves them right short stack."

"Dude I am 5'9, that's pretty tall for a girl."

"But pretty short for someone who's 6'5."

"Oh shut it and hit your head in the doorway again."

"Darlin, if he keeps doing that the support beams are going to give out in the house." Jasper added.

"Nah they'll be fine, he's as tall as a support beam." I joked.

"Can't wait to kick some newborn-vampire ass," Dean said, jumping up slightly in excitement. Alice giggled and wrapped her arms around him

"Are the newborns still making their way to the field Alice?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes, they should be here at 5:15 pm tomorrow."

"We'll be ready," Carlisle said.

"You guys go ahead in, I need some quiet. I'm going to try and track Victoria."

They all nodded and went inside, I saw them all however observing me through the glass walls."

I got into my trance, rolling my eyes behind my head and I was flying through the city once again. I stopped in an underground tunnel, the likes of which was located in Seattle. I finally found her, she was talking with that man that turned me... the name I finally found out to be Riley Biers.

"You’re not coming with us?" He asked angrily.

"It’ll be a last-minute decision. I told you how it works." Victoria replied she seemed bored.

"The Cullen’s have powers according to one of your friends," Riley said skeptically.

"Yes, my friend told me... my DEAD friend. Don’t underestimate them, Riley. One of them made me have hallucinations of my friend. You’ll have the numbers, but they’ll be able to anticipate your every move. You don’t trust me do you?"

"I trust you with my life. I’m just saying…"

"I’m doing this for us so that we can feed without their…retaliation and I can’t live in fear anymore waiting for them to attack."

"I won’t let them. I’m going to end the Cullen clan. I swear."

I broke out of my trance before I could get anything else out of the conversation. I rushed inside, eager to tell them what I found.

"It was Victoria guys!" I said.

"What? I would've seen it." Alice replied.

"She was hiding behind that kid, Riley... She's letting him lead the army to us..."

#jasper whitlock x oc #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x oc #rosalie hale #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen #alice cullen #twilight saga #bella swan #twilight

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

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Warm Up My Heart

(...So It Never Gets Cold Again)

Type: One-shot to a series (part 1 & part 2), Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2500

Summary: Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Boy wants to propose soon… boy slips. You know the drill. In which Tony builds a training super-bot, Steve gets a boo-boo and the rest is history.

Warnings: mild injury and violence, swearing, cheesy af fluff

A/N: There weren’t al that many of you reading this series, but since it’s a rewrite/editing stuff for me (something I have time for), I’m bringing it back! I’ve been neglecting it long enough...

Series masterlists (aka previous parts) linked above

────── ·❆· ──────

“Captain America’s been brought to his knees. They found his weak spot and he went down all too easily for the world’s first superhero; literally crumbled on the ground, unable to get back up-“

Steve groaned, miserable and extremely annoyed at the same time, and you chuckled, which earned you a wounded look from the supersoldier.

You retreated from his right foot to muffle the sound escaping your mouth with you palm. You couldn’t help it; as much as you felt sorry for Steve, troubled by the fact he was in pain, you knew it wasn’t serious and Tony’s dramatic commentary was just too hilarious.

“Tony, just leave him be. And stop making me laugh,” you pleaded, suddenly back to seriousness. This was no fun; you did need to concentrate. “I might as well freeze his foot off if you keep distracting me.”

It was the truth; you had spent the past minutes trying to cool down Steve’s ankle, which had been sprained. All three of you were now in one of the training rooms of the compound, you and Steve sitting on a bench, while Tony hovered above you. Steve’s leg was resting over your knees, so you could reduce the swelling before it could fully develop.

The injury was totally Tony’s fault.

Being the generous friend and maniac he was, he had invented a special kind of a training super-bot – which had earned him both sharp glares and amused looks. It wasn’t half bad; it actually was a fair competition for Steve, which was saying something. It probably had something to do with the fact Tony had seen Steve in action more than a few times, learning his fighting style; programming his knowledge into the software of the bot meant one less advantage for Steve. Plus, Tony had used some special enforced material-

-which was exactly the problem. It was enforced; too much. And not enough.

When Steve kicked with his full strength, his foot had just… pretty much stuck in the robot’s torso. He had been lucky it hadn’t torn his flesh off and he had ended up only like this – with sprained ankle and few deep scratches which had already stopped bleeding. Incredibly lucky even considering that his instinct had been to get his foot out immediately, so he could go on with the fight; he hadn’t been exactly gentle and patient with freeing himself. Honestly, you were surprised his limbs were still attached.

Now he couldn’t even put his full weight on his injured leg. At least the robot had helped him hobble to the bench, because between your built and Tony’s willingness to talk being way bigger than his willingness to help with Steve’s weight (muscles were heavy), Steve would be still on the ground. Well, limping uselessly on one foot anyway.

“And get me an elastic bandage. Hush! Go make yourself useful!” you ordered, directing Tony towards the door, motioning with your hand in an ‘off you go’ gesture.

“Cap, your girl is bossy and has no respect for elders,” the billionaire complained, but turned on his heels and headed to get a first aid kit. The bot stood by the end of the bench dutifully, not moving an inch.

“I beg to differ, she treats me just fine,” Steve called out after Tony, winking at you as you brought your hands back.

You focused on tuning your powers to the right temperature, hovering only few inches from his skin. You sighed when the door clicked behind Tony and went back to work.

“You okay?” you whispered, glancing up just for a moment before returning your full attention to his injury.

“I’ve had plenty of worse.”

“That’s neither an answer or comforting, you know.”

“I’m much better now,” he admitted softly and you could hear the tender smile in his voice.

It warmed your heart and filled your chest with pride. You knew he meant it as a compliment; and he was not complimenting your powers, not the tool you had been given, but he was praising you for being so skilful with it.

You managed a tiny smile. “I’m glad.”

Your mind raced as you thought of how you could make it even better. You were no doctor; you barely knew the RICE rule, of which you only had two things covered by now; Elevation and Ice. The third was on its way (hopefully, but one never knew with Tony) and the fourth was… probably out of question, because make Steve Rogers rest was way beyond anyone’s ability. You closed your eyes, focusing on the things you actually could control.

Steve apparently understood your need to concentrate, or had nothing to say, because he didn’t utter a word. But the silence was comfortable, kind even. You tried to convince yourself his eyes were roaming around the training room; in reality, you were ninety-nine percent sure he was watching you work and despite all the time spent together, all his efforts to chase your insecurities away and proving countless time that he trusted you… you felt a bit nervous.

Too small under his intense gaze, you could tell that hot blood rushed into your cheeks. It was ridiculous. And it probably made Steve’s lips curl up in a grin, because he had mentioned more than once that he found your embarrassment endearing and entirely adorable. He could always tell.

“Marry me,” he pleaded softly and the shock of those two words spoken threw you off so hard your concentration levelled to zero in an instant.

The temperature you had been treating his ankle with so carefully dropped low beyond the desired one as if you flipped a switch.

You felt the burst of energy from your hands more than you heard his pained hiss and you quickly snapped your eyes open, withdrawing your hands in one swift movement.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, staring at his foot with horror, masochistically examining the damage you had done – a frostbite no doubt, because of course you had done some serious damage-

-well… actually you hadn’t, because apparently your reflexes had improved greatly with time, but the skin had definitely less healthy colour than before and-

“Oh Steve, I am so, so sorry, I swear I didn’t meant to-“

“It’s… it’s okay,” he stuttered, sounding more embarrassed than hurting.

You were relieved; then again, when had Steve Rogers ever admitted he was in pain?

You couldn’t find yourself to look up to his face nevertheless, too horrified and scared. What have you done?

Also… what the hell had he just said? You had imagined it, right? He hadn’t… hadn’t…?

“It wasn’t your fault. That’s completely on me. You said Tony not to distract you and… I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have said that.“

You looked up at him, biting your lip, suddenly convinced that he actually had proposed. Just like that. You didn’t give yourself time to let it sink in or to… indulge the feeling. Because he just apologized for saying it. You would bet all your money that he did regret it now, for multiple reasons.

It kinda stung that he had confessed to it out loud, though.

Okay, fuck it, it hurt like hell, because even when you had never talked about it, it burned down your very soul that he… that he would ever regret asking.

He groaned, covering his red face with his palms.

“I---you’re… injured. Probably confused by the product of Tony’s brilliant ideas. It’s okay, let’s just… forget that, okay? We all say strange things when we’re in pain, things we regret-“

You hated that your voice trembled at the last word and Steve’s hands immediately went down, his blue eyes piercing right through yours. He seemed more horrified than you now.

“I’m sorry. That came out completely wrong. All of it. Oh god…. I do regret it, alright? I’m sorry, Snowflake. I really shouldn’t have said that. Not… not like this,” he added gently and your heart positively stopped as his gaze found you, a new twinkle in his irises.

No, there was nothing new in it. You had seen it before, occasionally. In moments that only belonged to you two, when you were alone or it felt like you were alone, the world around disappearing. When you would catch his gaze across the room while laughing with someone else. When you let your powers draw flowers on the windows of the compound, creating winter decorations that were not exactly allowed in the military space.

Admiration. Tenderness. Dedication. Love.

Your lips parted in surprise as he kept observing you, the emotions changing on your face, flashing with realization. Wait. That was… what? Your breath hitched.

Steve gave you a very nervous smile as he lifted his leg from your lap, setting it back on the ground.

“What are you-“ you snapped from your strange trance immediately, wanting to stop him from whatever he was about to do, because you weren’t finished and goddammit, he needed to keep his leg elevated-

-and not to lower himself from the bench on one knee.

Right in front of you.

As if he was proposing.

Like, really proposing.

You watched him with disbelief when he planted himself into the infamous position, injured ankle in an awkward position, and you would swear that he could hear your heartbeat echoing within the walls of the gym. You sure as hell did, your blood pounding in your ears and your head positively spinning.

You simply couldn’t believe your eyes. You were sure your pupils were wide enough to reduce your irises to nothing.

Steve swallowed loudly, looking up at your face from under his eyelashes, his eyes hopeful and wide as well. At this point, you couldn’t breathe, your ribcage way too small for your swelling heart.

This was happening.

Oh shit, this was happening. Steve was… Steve was-

“Snowflake,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotions and something that you would swear was a hint of fear, “you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and despite your powers, your presence-- you are warm like sunshine. I love you. I love you with my whole heart and… please, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with hope, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you weren’t able to utter a single word and left him waiting for your answer.

You felt like an idiot for leaving him in anticipation and with doubts--- because you loved him. God, you loved this man so much and couldn’t even speak despite being sure with what you wanted to say more than anything.

So you blinked away the solitude tears that gathered in your eyes, because you were a regular sap, and nodded. His face lighted up like Christmas tree – no matter how cliché it sounded, it was the first analogy that came to your mind and it was very true.

Hesitant smile appeared on his lips as he stared at you with same disbelief that must have shown on you own face. “Yeah?”

You chuckled, covering your mouth with your palm before you could let out some very embarrassing sound. You nodded furiously, again and again.

“Yeah,” you breathed out finally and Steve shamelessly grabbed you and pulled you down at him. He fell on his ass, so you both basically crushed into the bench, but you couldn’t help but laugh like a madwoman as he was trying to balance the both of you, you being nestled in his lap all of sudden.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against his own body, immediately freeing your hair from the messy bun you wore – just so he could nuzzle his face in it. You could feel his smile against your cheek and then he placed a quick kiss there, then lower, then on your jaw, and then finally found your lips. He kissed you, letting you taste the delight on his tongue, his breath whispering of gratitude, pleading you to say it again.

“Yes,” you repeated simply and earned another kiss, this time longer, passionate and tender, breath-taking and making you feel like flying.

The butterflies in your stomach flipped their wings like crazy – kissing Steve was always an amazing feeling, but this time… you were kissing Steve, your fiancée. He just proposed, he wanted to marry you and you were about to marry him. Excitement tingled in your fingertips, restless and wonderful and your body melted into his, wishing to just merge into one.

You only realized his body was not exactly okay when he retreated an inch, allowing you both to catch your breath and your brain to reboot. Seeing his twinkling eyes, you swallowed the question about his well-being, simply not having the heart to ruin the unexpected, peculiar and pretty magical moment. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyelids falling shut.

“That... that is not how I was planning on doing this,” he whispered, sounding a bit embarrassed, and the corners of your lips twitched, rising even higher. You hadn’t realized you had automatically started smiling the moment your lips had been freed, but apparently you had.

“Are you saying there was a plan, oh my Star-Spangled Man?” you replied with voice as soft as his, teasing him lightly.

“Uhm… I mean… I was working on it, at least. It involved having the ring actually on me instead of having it lying in our room and all that.”

The ring. The ring that was in your room at the moment. He clearly wasn’t just throwing the words around. He… he actually had been planning a proposal. You heart fluttered at the confession.

“But then Steve Rogers’ impulsiveness got in a way and… here we are,” he revealed sheepishly and you didn’t think you could be more moved.

It wasn’t just him thinking about it – it was him losing it in a moment so ordinary like this as if he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Good. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His expression turned curious and a bit confused. “Good?”

“Yeah. It’s Steve Rogers I want to marry after all.”

The most gorgeous smile appeared on his lips and you couldn’t resist – you kissed him again. A silent promise of kissing him every day for the rest of your lives.

────── ·❆· ──────

Tony Stark was standing behind the transparent door to the gym, facing away from the two of you, but peeking over his shoulder; an equivalent of subtlety. A grin that was not even a little silly played on his lips and he was not tearing up at all.

Who was he kidding, he was really glad he had added the AV system to his super- bot. Because the record of what definitely looked like a bit strange proposal was something he would miss greatly.

He smirked at the kit in his hand, opened the door for a slit, quietly slipped his hand in – completely unnoticed by the oblivious lovebirds – and left the supplies there.

When he closed the door again soundlessly and made his way out of the area, he couldn’t but mutter under his breath.

“About damn time, Rogers. About damn time.”

────── ·❆· ──────

Next series (Five Times Steve Felt Betrayed and the One Time He Felt like He Was Betraying You)

S.R.masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

So, I had my thoughts on some more storyline (sort of) and got to the point where I felt sorry for not coming up with a concrete plan of how a proposal implied in the next story went. I couldn’t resist and had to come up with some, because reasons.

Apparently, I’m a sucker for pain the concept of proposal going way differently than planned...

Thank you for reading... I hope your week started off well!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #avengers au #one shot #avenger reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #melting hearts #melting hearts series #warm up my heart #anika ann

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yourfangirlfriend · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Four

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Notes: Idk someone’s reading this

——————————

“It’s not serious.”

You almost turn and walk back to your apartment.

Instead, you blink at him.

“Isn’t that shirt supposed to be white? ”

He closes his eyes and brings hand up to face and sighs.

“It’s not-“

“It’s a gunshot!”

“Is this going to be a lecture? Or did you want to drink?”

You shake your head and push past him, swinging the bottle of whiskey you brought him like you’re about to bring it down on his coffee table. You hear the door close behind you and turn.

“Alright. Let me see it.”

“What?”

“I’m not giving you a drink until I see it.” You pluck the whiskey back up from the table, holding it up.

“I have my own-“

“Javier, you stubborn fucking man-“

“ Fine.” He brings his hands up to his neckline and begins to strip off his bloody shirt. You stand there waiting, grinding your teeth when he pulls off his right shoulder and you see the bloody bandaging underneath. He tosses his shirt to the floor and brings his hands to his hips, before bringing them forward and gesturing, as if to say “enough?”

“Fuck, man!” You stride forward, stopping just in front of him. You raise your hand as if to touch, but pull back. You look back up at him, horrified.

“It’s not a real gunshot wound.”

“Oh, just a figurative one?”

“I-“ he turns his head to the side and growls in frustration. You ignore the feeling it causes between your legs. “It’s just a graze. It didn’t go through.”

You fix him with a look. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe you’re reacting like this. “Am I clear?”

You drop your arms from where you had them crossed and turn back, making your way to the kitchen. “Alcohol thins your blood and delays healing.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” He sits back on the couch, stretching his arms out across the back and dropping his head back. You return to the couch with two glasses, sitting down next to him.

“You’re not taking those pills with this, are you?” You nod to the bottle on the coffee table’s edge. He lifts his leg up and kicks the bottle off. What a baby.

“If you were going to come nurse me, you could have at least worn the little dress.” He reaches and takes the whiskey you offer him. You roll your eyes and relax into the couch beside him, taking a sip.

“How long did they send you home for?” You ask, your eyes falling back to the bandage.

“Two days rest, a week desk work.” He takes another drink.

“Aw, a pencil pusher like the rest of us,” you reach forward and pinch his cheek. He reaches up and seats your hand away. You giggle.

“You’re annoying,” he says, reaching to the side table for a pack of cigarettes. Despite his statement, he pulls a second one out for you.

“I hang around children all day.” You reach out with your lighter and light the two ends for him. He holds the second one out for you. “Probably why I get along with you so well.”

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. He leans back, exhaling a long puff of smoke. The two of you sit in a not uncomfortable silence for a moment. You look around his apartment, scanning for any signs of personality, but find it lacking. No pictures, no books, even the tv looks dusty. You bring the glass to you lips again before asking:

“What are you going to do for two days laid up?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“No but really,” you say. “Like, you going to knit or something?”

“What?”

“I’m trying to ask what do you do for fun?”

He turns and looks at you like you just asked who the president was.

“You’ve seen it,” he says after a beat, dropping his eyes back down and leaning forward to ash. “You’ve been it.”

“And what an honor it was,” you nudge him with your foot. “Come on, not even reading?”

He shakes his head and gestures outwardly. “I fucking hunt down drug traffickers all day, alright? I count corpses for fun, how about that? What do you do, late night book club with third-rate soccer players?”

You frown and put your drink down on the coffee table. Standing, you bend over to put out your cigarette.

“If you want to be a dick, you can drink on your own.” You make to walk past him. “I’ll see you around.”

You hear him sigh behind you.

“El, wait.”

El?

You turn and see him standing, bent over to stub the cigarette out. When he stands straight, you avoid gazing down at the way his jeans fall on his hips.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says.

You don’t say anything.

He sighs and drops his head. “Today was bad. It’s been bad for a while. I thought I was handling it, wasn’t letting it affect me but...well,” he gestures to his bandage. Your stomach drops seeing the blood again. He waits for a response but when you’re still quiet, he throws his arms up, exasperated. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t want to be a dick, I just want to drink and smoke and” his eyes dart anywhere else in the room. “...hang out with you and think about something else.” He drops his hands to his side, before looking back at you.

You narrow your eyes and take slow determined steps forward until you’re in front of him. Maintaining eye contact, you bend down and pick up his glass of whiskey, bringing it up for a long pointed sip. You swallow, then extend your fore finger, pointing to his face.

“... second rate soccer player,” you correct.

And it takes everything to maintain your character and not to join him as he bursts out laughing.

———————

“Javi, no, I’m too drunk-“

“It’s just a bandage-“

“I’m not good with blood!“

“You said your dad hunts-“

“Thisisafuckingfleshwound!” You snap. You’re swaying in the doorway of his bathroom, squaring off against him as he leans against the sink.

“I can’t lift my arm, hermosa.” He says. “I need some help.”

You stare at him, a frown on your face. When he shrugs.

“Fine!” You huff, putting you whiskey down on the floor. You go to stand in front of him and take a deep inhale.

“...in order to change a bandage-“

“Shut up,” you cut him off. Nodding at your own resolve, you bite your lip and reach up to grab the corner. Quickly, perhaps too quickly judging by the way Javi flinches, you rip the bandage off.

“Ugh!” You make a vomit sound. It’s much deeper than you thought it would be. Even if it was a graze, that’s a fucking gun shot wound. The angry, red stitches seep with blood.

“I told you! I told you about the alcohol thinning thing!” You say.

“Can you just-?”

“God, it’s so deep-“

“Eloise, put the fu-“

You pull the new bandage open and grimace as you hold it up, hovering over the deep, ugly line. Gently, gently as you can, you press down on the adhesive, nibbling at your lip when it looks like he’s in pain. When you finish you step back, like the thing might bite you.

“There- there!” You say.

“You did it.” Then, he brings both his hands up to run along the outside, smithing it. Be breaks into a smile when sees the face you make. “Pretty good for a beginner.”

“You asshole! I told you I don’t like blood!” You reach forward and push his shoulder. Immediately he hissed in pain. “Shit! Shit! Shit! I’m sorry! I’m sorry-“

———

“I should...take a pain pill,” he says from behind you as he lays down, eyes closed on the couch. You sit up from where you’re sat in front of him, smoking a cigarette, and turn to chide him.

“ No.” You slur. “You’ll...you’ll die.”

He blows a raspberry.

“Shut up, that’s how Judy Garland died!” You turn back forward and lay your head back, resting on his arm. You close your eyes.

“It hurts,” he says.

“You’ve just got to focus on something else. You can will your consciousness-“

“Christ, your parents really were hippies.”

“-fucking told you- anyway, don’t think about that. Think about...” you smack your lips, trying to think. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

He laughs. “Psssh. What?”

“I bet you were 15.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Were you?”

“...sixteen,” he concedes. “What about you?”

“...how long ago did we first have sex?”

“... What-“

You let out a deep belly laugh. “Oh my god, you are so gullible. I can’t believe you’re a fucking agent-“

“- I didn’t actually believe you!.”

“Yeah, alright.” You shake your head.

“...Well?”

“What?”

“How old?”

You take a deep sigh. “Twenty.”

He laughs. “Nerd.”

“Slut.”

He nudges your head with his shoulder, and you break out in a smile.

“See? Not hurting anymore.”

————

“-No, where Carter went wrong-“

“Oh please regale me, Mr. ‘Nixon Had his Good traits’ -“

“Will you listen-“

“I bet you voted for Reagan-“

“ Don’t insult me-“

________

“Oh wow.”

“What?”

“No just, you being an only child makes sense.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” You laugh.

He smiles, looking away from you. “That I’m...independent...”

You laugh harder.

—————-

“Apartment looks like a serial killer’s-“

“What?”

“Put one picture of your mother up-“

————

“...I should buy a boat-“

“- You should totally buy a boat.”

——————

You wake up to a room lit up by the blue that precedes the rising sun. You pull your head up from where you’ve been leaned back, still resting on Javi’s arm. Pushing up onto your feet like a baby deer, you survey the damage left on the coffee table. The whiskey bottle is empty, and a few cans of beer are scattered across countless cigarette butts and ash, the result of an upturned ashtray and drunken laziness. Deciding it’s a job for later, you turn to Javi, who’s still asleep, mouth agog.

“Javi,” you reach forward and shake him. He barely stirs. You shake him again. “Javier.”

He jolts away, turning towards you rapidly. In the second he doesn’t recognise where he is, his eyes flash in such a way your chest aches. “What...”

“We fell asleep in your living room ...and I am still very drunk...” you swallow. “But you need to sleep in a bed. Come on.” You reach your hand down to pull him up. He takes your hand, standing slowly. You wrap your arm around his waist, urging him back towards his bedroom.

When you get to the edge of the bed, you deposit him on the edge of his mattress. You hear him him as you walk to the adjoining bathroom and fill the cup of water there. You try and drink as slowly as possible, and refill it after you’ve downed the cup. Walking back to the bed, you shake Javi awake once again.

“Javi-“

“Mmrpff.”

“Sit up and drink this.”

His eyes still closed, he sits up and takes the glass. He gulps it down before handing it back in your vague direction. You place it on the table beside him.

“Before I go-“

“Wha? No, don’t be stupid.” He reaches up and pulls you down to lay beside him. He turns on his back, giving you some room “Go to sleep.”

You open your mouth to protest, but you then you think...why not. You’re still drunk, and while you know it’s going to hurt in the morning and you’ll want nothing more to be in your own bed, in your own wallowing, something’s keeping you on the mattress beside him. Convenience, you decide.

“These sheets better be washed,” you mumble as you settle in beside him. You hear him chuckle before you’re asleep.

———————

You’re right.

It does hurt.

You can barely open your eyes before the morning light is giving you a headache. Turning away from the light, you open your eyes further to see Javi standing by the bed, the pain pills bottle open and in his hand.

He looks rough, and he’s ready for you to scold him. He holds up a hand in pre defence.

“Don’t -“

“Sssh,” you wave your hand. You reach out your palm. “Give me two.”

—————

The two of you wake again a few hours later. In your drugged, heavy sleep you seem to have gone diagonal in the bed, forcing Javier to the edge, your face pressed into the back of his neck. You try righting yourself, giving him some room as you stretch. You sit up and press the heel of your palm into your eyes, shaking your head. You turn to look down at your companion, who’s stirred awake.

“What time is it?” He murmurs. You turn to look at the clock.

“1:30,” you say. He shakes his head.

“Not ready.”

“Me neither.” You say. You feel a tug on your shirt from behind you, urging you back. You give in, and lay back. He puts his chin on your shoulder, burying his nose in your neck, an arm sling across your front.

“Hmmm,” he says as way of an invitation.

And you drift back off.

————

When you both wake up again at 4:40, you pull him out of bed and into the living room to try and get some food in him. All he wants, though, are cigarettes. It turns into a tense negotiation, with you threatening to light his pack up on the gas stove if he didn’t try to at least east a piece of toast. After the first, though, neither of you can get enough, and you end up making the worlds shittiest grilled, hungover cheese sandwiches. When you’re both sat at the table on your second sandwich, you raise your head.

“We slept the whole day, and I still feel like shit. And now my sleep schedules fucked.”

“We could go back to sleep,” he says taking another eager bite.

“How is that possible? We slept about 12 hours.”

He holds up the pill bottle, rattling it.

“...Aren’t you in the DEA?” You hold out your hand.

He pops the lid and deposits two in your palm before dropping two more in his own. “I’m off today.”

————————

When you wake up on Sunday morning around 11, he’s already up, sitting on the couch with a coffee and plate of eggs. As you wander into his periphery, he turns to look at you.

“Made coffee,” he holds up his mug. “Eggs.”

“Thanks,” you walk over to the sink and fill up a glass of water. You walk over to the couch and drop into the corner. He’s still shirtless in his jeans, but looks a lot cheerier.

You, on the other hand.

“Ugh,” you bring the glass to your mouth taking a deep gulp before continuing. “I have to grade so much today,”

“They’re kids, how hard could it be?” He shakes his head. “I’d kill for some work right now.”

“I have a pile over the past few weeks. They’re writing assignments, I have...have to leave little notes on each one...on their grammar.”

You’re both quiet for a second before he realises what you’re thinking.

“Javi-“

“No.”

“You just said it would be easy.”

“I want real work.”

“Wow.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Come on,” you moan. He shakes his head.

“No.”

“...I’ll suck your dick.”

————

“...is this comma supposed to be there?”

“Let me see? ......Ah, no. -2.”

“...kind of severe.”

——-

By the time he’s pants up, hands shaky as he recovers from frankly some of the best fellatio you’ve ever performed, the sun is just about to set. You finish your sip of water from where you’re stood in the kitchen, skimming over the assignments to check they all have a grade. When he comes up to kitchen, his hands pressed into his back pockets, you look up and give him a smile.

“Good job,” you say.

He nods and reaches for the water. You return to his bedroom to pull on the jeans you had discarded two nights earlier, the first time he had pulled you into bed to sleep, returning minutes later. When he turns and sees you, he raises his eye brows.

“Headed out?”

“Desperately need a shower.” You walk to the counter and pick up the papers. You examine his bandage. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he runs a finger along the underside. “They said I can come in a day earlier, but they want me to stay home tomorrow.”

“Didn’t even offer to bring you homework?” You ask. He shrugs.

“Steve might. Not til 5 though.”

“A whole day of nothing.” You make a face.

“...I like reading.” He says. You look back up at him.

“Huh?”

“For fun.” he clarifies. Then, as if realizing he may have just disclosed something, he clears his throat and looks away “Maybe I’ll find something.” He says. He nods to the door. “I’ll see you out.”

You walk with him to the door and wait as he unlocks it. Holding it open he leans against it.

You’re about to say goodbye when he leans forward and catches you in a kiss. It’s longer than you would have expected from him, given whatever this arrangement was. Yet you’re not pulling away. When he finally does break, you find yourself leaning forward, chasing his lips.

“Get home safe,” he says. You roll your eyes, making for your door. When you get it open, you look up and see him still watching you. You look down and smile, pressing forward and closing the door behind you.

A moment later, you rap three times on your shared wall.

If you’re not mistaken, you hear a muffled laugh.

————

When he opens the door at 7:00 the next morning, he’s surprised to see you on the mat.

“Hey,” he says, pressing his hand into his eye, rubbing the sleep out. “What-“

“Sorry, I have to get to the school early, but,” you reach out your items to him. Still bleary eyed, it takes him a moment to focus.

“I bought them at the airport when I came down,” you shrug. “They’re shit, but they hold your attention. This one actually is decent by the end, if you can push through .” You tap the cover on top. “Just in case you need something to do.”

He looks up at you, his face still perplexed. You shake you head.

“You’re welcome,” you sigh. You turn and begin walking to the door when you hear him behind you.

“Hey,” he says. You turn and see him standing on the mat, outside of his house. He holds up the stack. “Thanks.”

You stop and sigh.

Then you smile.

“Just take care of yourself today. Don’t need that bursting open the minute you don’t have adult supervision.” You point to has bandage before turning to walk out. Just before the door closes, you hear it.

“It’s not serious!!”

#javier #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x oc #narcos #it's nothing serious

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deafeninggardenerpanda · 4 years ago

Text

Kirby had arrived on the Rainbow Islands completely focused on the idea of a vacation, but found himself unable to speak at the sight laid out before his eyes. The formerly beautiful Rainbow Islands had completely changed: The ground was covered in cracks, and the plants were wilting; The rivers and lakes were almost completely dried up, leaving only a few puddles, in which the small fish were hopping about, seemingly suffering.

“This is really bad...”

Kirby sat down on the dry ground in protest. King Dedede had been merrily holding his life preserver in one hand before seeing the terrible sight, causing his expression to turn grim.

“Yup... We can’t just ignore this. This isn’t the right time for a vacation!”

Bandana Waddle Dee looked up at the king, anxiety present in his eyes.

“Great King, what’s going on?!”

“I have no idea, but I’ve got a feeling this isn’t just a natural disaster…”

King Dedede took off his sunglasses and looked around at the scenery with a sharp gaze.

“Someone must’ve done this. If we don’t find out who did this, it won’t rain here forever!”

“Indeed. I agree.”

A heavy voice came from behind the king and Kirby. The two looked back. There stood the masked swordsman Meta Knight, along with his men. Kirby quickly stood up.

“Meta Knight!” he yelled. “You came to help us!”

“I have received a report from Captain Vul. He seemed more excited than usual to save the Rainbow Islands.”

Meta Knight looked back at Captain Vul.

“Uh-Um-Umm- It’s simply my responsibility as a member of Dream Land’s military to save the citizens when they’re in trouble! Lord Meta Knight, surely you would never abandon the Rainbow Islands!”

“Indeed.”

Meta Knight waved his cape as he turned to face Kirby.

“The damage is more serious than I had thought. If we do not act fast, the Rainbow Islands shall fall to utter ruin.”

“Uh-huh!”

Kirby nodded his head in agreement.

“We’ve gotta do something! But how can we make it rain?”

“First of all, investigate. It is possible that someone has put a curse on the Rainbow Islands. Look for anything unusual.”

“Got it! Let’s go look together!”

“The Rainbow Islands have a lot of ground to cover,” Rick said, “let’s split up and investigate. I’ll try to look around this island with Kirby. Meta Knight’s team, Dedede’s team, go look around the other islands.”

“Alright.”

“Leave it to me!” the king said. “I’ll take out the bad guy behind this as soon as I find them!”

Meta Knight led his subordinates North; Dedede and his Waddle Dees went South; Then Kirby, Rick, Kine, and Coo searched around the hinterland of the central island.

Split into three teams, the investigation had finally begun.

~~~~~

Kirby and co. pushed aside the withered trees as they made their way toward the heart of the island.

“OWW!!! OWIEEEEEEEE!!!!”

The loud yells came from Kine. Despite how he had been training so that he’d be able to live on land, he still wasn’t that good at moving around on the ground. Every time the group would push past a withered tree, his fins would get stuck on a branch.

“You’re not really built for looking around on land,” Rick said, “you can sit this one out.”

“Not a chance!~” Kine responded stiffly. I’m a member of the research team, after all- OUCHIE!!!”

“If we’re ‘investigating,’ what are we looking for?” Kirby asked. “Meta Knight said someone probably cursed the islands, but-”

“Basically,” Rick said, “you’ll have to find evidence of there being a curse.”

“What would be evidence?”

“Something like... a dark magic altar, or some kind of evil mystical barrier? A doll nailed to a tree, some kind of ritual sacrifice-”

“Whaaaat?!”

Kine, having forgotten to complain about his pain, got up, trembling.

“I-I’m scared~! I don’t wanna get cursed~!”

“It’s ok! If we find the magic altar, I’ll destroy it on sight!”

“I-It’s no good, Rick. I’ll just end up getting cursed anyway~.”

He appeared to be on the verge of tears when the group heard a voice call out from the sky.

“I see something strange ahead of us.”

It was Coo. He continued to fly over the trees, surveying the land from high above.

“What is it?” Kine asked as he trembled. “A cursed altar?” A doll?”

“No, nothing of that sort. It seems that someone has fallen from the sky.”

“Huh?”

“Come this way.”

Coo flew up high. Kirby and the others followed him. Then… past the withering plants, someone in white clothes could be seen on the ground.

“Oh, you’re right!”

“This is the girl who fell. Is she ok?”

Kirby and the gang hurried toward where the person fell. Coo also swooped down from the sky. There, they found a young girl in white clothes. She was round, yet healthy, with short limbs, transparent wings on her back, and ribbon tied in a bow in her curly hair.

“C’mon, wake up!”

Rick shook the young girl awake. She opened her eyes lightly. She blinked repeatedly, looking around at the group, and spoke with a frail voice:

“Thi… This place… Where…? You all…?”

“This place is called the Rainbow Islands,” Kirby replied, “I’m Kirby, and these are my friends Rick, Kine, and Coo. And you are-?”

“I… am Pirka.”

“Why did you fall asleep in a place like this? Are you hungry?”

At the sound of Kirby’s happy-go-lucky voice, Pirka narrowly smiled.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping. I-”

Pirka looked up at the sky.

“-fell down.”

“Fell? From where?”

“From the clouds above.”

Pirka pointed at the blue sky. Just above, a small cloud was floating. It was a strangely ominous blueish color.

“From all the way up there?!” Kine shouted in surprise. “Are you ok?!”

Kirby and co. took another look at Pirka. She had a couple injuries here and there. There were a few scratches on her hands and face, and her wings appeared to be aching as well. Both her clothes and bow were dirty. Rick looked worried.

“You’re lucky you survived after a fall like that,” he said, “it’s a miracle.”

“High places aren’t a problem for me. After all, I have wings.”

“But you have all those bruises-”

“These weren’t caused by the fall. I-”

Pirka was about to speak, but Coo interrupted her.

“We’ll listen to your story later. First of all, you need treatment for those wounds.”

“Yeah!”

Kirby nodded his head.

“If you wanna get better, you’re gonna have to eat something. I know that I feel better when I’m full!”

If that’s the case,” Rick said, “let’s go to my house. My girlfriend Pick makes great snacks. She can bake a delicious cake for you.”

“My wife’s a good cook too~,” Kine said “I bet she’ll make you a whole healthy meal. Come on, Pirka.”

“...thank you.”

Pirka took Kirby’s hand and stood up. Together, the group made their way back to the village where Rick and the others’ homes were. Meta Knight and King Dedede, who had received the news, had already gotten to Rick’s house. The king stared at Pirka scrutinizingly.

“Is that girl the culprit?” he asked. “Did she put a curse on the Rainbow Islands so it wouldn’t rain?”

“Nah,” Kirby said, “this is Pirka! She fell down here from above the clouds.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“He means-”

Pirka got cut off by none other than Rick’s girlfriend, Pick.

“Don’t rush like that. Pirka, take a break and have a bite to eat. You need to recover your strength. I made cream puffs. Please, help yourself.”

“We have sandwiches too,” said Mine, Kine’s wife, “and nutritious soup and salad.”

King Dedede, seeing all the tasty-looking food, licked his lips.

“Oh, now doesn’t this look tasty! Maybe I can just have one bi-”

“NO YOU CAN’T!!!” Pick and Mine shouted together, blocking the path of the king.

“This is for Pirka, not you!”

“Yes. We made these for Pirka, so hands off!”

As one would expect, King Dedede was overwhelmed by the two’s force.

“Wh-What? If that’s the case, then what do I get?”

The persistent king was stopped by Meta Knight.

“Wait, Dedede. Now, let’s hear Pirka’s story first. I find the part about her falling from above the clouds concerning. Pirka, would you mind sharing your story as you eat?”

“Yes.”

Pirka nodded her head in agreement before speaking.

“I am a traveler. I do not have my own house, so I travel all around the stars. I had a lot of fun visiting the Rainbow Islands and watching the pretty blue sea, but…”

Pirka’s expression became clouded.

“One day, some uncanny creature happened to see me.”

“Uncanny…?”

“Yes. That thing floated high into the sky, floating on the wind. While I was wondering what it was, it disappeared into the clouds. Erm, immediately after, it stopped raining in the Rainbow Islands.”

“What’s that?” King Dedede asked, leaning forward. “I mean, you’re telling me that whatever that creature was, it’s the one that cursed the Rainbow Islands? Can you tell us what it looked like?!”

“King Dedede, please be quiet for just a little bit,” Mine said to the king.

“Please let Pirka finish speaking,” Pick said, nodding in agreement, “she’s gone through a lot. Let’s all be quiet and listen.”

“U-Um… I understand.”

As his friends, Meta Knight and Kirby usually let the domineering king do whatever he pleased. However, this pair proved to be too much for the king to handle. He meekly backed down. Pirka continued to tell her tale.

“I had come to the same conclusion as King Dedede. I assumed that the creature was up to no good, so I tried to pursue it.”

“By yourself?!” Kine said, astonished. “That’s dangerous~! You should’ve asked someone to go with you.”

“I’m a traveler, so I always act alone.”

Pirka took a bite of her sandwich and continued.

“Looking over the clouds, the most peculiar sight was laid out before me: There was a beautiful lake, with lots and lots of water stored in it.”

“A lake? Above the clouds?” Kirby asked. Pirka nodded her head.

“Yes. There was so much water, it looked as if it were about to overflow. I was wondering how there could be so much water there if it wouldn’t rain… when…”

Pirka turned pale.

“Um, the uncanny creature appeared. It obstructed the waterflow from the lake. That’s why it hasn’t been raining.”

“What’s that??” King Dedede barked. This time, neither Pick nor Mine bothered trying to stop him. “Who even is that thing anyway?? Why would it even do that??”

“I don’t know. Quite loudly, I asked, ‘why would you do such a thing?!’ but the creature wouldn’t answer. It just attacked me without warning.”

Pirka quivered.

“I didn’t have the powers to fight it. It easily beat me in combat, beat me up, and pushed me off the clouds. Since I had wings, I managed to avoid plummeting head first into the ground, but it was too much for me… I fainted. Since then, until you all saved me, I had been unconscious.”

For a moment, Kirby and the others were silent, deep in thought. The one to break the silence was Coo.

“Vital information. We cannot ignore this. We must capture that scoundrel who’s blocking the flow of the lake!”

“Yeah.”

Meta Knight nodded his head.

“We must attack immediately. Kirby, Dedede, are you ready?”

The two both nodded yes.

“Yeah, I’m ready!”

“Obviously! Now’s my time to shine!”

“I’ll go too!” said Rick. Then, without a moment’s delay, Kine joined too.

“Me too~! We’ve gotta get that bad guy!”

“Of course, I’ll be joining as well,” said Coo. Pick and Mine chimed in, concern evident in their voices.

“Rick… How will you get above the clouds?”

“Indeed. Kine, you can’t fly.”

“We’ll be fine~!” Kine said. Rick nodded and puffed out his chest.

“We’re lucky to have Coo on our side! I know he’ll be able to get us all up there!”

“Don’t say such absurd things,” Coo said sternly, “I am incapable of flying to such a height while carrying all of you.”

“But-”

Meta Knight interrupted Rick.

“I can provide assistance. I’ll prepare a smaller boat onboard my battleship, the Halberd. It should be able to take you above the clouds.”

“Thanks a lot! Now that that’s decided, let’s not waste any more time!” Rick said, full of energy. Meta Knight looked at Pirka.

“Pirka, you may rest here. We’ll punish the culprit by any means necessary.”

“...no. I’ll come with you all too,” Pirka said, deep thought evident in her eyes.

“Pirka, it’s fine if you don’t come~,” Kine said, “Stay here, Pick and Mine can make you a nice home-cooked meal to help you recover. You’ve gotta take it easy-”

“No.”

Pirka shook her head.

“I’m the only one who can give you the directions to where it happened. I want to make myself the slightest bit useful. Please, take me with you.”

Rick nodded his head.

“Pirka has a point. She’s the only one who’s seen what the culprit looks like. Let’s bring her with us, just in case.”

“Just don’t be a hindrance,” King Dedede said, “hide behind me when it gets dangerous.”

“Yes sir!”

Pirka nodded her head strongly.

“If you’re going to go out on an adventure, Rick,” Pick said, “then take this.”

“Huh?”

Pick took off a small bag from her own neck, then hung it around Rick’s.

“I knitted this. It’s a pouch with a charm inside. It’ll surely project everyone.”

“Pick…”

Moved, Rick took Pick’s hand.

“Thanks. I’ll be back!”

“We'll do our best~!” Kine said in an uncharacteristically valiant voice, “I know we’ll bring the rain back, won’t we?”

“Kine, please be careful," Mine said.

“Great King,” Bandana Waddle Dee said, looking up at King Dedede, “please stay safe. Kirby, you too.”

“Got it! We’ll do our best!”

Kirby cheerfully raised one of his hands up.

“Everyone, let’s go above the clouds! BYE-BYEEEEE!”

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#kirby #rick (kirby)#pick (kirby)#kine #mine (kirby)#coo #king dedede #meta knight #bandana waddle dee #captain vul #pirka #Kirby: Save the Rainbow Islands!#kirby light novel #translations

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hargrove-mayfields · 4 years ago

Text

Lover, Lover, Number 9

Second day of HWOL!! Today’s prompt was Love Potion!! Read here or on my ao3 @ej_writer

Word Count: 4,593

Rating: T

Warnings: Non-Consensual Touching (Pretty much blink and you miss it and very non-explicit. It happens while a person(s) is under the influence of a love potion.)

It’s all Max’s fault, honest.

For the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, Billy’s been trying to pick the best person to be his date. Not that Valentine’s was really that important to him, per se, but he’d made a bet.

His step sister, the little brat, had made a wager that if he didn’t have himself a date by the fourteenth of February, he’d be forced to drive her everywhere she wanted to go for a whole year.

There was no way he was about to fork over that much of his time to some snotty middle schoolers, but finding someone he’s willing to go out with, a condition of Max’s bet was that it couldn’t just be a hookup, ended up being a lot harder than he anticipated.

Before he knew it, there were only two days left before he either got a date, or subjected himself to the dweeb-orama gang.

He tried to ask Carol, since Tommy dumped her right before the big day and she seemed to be into him, or at least how his ass looked in his jeans, but she tells him she doesn’t want to deal with the drama. So he tries Tommy, but he wants commitment and feels like Billy’s just in it to best Max, which, yeah, he sort of is. Everyone else follows the same pattern, can’t keep up with his reputation, can’t trust him in a relationship, on and on and on.

It’s over breakfast one morning, as he groggily makes him and his sister both a bowl of cereal, that Max asks him, “Why don’t you just ask Steve?”

Billy acts unphased, doesn’t even bother to look at her. “Steve who?”

“C’mon stupid.” His sister rolls her eyes and drags a bowl over towards herself. “Everyone knows you like Steve Harrington.”

“Do not.” He shovels a mouthful of cereal in his mouth.

“Right. Lemme guess, you don’t eat like a pig either?”

“Very funny.” He fixes her with a glare. “I’m serious shitbird, just because I like him doesn’t mean I like him.”

She nods and agrees. “Sure.”

“And just because he's nice to me doesn’t mean I have to have the hots for him.”

“If you insist.” Her bottom lip juts out as she agrees with overemphasis.

“What is your problem?” He snaps.

“I’m just agreeing with you. You don’t like Steve Harrington.” There’s a mischievous smile darkening her sweet face as she tells him matter-of-factly, “But, if you’re really desperate, I know a way to get him to like you.”

And Billy already knows what she means, of course the little shit would suggest something like that. “Nuh-uh. No way, I am not using magic.”

“Why not? Clearly you need it.”

“Because I can do it on my own, brat. Just don’t want to.” He's too defensive for it to not be true and they both know it, so before he lets a thirteen year old do anymore damage to his ego, he adds, “Can't deal with your bull this early.”

Max looks at him all smug like, her eyebrows raised as she hides a knowing smile behind her cereal bowl, but she does let it go, if not just to watch her step brother stew in silent annoyance. She’d gotten under his skin so easy, and she thought it was funny.

Her step brother, on the other hand, does not, and narrows his eyes at her, practically snarling at the look on her face. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t even saying anything!” She bites back.

Billy grumbles and dumps his bowl in the sink, and leaves to his room to avoid babysitting his sister.

He’s starting to realize that Max had set him up. The real reason she made the stupid bet wasn’t to torture him with driving her and her nerds around, but because she thought she could hook him up with Steve.

But that doesn’t matter, because he's not pining after Steve Harrington, no matter what his little sister says.

Sure, Steve had invited him over to his place a few times, but that was just a courtesy since they were friends from basketball. And it didn’t matter that he happened to be the prettiest boy Billy ever laid eyes on, with his soft hair the color of chestnut and his doe eyes just as dark, and his long nose and his pretty red lips and-

Okay, maybe he was a little into Harrington, but again, he wasn’t going out with his best friend just because his step sister dared him to.

He can’t just call the bet off, but he’s not willing to lose either. The clock was ticking, Valentine’s Day getting closer and closer, so he’d just have to settle on somebody soon.

Admittedly, it would make things a lot easier just to cheap out and use magic, after all, he’d been trying and failing to get a date for weeks, but that could be dangerous, and Billy’s been barred from using his powers for a few years now anyways.

His father was ashamed to have a freak for a son, so ever since Max and her mother came around, he wasn’t actually supposed to use any magic at all anymore, not even for the most insignificant of things. Hell, with how tight of a leash Neil kept on him, his step sister wasn’t even technically supposed to know he’d inherited the knack from his mother.

He doesn’t really listen to that rule, but there’s no way for Neil to keep tabs on that kind of thing, so he still puts a charm on his and his sisters bedroom doors every night to keep unwanted guests out, and he still uses spells for his convenience whenever he can get away with it.

In all honesty, he could do without that stuff. Incantations were boring, spells were too basic. His favorite, the one thing he misses having the liberty to do, that’s got to be potions.

Before his mother’d left him behind, ran off to live the uninhibited life of a free spirit every witch dreamed of having, she had been very proud that Billy had taken after her in his powers, and in his skill for potion making especially.

They would make them together a lot of the time, huddled up down in the basement when his dad wasn’t home so she could show him the ropes and teach him all the recipes she knew.

He’d caught on real quick, well enough that she didn’t need to hover after the first few attempts at one type. Sometimes he wishes he’d been less proficient for just a little longer, so she’d have had a reason to stay and keep helping him.

Among their most common to make though were potions of luck and protection, elixirs, anything positive really. His mother may have also, on occasion, made a more powerful potion, one to keep under the pillows, in a flask on her hip, to spike her husband's coffee with every morning, just so Neil couldn’t hurt her or her son, but Billy was sworn to secrecy on that one.

Under his bed he still had a trunk full to bursting with everything of his mothers’ he had been able to keep, including their already prepared potions. Rows and rows of intricate crystal bottles, some still full to the top while others had only a few drops left, depending on how useful they were, all neatly displayed along with the rest of the memories of his mother.

She absolutely never allowed him to make anything dangerous, the first thing she ever taught him was to always keep hate out of his magic, so she’d let him practice more complicated and powerful potions with something a little less destructive.

Something like love potions.

It becomes his sort of trademark, the earthy smell of rose hips and cinnamon clinging to his skin from hours bent over their big cauldron they kept stored away. Even now, without having brewed anything for almost a year since they’d moved houses, it still lingered, like an aura.

They made up for some of his best work, the hardest of the love potions coming easier to him than the easiest of the medicinal ones. The best he’d ever made was a platonic love potion that his mom let him use the teensiest drop of to stop a fight between his friends at school, and to this day he was still proud of that one.

His mom had always said it made sense that that would be where he excelled, loving with his whole heart was just in his nature, and his craft was the reflection of that. In the same sense, it comes as no surprise when he’d stopped being able to brew anything stronger than potpourri after she’d walked out on him and broke that big heart right in two.

He didn’t know if keeping every of the potions that he made was genuinely because of their potential usefulness, like he tried to convince himself, or if it was a way to hold onto a time when he was still good at what he did. A time when he was happy.

Were he going to use one of those potions he kept stashed away, as Max had not so subtly suggested, he knows exactly which one he would choose. Not number six, not number twenty-seven, he would need number nine.

Not that he would, because he refuses to use his magic for petty relationships. Yet another thing his mom had drilled into him from the start was to never use his gift to take advantage of other people.

But then another day passes, and Billy's got to at least consider it, if not only for the sake of him not having to provide chauffeuring services to his least favorite bratpack.

In all reality, it wouldn’t be so bad to date Steve, he was nice enough and cute enough, but he feels they were sort of of the same polarity. They could get along just fine now, but there was some force, some energy between the two that kept them apart.

For every step they take forward, say, Steve agreeing to keep his magical secret from the moment they met, they have to take one back.

That fact had been well established in his mind since the moment he noticed himself making heart eyes; he and Steve just weren’t going to work out. Not after months of oblivious pigtail pulling, not after pushing Steve out of his own social circle, and definitely not after their fist fight in November.

Billy thinks he takes rejection from Tommy and Carol and everyone else in stride, but Steve wasn’t like them. The relationship they already had teetered on the line between rivals and friends, always one argument away from going back to that place, and Billy’s unwilling to lose that constant.

Of course, he wouldn’t have to worry about rejection and ruining friendships if he used magic.

But that was wrong. Number 9 was the strongest of the strong. It was said that it was powerful enough to make oil and water mix, but even then its effects only lasted for exactly twenty minutes. The jig’d be up quick, and his pretty boy would be right back to hating him.

There was always the slightest chance too that it were brewed just right, and Steve would love him forever, the bond that would form between them the moment he drank from Billy’s magic maybe enough to last, despite their differences. It wasn’t guaranteed to turn out bad, so maybe, just maybe, he’d give it a shot.

Godammit, had Max gotten in his head.

~~~~~

Billy knows he’s an idiot, a complete and total dumbass for showing up to the party with a crystal vial in his pocket, but he can’t help it.

There’s no guarantee he’s even going to use it, it’s just in his pocket as a sort of security blanket. He doesn’t even catch a glimpse of Steve anywhere among the crowd, so he sees no harm in it.

Well, at least not until someone, he’d have to guess it was Tommy, slips a hand into the pocket of Billy’s jacket, apparently able to sense a bottle from a mile away, and steals it. Like it’s just his own secret stash of alcohol instead of the most powerful piece of magic he’d sure as hell ever owned, let alone to have ever been used in Hawkins, a traditionalist town known for its distinct lack of witchcraft.

Only he doesn’t notice that it’s been swiped, not until he catches a glimpse of the gentle pink glow that only he could see in someone else’s hand from across the room, hovering just inches above the punch bowl.

He’d like to think he’s pretty powerful in his craft, he'd been raised by a witch who’d in her time been strong enough to get kicked out of her coven for threatening the High Priest, but in that moment he just sort of freezes.

There’s an infinite number of spells he could’ve used; he knows how to stop time, how to recall objects, and about a thousand and one other handy little ways to stop the vial from being overturned into that bowl.

And yet, his brain freezes up, and before he can do anything about it, there’s a thick fog rolling off of the bowl, and the air smells sweet and sticky like ladies perfume, and the liquid is shining all bright pink.

Billy is officially screwed.

It’s one thing for a single person to drink a love potion, but mixing it with any other liquid? That shit turned into a weapon.

He knows he’s not gonna make it in time, but he’s at least gotta try to stop it, get people as far away from it as possible. He muscles his way across the room, pushing past the crowd of teenagers to try to get to it first. “Nobody fucking touch the punch.”

But his voice calling over the crowd draws their attention to him, and there’s at least fifty hollow gazes fixed right on him. Judging by the looks on their faces, the pinpoint pupils and the awe stricken smiles, he’s too late.

There’s one breathless moment where Billy realizes what's about to happen and tries to back away before all hell breaks loose, but all at once they all surge forward trying to get their hands on him.

Momma didn’t stick around long enough to teach him how to discharge a potion, and he wasn’t going to make it the whole twenty minutes in this herd. The front door is his only escape.

It’s so dark in the room, other than the light from the potion’s ambience, that he can’t make out who’s who, whose lips those are on his neck, whose hands are on his hips and tangled up in his hair, so he just trudges forward as best he can, trying to shake each person off, only to get another wrapped around him.

But, in the magic induced state, they’re strong, and they don’t want to let him go. Fingernails dig into his skin, arms wrap tight around his waist, any way they can hold onto him to try keep him from moving any closer to that door, they do.

It’s like walking in gelatin, so many people trying to stop him, and it takes him way longer than it should, but he makes it to the door.

Before he can open it, someone’s pushing his back up against it and reaching a hand up under his shirt. Another someone presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He feels blindly for the door knob and gets it in his hand after a few attempts, the ordeal being all the harder when there were so many people who wanted those hands on them, and twists it.

The rush of cold air from outside and the lights from the streetlight on the sidewalk helps a little to dilute the strength of the potion, weakening just enough the grip of those under his influence that he can wriggle out and slam the door shut behind him.

He keeps his back pressed against it, his arms holding on to either side of the door frame as tight as he could so nobody else can get out. Checking his watch, there were still about seven more minutes until the potion would wear off.

He could see the faintest glow of pink light shining from under the door and behind the curtains on the front window, and he thought about what they were doing without him. Probably talking about how he was the coolest, the ones who’d gotten their hands on him bragging.

No one but him would remember what happened anyways.

To make his escape, wait out the rest of the potion's effects, and hightail it before anybody remembered he was even here, well, that would have just been too easy. Because this is Billy Hargrove, so of course, at that very moment, who would approach the house but Steve fucking Harrington.

“Hargrove?” He looks confusedly up at Billy, and climbs a few of the porch steps to ask him, “What’re you doin’ out here man?”

“Party’s a bummer. Thinking ‘bout ditching.” The nonchalance he’s able to portray in his voice is in direct contrast with the way his hair is frizzed out and his clothes are all messy from what happened inside.

Steve doesn’t seem to pay it any mind though, because he offers him a smile, and responds to Billy like this situation didn’t look weird at all, with him sprawled out over the door and in such bad shape. “Mind if I join you? Wasn’t really looking forward to all the people tonight anyways.”

“Uh, if you give me,” Billy turns his wrist, still not letting go of the door, and reads the time on his watch again, “three and a half minutes, then we can blow.”

Steve leans a little to try to see in the window. “Is somethin’ going on?”

“Nothin’, nothin’ just uh, told Tom I’d stay ‘til quarter after.” It’s a bullshit excuse, Steve already knows he and Tommy aren’t even that close, but Billy just focuses on counting down the seconds and doesn’t think too much about it. “And…. we’re good.”

“You are so weird, dude.” Steve remarks while he waits for Billy on the steps. He looks back over his shoulder when they’re walking away but visibly shrugs it off. “Did you drive?”

“You know I don’t park my baby on the street.” His prized Camaro had yet to make an appearance at one of these parties, for a platitude of reasons, but the main one being that he might have to break his mother’s golden rule and put a curse on someone if his beauty got so much as a scratch.

“Figures.” Steve remarked. He didn’t think the Camaro was all that, thought it was too loud and too fast.

His BMW isn’t too far off, showing up late meant he had to take a street spot instead of cramming into the driveway, but that only made it easier to get out.

While he starts it up, he asks Billy, “Where are we going? I picked last time.”

“Far away from here as possible.” He mutters in response.

Before he pulls away from the curb, Steve asks, “Did something happen, Bills? You’re acting all, weird.” There was genuine concern laced into his voice, none of that playfulness that they usually had.

But for Billy, anything would be better than having to own up to what had happened. He’d have to admit to the whole, desperate for love, he used a potion he made when he was seven to try to make Steve Harrington fall for him, and that was not ideal, to put it simply.

Only, he felt obligated to explain, because he knew what Steve was thinking had happened. He knew too much about the sorts of things Billy told not a single other soul.

His magic was one thing. Where nobody was really supposed to know Hawkins got a new spell caster for the first time in ages, Steve had some grandma or someone who was a witch and had recognized that shit in a heartbeat.

Observational skills like that, it was no surprise he’d figured out the truth about his father too. About where the bruises and the scars came from.

So he knows that’s what Steve’s thinking right now, that Billy’s acting off because of something his dad did, and it would feel wrong not to tell him the truth, to be pitied when nothing even happened this time. Still, he’s not exactly thrilled about having to confess about the potion.

“Someone brought a fucking Number 9 to the party.” Billy flips the sun visor down to see himself in the little mirror there. There’s kiss marks all over him that he tries to rub off with his sleeve, but the leather doesn’t do much but make the skin flush.

“Shit, not a number nine.” Steve says it like he’s confident in it, but his gaze keeps flickering over to Billy to gauge his reaction. It’s clear that he has no idea what he’s talking about. “What's- what’s number nine?”

Billy snorts and explains, “Only the strongest love potion out there. Went straight into the punch.”

He doesn’t have much of a grip on the magical world, but he knew enough to guess that was a problem. “What kind of a dipstick would bring that?”

Billy stopped wiping at his face and looked over at Steve with that ‘come on, stupid’ look on his face. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the only dipstick who walked away from the place covered in fucking lipstick.”

“Really?” There’s a teasing tone in his voice, like a parent who found out there kid had a crush, and it makes Billy want to sock him. “And who does Billy Hargrove need a love potion for?”

“For you.” It takes all the courage he has, but he admits it. His eyes flicker nervously between Steve and everywhere else, waiting for his response.

And what he gets is, “Pfft. You know I don’t need magic to get the ladies.” Let it be known that no one ever accused Steve of being the brightest.

As if he hadn’t noticed that Steve was a skeezer. As if his heart hadn’t already been broken a thousand times over because of it. “Yeah, no shit.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but maybe a little bit in denial too. “Then why’d you bring me a love potion?”

“Steve.” It sounds like a plea, an exhausted attempt to get him to understand, but Steve isn’t in on it.

“What?” Billy just sort of raises his eyebrows in response, and something about it makes it click in Steve’s head.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, and when he speaks again, his voice is all breathless, “You were going to use it on me?”

“Doesn’t take a genius.” And that’s the end of it.

They don’t talk about it. Steve drives them out to the quarry in silence, occasionally looking over at Billy like he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

As soon as they get there, before Steve’s even got the chance to put the bimmer in park, Billy’s out of the car and sitting on the edge of the rocky lookout.

He needs a smoke, needs the burning in his lungs to distract him from the weight of what he had just admitted to Steve. His hands are shaking as he fumbles with a match, trying and failing to light the cigarette on three different matches before he decides to give up.

Steve taps his shoulder and hands Billy his zippo before sitting down next to him. “You didn’t have to.”

Billy lights it up and takes a long drag, giving Steve back his light with a cigarette as thanks, filling his lungs with as much smoke as he can before he can respond. “Have to what?”

“Try to use magic on me.” Steve’s staring down at his hands, calculating every last word he says. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah, I know Harrington. It was creepy. Just drop it.” There’s a sharpness in that tone that hasn’t been there for months, and it makes the both of them wince.

Steve explains himself, hurt by the coldness, “No, I think it’s sweet! I mean, that you would do that for me.”

“Get over yourself. Was just messin’ around, wanted to see if I could do it.” That’s what gives him away. Billy was too sure of his own prowess for that to be all of it, and so Steve decides to press him for the truth.

“Don’t you want to know what I would’ve said though, if you asked me?”

“Honestly? No.” He really, really does.

Steve pretends like he doesn’t hear that and tells him anyways. “I like you Billy.”

It hitches his breath to hear that, but Billy’s got to be rational. “Yeah? You like me or the cinnamon?”

Steve’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What?”

“It’s an ingredient in the potion, Steve. Do you mean it or did you get a whiff of that shit somehow?” He still doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the churning water, and it registers with Steve that he doesn’t want to see absent admiration, pinpoint pupils, any sign that this isn’t real.

So he assures him, his voice as soft as it can be, “I mean it. I really really like you, and if you’re not gonna believe me, then- then I guess I’ll just have to prove it.“

Who would’ve expected Steve to make the first move? Stumbling, bumbling Steve Harrington, the one to lean in first. But he is, it’s him who uses those long fingers to turn Billy’s face towards his and presses their lips together.

If, you know, there wasn’t a more pressing matter at hand, like the fact that the boy he’d just tried to use love magic on was kissing him without the assistance of said magic, Billy might’ve been a little disappointed in himself to not be the one to initiate it.

But they’d have time for that argument later, about who did what when, right now his mind was more focused on not just sitting there, on moving his lips against the other boys and

It feels like forever before Steve pulls away to put a hand on the back of Billy’s head so he can bring their foreheads together.

Steve’s breathless as he says, “Wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in the parking lot.”

“Good. Didn’t want to have to brew any more.” Billy says without a hint of seriousness.

Steve nudges him with his elbow. “I’m trying to be romantic, you ass.”

“No seriously, hibiscus is super hard to come by around here, couldn’t afford to waste any on you.”

Crossing his arms, Steve fixes Billy with a stern look that makes him laugh.

“M’only teasin’ ya pretty boy.” He crumples his cigarette into the asphalt and puts his hand on Steve’s knee. “Kiss me like that again, would ya?”

And he does. Every time Billy asks, Steve’ll kiss him just like that first time, soft and gentle and sweet in a way he’s never had, no magic required.

Needless to say, Billy definitely won that bet.

#harringrove week of love #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#this is based on a fraggles episode! I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity!#I thought I wasn’t going to like this but it turned out to be one of my favorites #even though it took way longer than it was supposed to lol #super proud of how it turned out though

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re-diesirae · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 5

5. Leon

Leon walked in the darkness; his gun ready to shoot anything that could be a threat as he tried to find his way out of the tunnel. He had woken up a couple of hours ago and found himself trapped inside a tiny cell guarded by two men that, he guessed, were part of the terrorist group that had tried to kidnap Claire. The first thing he did after waking up was to look around the place, but to his dismay, there were no signs of the red-headed.

"Where did those bastards take her to?" he mumbled with irritation.

He was thinking of a way to break free when he caught the two men talking in whispers.

"What are we supposed to do with the guy?"

"That's what we are waiting to hear. The high-ups only ordered us to bring the Redfield chick. This guy just tagged along uninvited, but I bet they will find some use for him."

"Another lab rat," one of the men scoffed. "I pity him."

"He got it by himself. He shouldn't have interfered."

Leon heard the men laugh, but their laughter was interrupted by a soft slashing sound and a thud. After some seconds, the agent listened to the cell doors screech open, and a bright light pointed to his face. Leon raised his hand to block the blinding light and frowned at the familiar person standing in front of him.

"Ada?"

"So we meet again, Leon," the Asian spy said. Her lips curled into a playful smile, "here, from all places."

"What are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't I be asking the same? From how I see it, I've got more reasons to be here than you do."

"I doubt it," Leon said, walking out from the cell and facing the woman, "These bastards took my friend."

"Ah, yes. The Redfield girl. I had heard that you were close."

"Do you know where they hold Claire?"

"No, why would I care about her? She isn't my mission."

Leon raised his eyebrow, and Ada smirked.

"I think she found her way out. She's probably running somewhere. If she's alive, of course," she added, "but from what I've heard, I wouldn't bet against her chances."

No, it would be a stupid idea to bet against Claire. She was a skilled woman that knew how to handle herself in a crisis. Leon frowned. He never knew what to expect from Ada, but somehow he could not bring himself to distrust her.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here, Ada?"

"Work," she answered, "nothing you should know about, pretty boy. I was about to leave when I heard that you'd gotten yourself caught. It's been a while, so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Here..."

Ada threw him some things, and Leon caught them in the air. His handguns and holsters, and also his phone.

"I believe you will need those."

Leon put his things back into place and looked at the spy.

"Thanks. Care to enlighten me of where we are?"

"Sorry, handsome, but I can tell you how to get out, though," Ada said, "if you follow this tunnel, you should reach outside. Don't worry about the guards. There aren't many."

"Took care of them for me?"

"No, guards are useless in this place," Ada smirked, "until next time, Leon."

Before Leon could say anything, the Asian woman was already gone. He would never understand her, but the time and place were not the right ones to ponder about the subject. He had to find Claire, make sure she was safe, and figure out where they were and how to get out.

Just like Ada had said, he did not meet any other guards on the way outside. However, once he was out of the tunnel, things became less friendly. Leon crossed paths with a bunch of people infected with Plagas, or at least, that's what the man thought. They lurked in the darkness of the forest, waiting for any unguarded passerby to jump over him, but luckily, he had managed to kill them without problems.

After a few minutes of trying, he managed to contact Hunnigan. The signal was not clear, but hopefully, it was enough for her to locate his position and send help. In the meantime, his primary objective was finding the youngest Redfield.

Tracking down Claire would not be easy. She could be anywhere, but if he knew her well enough, the first thing the woman would do would be arming herself. The best place to do that would be a place where people lived, so finding a settlement would help him find her.

Leon searched for a town or anything similar as he navigated the forest, but so far, he had not found anything. Then suddenly, he heard a loud bang, and he saw the flames of an explosion raise from a short distance from his position.

Smirking to himself, he could only guess if that was Claire, but he did not lose anything by checking it out, and so he had found himself walking in that direction.

For what he could see, it was indeed a town, or at least what remained of it. The fire was starting to spread, and the whole place was like a giant torch. Suddenly a soft crack of leaves made his senses snap. He turned around quickly, raising his gun only to find a rifle pointing directly at his face.

"Leon?" a familiar voice whispered.

The blonde could not say how relieved he was to hear that voice again. He lowered his gun and watched Claire do the same with her rifle. Thanks to the light coming from the burning town, he was able to see the woman. Besides looking exhausted and quite beaten up with her thorn clothes and scratches, she looked alright.

"Claire, thank god. I found you," he said, relieved.

"Likewise," she answered.

Claire let out a relieved sigh, and he saw her lose her balance and stumble down. Leon made a quick spin and caught her before the woman could hit the ground.

"Hey, easy. What's wrong?"Leon asked with worry.

"Sorry about that," she replied, "I think I might have a mild concussion. I already had one when I woke up, but I think the explosion just made it worse. I'll be fine. We need to take cover, Leon. There were some nasty monsters back there, and honestly, I don't know if I blew them up, but I don't want to be around to find out."

Leon nodded. He trusted Claire's judgment, and if she thought the monsters were no good news, he believed her. Claire was in no condition for a fight, so the wisest decision was to avoid conflict for the time being. They needed a place to hide and rest a little.

"Can you walk?"

"I can manage, I think," she replied.

Claire pushed herself up with Leon's help, but her legs gave up almost immediately. The adrenaline rush she'd used earlier was fading away, and the rebound effect in combination with the concussion was hitting her hard. Leon was surprised that the woman was still awake.

"You don't look like you can..."

"Jelly legs had never been an issue before."

Leon sighed. He put his gun back in his holster and knelt in front of her, offering her his back.

"Hop on," Leon said.

"What?"

"You can't walk, and it will be much faster this way."

Claire wanted to argue, but despite her broken pride, she knew Leon was right. She could barely stand, and that would only be a nuisance in battle. Without complaints, the woman climbed on Leon's back.

Leon immediately noted how light she was. Was she even eating at all?

"You can take my gun, and you're in charge of hostile control. How's your aim?"

"As good as it can be, I suppose."

"You'll be in charge of snipping then."

"I can do that."

Claire let out a weak chuckle. He was glad that the woman was still good enough to have some sense of humor.

Finding refuge was going to be a challenging task, especially when they didn't know the area, but Leon was not going to give so easily. Claire needed a safe place to recover, and nothing would stop him from finding one. It took him several minutes and some perfectly executed headshots from Claire to find a small abandoned cottage that was barely visible amidst the vegetation. It wasn't the most luxurious refuge; in fact, it was pretty wretched, but it would serve its purpose as a suitable hiding spot.

He made sure it was clear of unfriendly visitors before letting Claire down. The woman thanked him and settled in a corner with her back against the wall and rubbing her temper.

"Let me look at that," he said, approaching her.

Leon wasn't a medic, and his knowledge of wounds and injuries didn't reach beyond the standard first-aid procedures, but he could at least try.

"Be my guest," she replied, letting the blonde look at her.

She had a large lump on the back of her head, and there were traces of dried blood behind her ears and neck. He didn't see any open wounds, but that only made him worry that damage had been more internal. Concussions could be tricky.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Honest answer? Like shit," Claire snorted weakly, making Leon smirk. It'd been long since he had dealt with Claire's singular sense of humor.

"I am serious," he insisted. "You had a severe blow on your head, and I want to be sure there is no internal damage."

"That's going to be tough without a tomography unless you have some fancy instrument in your pockets, Mr. Super agent."

Leon snorted.

"I assume it isn't too bad if you can still talk like that."

"I am fine," Claire sighed. "I am a little dizzy, my vision is blurry, and I feel like I might throw up at any time. I also feel drained, and I can assure you that a hot bath would be nice, but you know, I'm not complaining. I am still alive.

"Well, I suppose you sound ok; I'll check again later, though."

"Be my guest, Leon," she sighed, "I am a little confused right now. Would you mind telling me what happened? How's that you ended up here, too?"

"Well, I was supposed to rescue you," he snorted, "but things didn't go quite as planned. Chris is probably pissed at me now."

"Don't mind about Chris. He's pissed most of the time for no reason. He will live through it as long as we make it out alive."

"Yeah. Something is jamming my signal. I can't contact Hunnigan or any of the other services, so I have no idea where we are."

"Germany. Bavaria, most likely."

"Huh?" Leon asked, surprised, "How do you know that?"

Claire dug inside her pocket and pulled out a piece of cloth. She unfolded it to show him its contents, and Leon saw a small branch.

"Sorbus pseudothuringiaca," she said. "It's endemic to Bavaria. I found a lot of it in the forest while I was looking for the town."

Claire always found ways to impress him.

"I didn't know you had a nag for botany."

"It isn't my forte," Claire said, folding the cloth again and putting it away, "but I am still a biologist."

"So we are in Germany," Leon sighed, "shit. That was a long trip."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, "now we are trapped in a forest infested by murderous monsters. How fun, huh?"

"Don't worry. I am sure we can handle that."

"You don't say," Claire nodded, massaging her neck, "I probably hold the record for waking up in the worst possible places."

Leon did not reply. He had heard of Claire's misadventures with B.O.W.s, mostly from reports. They rarely touched the subject in their occasional calls. He knew the woman had gotten involved in a couple of cases lately, one in a soviet island and another one on an island in South America. The reports on both were vague, but he remembered reading Claire's name among the survivors.

"You're still as tough as you've always been, huh?"

"I don't know," Claire sighed, "Maybe I'm getting old for this."

"Hey, if you're getting old, what about Chris and me?" he chuckled.

"Ah, right. I didn't mean it like that, sorry. My concussion is making me say nonsense."

"Don't worry about it. You need to rest. Maybe you should sleep a little. I can stand guard."

"Yeah..." Claire agreed, closing her eyes. "Sleeping sounds nice. Wake me up for a switch."

Leon watched Claire drift into sleep after some brief seconds. Her head tilted aside, and he caught her before she slid to the ground. The man placed her head on his lap carefully and watched her. She had to be exhausted, and he could not blame her. He didn't know how long she'd been running around, fighting hostiles, and escaping while dealing with the side effects of a concussion. She was admirable, and she deserved the rest.

He watched Claire's sleeping face, and he suddenly remembered their time in Racoon City. Eighteen years had passed since the incident; back then, both had been rookies in zombie fighting, and now they were among the veterans. Leon had become one of the DSO best agents, and Claire had not only survived multiple altercations with crazy scientists, but she had become the leader of a movement working to counter terrorist advances.

Leon smiled to himself. Claire had changed since the last time they met. She was no longer the girl he met in Raccoon. She was more mature and serene now. Then again, she wasn't the only one who had changed. All of them had, and all of them had chosen their way to fight against bioterrorism. Claire, however, had chosen a path that was very different from the one Chris and himself had taken. She was a fighter, but from another kind.

"What the hell does Neo-Umbrella want with you, Claire?" he sighed, brushing a hair strand away from her face.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! http://discord.gg/wr48UmENbx

#resident evil #fanfic #my fanfic writing #Cleon #leon x claire #claire redfield #claire x leon #leon s kennedy

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death-himself · 4 years ago

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I don't know if you do prompts, but if you do, I was wondering if you'd ever consider adding a part in the Bogeyman!Virgil verse where the family has a fight.

Kids at that age are so temperamental, and they say things they don't mean to their family when they're so young, expressing hatred a lot. It's bound to happen, and siblings especially fight so often.

I could imagine one of the kids screaming at Virgil that he's a monster, not their real brother, that they hate him, that they hope they never see him again. It's pretty standard for a child, but I doubt Virgil would know that, and with his past of being unloved, I could see him immediately being heartbroken and devastated.

Love your work!

Sorry it took so long to get to this anon! The one-shot I wrote for this one actually ended up being like twice as long as usual :) I can imagine all of the kids, especially Roman or Patton getting upset with him pretty easily. And maybe this would also work for Thomas, I mean a single father of four kids would probably end up getting mad at them and hurting their feelings unintentionally every once in a while.

Anyway here’s the fic, I added Remus and Emile in just because (warnings for angst, fear, and Roman being an asshole at the beginning)

It was an accident. He didn’t mean to break it. He would’ve never broken one of their toys on purpose. He stared blankly at Roman’s plastic sword, the blade bent at a very noticeable angle. Roman’s eyes widened as he gazed at the damage, snatching the sword from Virgil’s hands to get a closer look. His eyes filled with tears instantly, big drops falling onto his broken weapon.

Virgil bit at his lip, guilt filling his stomach as he crouched down in front of him. He put a hand on Roman’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “I’m sorry Ro, I didn’t mean—” Roman shoved his hand away with a whimper, smacking him as hard as he could with his sword. Virgil flinched, despite the kid’s blow not causing him any pain. “I’m sorry, okay? We can get you a new one.”

“No! I liked this one!”

“Well...then maybe we could—”

“No!” Roman shrieked. “Go away! I hate you!” Virgil’s heart sunk into his stomach.

“Y-You don’t mean that Ro.” Virgil tried to put his hand back on Roman’s shoulder, but only got another smack from his toy sword.

“My sword was broken by a meanie monster.” Roman muttered angrily. As he stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, Virgil stayed crouched, watching him leave with glazed over eyes. It had been so long since he had been called a monster, he had forgotten how much it stung. And now it hurt much, much more.

He took a shaky breath, gaze shifting to the ground. Roman did tell him to go away...

Okay. He’ll go away.

Thomas had heard Roman screaming and ran to the stairs, just in time to see the kid in question storming down with tearful eyes, and Virgil melting into the shadows and leaving. In Roman’s hands was his favorite toy sword, now bent beyond usable. “Oh Roman, what happened?”

“Virgil broke it! He’s a big meanie!” Thomas glanced up the stairs, where Virgil had disappeared. Not hearing Patton talking to him in the living room or Logan asking him questions in Virgil’s room meant he probably wasn’t anywhere in the house. Of course of all the sons to disappear after an emotional outburst it just had to be the one who could teleport.

“Were you two playing and it broke, or was he mad and broke it?”

“We were playing, and he was holdin’ it, and then he smacked it against the wall and it broke!”

“Do you think he meant to break it?” Roman huffed, wiping at his eyes before crossing his arms.

“...No, but he still broke it.” A bit of relief filled Thomas at that, but he would never tell Roman. Son or not, he wasn’t sure if we would know how to calm down an angry bogeyman that intentionally breaks his adopted brother’s toys.

“Do you know where Virgil went?” Roman blinked, the question breaking him out of his anger for a moment. He looked back up the stairs, eyes glancing around for a moment, surprised at Virgil’s absence, before huffing and turning back around.

“...No, but good riddance! He broke my sword!” Thomas took a deep breath. Okay, so Virgil could be anywhere. Now he just had to hope he was somewhere with a stable connection; maybe he could call him. If not, he might’ve just lost a son. His heart began to pound at that, but he hid his worry before Roman could see.

Right, he had to deal with Roman first. He slowly took the broken sword from Roman’s hands, rubbing gentle circles into his back. “I’ll see if I can fix this. If it can bend without breaking, I might be able to bend it back. Why don’t you watch some cartoons with Patton while I give that a try?”

“But what if you end up breaking it more?”

“Then I can get you a new one. We might even be able to get you a new one today if you want.”

Roman whimpered. “But I like mine.”

“I know you do, bud. But sometimes...things break and have to be replaced. Nothing lasts forever.” Thomas glanced up the stairs, hoping to see Virgil returning. Still missing. “I’ll need you to apologize to Virgil later, okay? You said a lot of mean things to him, and probably made him feel really bad. And he’ll have to apologize for breaking your toy. Sound good?”

Roman was still clearly upset, but he nodded anyway, staring down at his feet as he thought. Thomas ushered him into the living room to distract him with the TV, then sent a text to Virgil’s phone, hoping he would get it.

Virgil had gone back to his cave. After officially moving in with his dad and brothers, he had expected to never want to—or feel the need to—come back here. But it was just as cold as he remembered. He sat with his back against the wall, staring through unfocused eyes as the shadows on the other side of the cave seemed to taunt him.

Maybe they were. Maybe they were thinking “what an idiot, caring for humans. It’d never work out in the end. Something always goes wrong.” At least that was what he was thinking. He knew how quickly humans could turn on other humans, it would make sense for them to turn on him much quicker.

His body was still weighed down by guilt. He broke Roman’s favorite toy, of course he would be mad. Virgil knew if one of them had broken something of his, he would probably be pretty upset. His words still rang in his ears, though.

He’d stay in the cave until things might have settled down. Then maybe he’d go back and talk to Dad.

Virgil was gone for two days by the time Roman felt just as much guilt and fear as the bogeyman himself was feeling. Thomas was trying his best to stay calm, knowing Virgil was fully capable of taking care of himself, but that fatherly panic was beginning to take over.

Virgil had told him about the cave he used to live in, and Thomas assumed that he had gone to stay there. But he had no clue where it was. As far as he knew, Virgil could be in some sort of Floridian cave less than a mile away or a cave all the way in Australia. He kept texting and calling in hopes that he would answer, but the chances of him having wi-fi in a cave was slim to nil.

He told Remus about Virgil’s disappearance, hoping that the only other person with demon children would know where his cave was. What he got as his answer was Remus putting him on hold for a whole hour, then coming back to say a terrifyingly serious “I’m on the case” before being hung up on. Whatever Remus was up to only made him more worried.

Virgil hadn’t expected to start his third day in his cave being tackled by two other bogeymen. He let out a startled curse as the two slammed into him and shoved him into the shadows, taking him with them back to their home. He growled, glaring at the two kids and preparing to fight back, before realizing where he was.

Remus bopped his head with a rolled-up newspaper, Emile grinning eagerly behind him. “Hey there Vee!” Virgil sighed, his heart rate beginning to drop back to normal.

“Hey...”

“Uncle Thomas has been real worried about you.” Remus spoke, looking the newspaper over in his hands as if it were a weapon.

“He has?” Virgil tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

“Well fuckin’ duh! He wouldn’t have called me of all people if he wasn’t!”

“Did he ask you to get your kids to kidnap me?”

“No, that was my idea.” Emile responded happily, bringing Virgil over to the couch and giving him a cup of hot chocolate. “I thought it’d be funny. Sorry if it scared you.”

“It’s fine, I guess.” Virgil watched as Janus stuck his tongue out at him, a grin on his face as he ran off down to his bedroom, Remy following soon after. Remus kicked his feet up on the coffee table, looking at him expectantly.

“So you gonna teleport back home, or do ya want one of us to drive you there like a human?” Virgil couldn’t answer. It was nice to hear that Dad was worried, but he was more concerned about how Roman felt. Emile seemed to sense his unease, ruffling his hair a bit.

“Thomas told us what happened, and Roman’s really sorry. This sort of thing just sort of happens with kids. Kids as old as your brothers get upset really easily and say things they don’t mean.” A warm smile spread across his face, slowing Virgil’s skipping heart and steadying his constantly anxious mind.

“Roman doesn’t actually hate you, especially not because of just one mess-up. Kids’ brains aren’t exactly developed enough to properly respond to things that upset them, anyway, so this is pretty normal.” Virgil nodded slowly, staring down at the hot chocolate in his hands.

Remus giggled excitedly, saying in the most affectionate voice Virgil had ever heard “I bet you could destroy the world with those smarts, Lilo and Switch.” Emile’s cheeks turned red, and his smile was redirected at his boyfriend.

“It’s just basic developmental psychology, nothing but fifteen minutes of googling will tell you this much.” Remus just hummed happily. Emile turned his attention back to Virgil. “So what do you say? You wanna go back now, or wait a bit?” Virgil pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He did miss the house...and his room...and his family.

He sighed, his anxiety failing as he placed down the cup of hot chocolate, stood up, and without another word dropped into the shadows.

Virgil appeared in his room, relieved (and for whatever reason a bit upset) that no one was there. He gulped, debating whether it would be more awkward to walk out and find the others or just wait there until someone comes in. But Dad decided that for him, singing a song from a musical he hadn’t shown Virgil yet as he went about cleaning the house.

Dad stared up at him, expression blank as his brain tried to figure out what was going on. The memory of their first time seeing each other face-to-face played in Virgil’s head—and wow, he looked just as confused as he did back then.

The lightbulb went off in his brain and his eyes widened, dropping his cleaning supplies and pulling him into a hug, letting out a relieved, almost delirious laugh. “Oh thank goodness you’re okay!” Warmth filled Virgil’s heart as he hugged back as best he could, his arms pinned to his sides by Dad’s tight grip. “You were at your cave, right? I really need to figure out where that place is.”

“Janus and Remy know, Emile sent them to kidnap me and bring me to their place.”

Dad pulled away, eyes wide. “They kidnapped—” He stumbled over his words, sounding both alarmed and confused, before going silent. “You know what, I’m not even surprised.”

“Yeah, those guys are weird.”

“How did those kids know where the cave was, though?” Virgil shrugged.

“I think all three of us were formed there, they just never actually lived there. That’s my best guess at least.”

“Well...I’m just glad they found you. We’ve all been really worried.” Virgil heard four small feet running up the stairs and over to his door, two faces peering in. Smiles spread across Logan and Patton’s faces as they practically tackled Virgil to the ground, clinging onto him as if he’d disappear if they let go. Virgil hugged them back, just happy to see them again.

Then he heard another pair of feet run up the stairs, and Roman appeared in the doorway. Virgil gave him an uneasy smile. “I’m...sorry for breaking your toy, Ro, I didn’t mean—”

Roman’s lip began to quiver and tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran to hug Virgil, clinging on tightly as he babbled out apologies until his words were completely unintelligible. Virgil awkwardly hushed him, running a hand through his hair as his incoherent babbling began to die down. “It’s fine, Ro, I’m okay.”

“It’s not fine!” Roman whined. “You disappeared for two days and I was really mean to you and I thought you’d never come back and I’m sorry!” Virgil looked to Dad, hoping he would be able to help. Dad came over and gently shushed Roman, saying “Virgil’s here now, he’s not gonna leave, we’re all gonna be okay, bud.”

Roman slowly calmed down, tears no longer falling from his eyes and breathing beginning to steady. Dad asked Logan and Patton to go back downstairs while he talked with Roman and Virgil. He had to make sure his two oldest kids would be okay.

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tempesrature · 4 years ago

Text

IDOL | Chapter 5 [Unfinished]

Platinum x Ride or Die (AU) Crossover

Pairings: (Major) Ride or Die | Logan x Ellie (Minor) Platinum | M!Raleigh x Cadence Warnings: PG13+ Word Count: 11k+ A/N: I can’t even begin to apologize that I’m leaving this story unfinished. I tried to finish it, I really did but school is just so heavy right now that I barely have time to do anything else. And as I’ve said, the passion isn’t there anymore. I’ll post up to whatever I’ve written and if given the time, I’ll definitely come back to finish it. If you decide to drop this story, I completely understand. I’m sorry that I let you down :( @troublemakerinspace @raleiighcarrera @harrys-wheezys @raleeeighcarreras

“Wow, when you said you’d pick me up I thought you meant your manager was going to drive us.”

“The option was definitely there,” Logan grins as he pushes himself off of the yellow and black-striped 2005 Devore GT to stand in front of her. “But I thought it would be nice if I drive.”

Ellie chuckles as she makes her way to the passenger’s door and takes her seat just as Logan slides into the driver’s seat.

“Are you a good driver?” Ellie asks teasingly as she buckles her seatbelt. “If I get into a car accident and Mona finds out, she’ll call the ambulance and tell it to turn around.”

“I’m a great driver,” Logan chuckles as he revs the engine and he pulls out into the road. “Do you trust me?”

Ellie blinks at him for a moment before a smile tugs on her lips. “Weirdly enough, yes.”

The smile on Logan’s face strums the little tiny strings of her heart. It’s absurd how good he looks behind the wheel. If he was handsome during the any normal setting, it’s magnified by tenfold at how easy and comfortable he is as he drives. She tries not to stare at him, telling herself that she has set ground rules for how she’ll interact with Logan, but she seems to be breaking them every minute she’s in his presence.

“As an honored guest of the Devore, you have the privilege of picking the song.”

Ellie chuckles as she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her playlist. “Do you treat every passenger like this?”

“Only the pretty ones,” He glances at her with a devilish smile and a small wink.

She ducks her head to hide away the blush before her eyes light up at the instrumental track of Candy. She had asked Micah to send it to her so she could practice a little on her own before promotions truly start and they’ll have to start appearing on TV to sing it. She clicks on the song and the intro of the synth fills the car and a smile pulls on Logan’s lips.

“Logan, let’s do it live.”

“Huh?”

Logan barely has time to register her words when she starts to sing the intro of the song as she dances and does small body rolls in time with the beat. Logan lets out a laugh and he glances at her in amusement as he listens to her and waits for his cue.

Their voices fill the inside of the car—teasing, playful, flirty—and Ellie feels light and free. She’s never had this before, someone she can sing along with without the pressure of hitting the right note or conveying the right emotions. Even when she’s singing with Raleigh or Cadence, there’s always a certain standard she has to hold herself around them. After all, her voice croaking in front of those two would send her into a spiral of embarrassment.

But she doesn’t have the same worry with Logan.

Cadence had told her of this feeling—the feeling of being able to sing with someone that you’re so in tune with that it feels natural when there’s only you, the other person and the music. Cadence said that she has that with Raleigh.

And now…Ellie can admit a little that she just might have it with Logan.

The fourth verse comes in and he glances at her briefly, their gaze locking, and she grins as they sing out the next lines together in a perfect blend of light and husky.

I say, I want to be clear and simple I want to adjust just for you, oh yeah I'll give you something original I know how complicated you are

Logan attempts the sustained high note in the bridge and Ellie rolls her eyes because of course he still has excellent breathing control and can let out a perfect G#4 note even while seating down. At this point, Ellie feels like there’s nothing this guy can’t do.

The song finally finishes the last of its note and the playlist jumps to the next song on her list, a slow and soothing song from Cadence’s new album. A comfortable silence settles between them and Ellie is once again amazed that even in the silence, it doesn’t feel awkward or stifled.

“I’m probably the luckiest fan in the world,” Logan says as he turns into an intersection. “I get to hear you sing live with only me as the audience.”

Ellie smiles. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m pretty lucky to hear you sing live as well. You have a great voice.”

“Thanks,” He chuckles a little as he stops at a red light. “I’m really glad that I got to do this collab with you Ellie.”

“Me too,” She leans back and lays her head on the window. “Which reminds me. I never got to ask. Why the sudden genre shift? The song’s great but it’s not your usual release.”

Logan nods with a small smile, a look of apprehension crossing his face in a blink of a second.

“I really don’t like my songs. I just got roped into singing it because it sells,” He takes one hand off of wheel and gestures to himself. “Along with the whole heartbroken bad boy image.”

Ellie nods and looks at him sadly. It’s not that uncommon for companies to completely have control over an artists sound and image. It’s usually for younger and newer artists where they have no power to truly choose what they want to do with their music. She was lucky than when she started out, she had Raleigh and Cadence backing her so whatever musical direction she was going to venture into was going to be supported by two music industry giants. But for artists like Logan? They’re perpetually bound to whatever their producers want for them until they can somehow break out of the image without alienating their current fans. Fortunately for Logan, their collab single ‘Candy’ is a big hit. Maybe this will even open up the path for him to finally sing songs he actually likes.

“Are you saying that you’ve never had your heart broken then?” She teases. “Is that why you can’t fully commit to the heartbroken bad boy image?”

“Maybe I’m the one that breaks hearts,” Logan says, his voice almost pained, before the light turns green and he drives. “Or maybe I just don’t like the bad boy title.”

Ellie chuckles a little. “Yeah it’s pretty outdated. Plus, if you can’t hold yourself to the same standard as Raleigh Carrera then why even try?”

“What? Property damage and grand theft auto?” He smirks. “I could totally do that.”

“Hey! The courts cleared that up, the car was legit,” She laughs and leans back on the seat. “It created a shitstorm in the company though and any car he wants to buy has to go through the suits now. Cadence was not happy.”

“I’ll bet,” Logan snickers as he pulls up to the restaurant he had recommended to Ellie the night before. “Cadence seems like she doesn’t take any of Raleigh’s shit.”

“You have no idea,” Ellie chuckles as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. “But I guess that’s what makes them work.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins as he opens the glass door for her.

“Yeah,” She looks around the restaurant and sees that it’s practically empty except for them. “Uh…you sure this place is open?”

“Yeah it’s owned by—Vaughn!” Logan turns to walk to Vaughn coming out of the kitchen and gives him a hug.

“Logan!” Vaughn exclaims as he returns Logan’s hug and looks over to where Ellie is standing. “Woah, you brought your girlfriend? I thought you were bringing Ellie over.”

Ellie tries to rein in the blush on her cheeks but fails miserably as Logan stands next to her.

“This is Ellie,” He turns to look at her with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him, he’s clueless when it comes to anything other than cooking.”

Ellie smiles as she steps forward and offers her hand. “Nice to meet you Vaughn. Are you Logan’s friend?”

“Cousin more like it,” Logan corrects with a fond smile.

“We ain’t actually related. But we’re family. Known each other for a long time,” Vaughn replies as he motions to the empty restaurant. “Pick a seat! I’ll have the specials right out.”

Logan turns to look at Ellie expectantly as he points to the table hidden away from the glass windows. They take their seats across each other and Ellie is only now realizing how much all of this feels like a date. She banishes those thoughts as quickly as they came, this is just a casual hanging out with a potential friend and co-worker. That’s all there is.

“So, do you always clear out restaurants when you bring girls out for lunch?”

Ellie cringes at herself and groans internally. She was thinking it of course but she didn’t expect herself to outright say it.

“Not often,” Logan replies with a smile. “This place is pretty popular. I had to ask some serious favors from Vaughn so we could have it for ourselves today.”

Ellie smiles a little. “You didn’t have to, you know. I would’ve been fine either way.”

“I was thinking that a thousand pair of eyes constantly glancing at you while you eat would be uncomfortable.”

Ellie chuckles as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “You overestimate how much I get recognized in public. People rarely ever notice.”

“Liar,” Logan grins. “I would’ve noticed you from a thousand miles away.”

Ellie grimaces a little as she looks at him teasingly. “Not to be rude but are you always this…flirty?”

Logan laughs as he looks at her face earnestly. “Can’t help myself I guess.”

Ellie rolls her eyes a little. Perhaps that’s why it’s so difficult for her to stick to the rules and guidelines she’s set up for Logan when he seems to be so adept at making her break them.

The ping of Logan’s phone cuts through the silence and he grabs it from the table, astonishment and awe taking hold of his face.

“Woah,” Logan says as he turns his phone to her. “Looks like Candy has 80 million views on PlayMe now.”

“Seriously?!” Ellie exclaims as she takes his phone and stares at the number below the video. “This is insane.”

“Yeah I didn’t think it would be this popular…” Logan says in awe before his face softens.

“I did,” Ellie grins as she hands him his phone back. “And not just because of me by the way. The song is really great Logan. You should write your own stuff more often.”

“After this, maybe I’ll finally be able to,” Logan looks at her gratefully. “Thanks Ellie. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

“No problem. I really meant what I said back then. About how I can help you out and be your friend. If you ever need help just hit me up and—” Ellie’s eyes flick to the ringing of her phone and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she sees Mona’s name flashing on the screen. She had already informed Mona that she’ll be taking the day off so this call must be important. “Sorry it’s my manager. I’ll be quick.”

Logan nods. “Take your time.”

Ellie nods as she grabs her phone and moves a little ways away from their table before she takes the call.

“Mona hi, what’s up?”

“Are you with Logan?”

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and absolute fear. She hadn’t said anything about why she wanted a day off. Was Mona just this good? Was someone tailing her?

“Uh…yes,” She replies as she looks around the restaurant in apprehension in case she’ll see Mona suddenly pop out of nowhere. “But its just lunch I swear! And we’re both sober and we’ll stay sober. I’m not up to trouble—”

“I don’t care about that, put me on loud speaker. I need to talk to you both and make sure you’re alone.”

“To us…both?” Ellie asks as she confusingly makes her way back to the table. Logan looks at her with a question in his eyes just as she takes her seat again. Ellie shrugs before she pulls the phone away from her ear, puts in on loud speaker and places it in the middle of the table. “You’re on loud speaker Mona.”

“Good. Logan, can you hear me?”

“Uh yeah I can,” Logan looks to Ellie for answers but Ellie merely shakes her head signaling that she doesn’t know either. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ll cut right to the chase. With how popular Candy’s release is, the company has approved the music video. We’ll start production in two weeks.”

“Seriously?!” Ellie exclaims as she shares an excited and happy look with Logan. “That’s great news Mona!”

“Yeah and one more thing. We need you both in a fake relationship to drum up the release of the music video. I already went through this with your manager Logan. He should be calling you about this soon.”

“Woah wait,” Logan looks at Ellie’s phone apprehensively before he glances at Ellie. “Fake relationship? This isn’t. I mean I wasn’t—”

“Mona you know how I feel about fake relationships,” Ellie cuts in, annoyance lacing her voice. “Why can’t we just promote the song the normal way?”

“This isn’t just about the song Ellie, it’s to clean up your image as well. Everyone loves you with Logan, he’ll basically become your Cadence.”

Ellie frowns.

“If Ellie isn’t comfortable with this then I won’t do it,” Logan replies sternly.

“Fine then, you both have until the end of the day to give me your final decision,” Mona pauses for a moment before her voice drops down to something soft and caring. “This is good for you Ellie. I wouldn’t have suggested this unless I knew it was going to work. Have I ever led you wrong?”

Mona doesn’t afford Ellie the time to reply as she drops the call. Ellie lets out a heavy sigh and takes the phone and shoves it into her pocket, hoping that she won’t have any more calls to ruin her day.

“Shit. This is fucked up,” Logan says as anger and annoyance takes hold of his voice.

“Yeah but not uncommon,” She sighs and leans back on her seat as she thinks about it.

When Cadence revealed to her that the first time Raleigh and her started to date was actually just a fake relationship, she had vowed herself to never take that route. Mainly because she wanted to spare herself from the drama of being in a fake relationship with someone she had no feelings for. Pretending to kiss and fawn over a guy she’ll barely talk to outside of a few convincing texts to screenshot and post on Twitter to parade their relationship around like a prized horse.

She wants to be authentically herself because she owes it to the fans that love and support her.

“What do you think Logan?”

“I mean what I said Ellie,” Logan says as he leans forward a little and gazes into her eyes. “If you don’t want this then I don’t want this.”

A small smile tugs on her lips. “So if I was okay with this…you’d do it?”

Logan chuckles a little. “I mean…would any fan pass up the opportunity to fake date their idol?”

Ellie laughs a little as she takes the table napkin in her hands and twists it around nervously. She weighs her options. Mona wasn’t lying about the image clean up. It’s no doubt that once her new album drops in the coming months, it’ll be used to comb through all of her relationships in the past. So much of the songs she plans to record in the album revolves around heartbreak and recovering from that heartbreak that she knows full well that her critics will unfairly attach a guy to every track in that album. If she gets into a fake relationship with Logan and they “break up” amicably, then all of it will just bounce back to Logan alone. Maybe they could even spin the story so that she’s the dumpee which would then earn her sympathy and support for getting dumped by a truly great guy.

Plus, if she’s being honest with herself, it’ll give her a test run on the tiny crush she has on him without all the pesky strings of getting attached in a real relationship.

It’s all just positives at this point so how could she say no?

“Okay, I’ve made up my mind,” She glances up at Logan shyly before she steels her confidence and clears her throat. “So uh Logan, will you be my very first fake boyfriend?”

The way his eyes sparkle and the way the smile stretches on his lips makes Ellie momentarily forget how to breathe.

“I’ll make you so happy Ellie,” He promises, more truthfully than he had initially intended before he reaches forward and offers his hand. “It’ll be an honor to have you as my first fake girlfriend.”

Ellie laughs a little as she takes his hand, his palms warm against hers, and shakes on the deal just as Vaughn comes arrives with his specialties and sets it the down on the table with a big grin before he goes back into the kitchen.

“Okay, so how did it happen?”

Logan looks at her curiously just as he’s about to take a bite from his burger. “How did what happen?”

“I mean how did we start dating? Why did we start dating?”

He blinks at her, confusion clear on his face. “Because you like me and I like you back?”

“Not good enough,” Ellie says as she takes a bite from chicken sandwich. “It has to be authentic and it has to be meaningful.”

Logan chuckles a little nervously, not really expecting her to be this thorough about the whole thing. After all, he was just planning to post a Pictagram post about it and leave it at that.

“Love at first sight then?”

Ellie coughs and thumps her chest as she looks at him in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s so cliché!”

“It’s plausible,” He smiles and looks at her pointedly as Ellie rolls her eyes.

“How about this. We hung out a lot after the recording, we talked and realized that we had a lot in common and we ended up liking each other.”

“Why is this so important?” Logan frowns as he throws a French fry into his mouth. “Why is it anyone’s business how we got together? Isn’t it enough that we’re dating?”

Ellie scoffs as she takes a sip of her glass of water. “You’ve clearly never been in a fake relationship before.”

“Neither have you,” Logan replies as he playfully bumps her knee under the table.

“Yeah but I got references,” She grins as she raises her phone and waves it a little. “People always love the backstory and we’ll probably get asked about it a lot so it’s better to get our stories straight to really sell it.”

“Right…speaking of selling it, is kissing allowed?” Logan asks cheekily. “What are my boundaries? What are the things I can and can’t do?”

Ellie chuckles a little. “Kissing should be allowed in public. I mean, how else would we make it convincing? Hugging and touching is fine too—as long as it’s in public.”

“Got it,” Logan smiles.

“How about you? What are my boundaries?”

Logan tilts his head to the side with a playful smile. “No food in the Devore?”

Ellie laughs. “Is that all? You’re easy to please.”

“I’m a simple guy I guess,” Logan hands her some tissues when some of the sauce clings to the side of her lips. “We should probably also lay out all of our bad habits while we’re at it. Get it all out in the air so we don’t annoy each other.”

Ellie nods. “You’re right. I’ll go first. I’m cranky during mornings and I hate food that feels mushy no matter how good it tastes.”

“Hmm…” Logan perches his elbow on the table and leans his cheek on his closed hand. “No one drives the Devore but me and I’m really particular about my hair products.”

“You should tell me what you use in your hair. I don’t know how you got it to be so soft,” An embarrassed flush takes hold of her cheeks when she realizes that she just brought up the night she had undoubtedly buried her fingers in his hair.

“I could take you out shopping,” Logan offers with a knowing smile. “Part of the fake boyfriend experience.”

“And I’ll make sure to drag you around multiple stores,” Ellie smiles teasingly. “Part of the fake girlfriend experience.”

Logan pretends to groan as he tilts his head back. “I feel like I’m getting the short end of this deal.”

“Hey!” She bumps her knee against his underneath the table. “You get to fake date the Ellie Wheeler, not many can say they had the privilege.”

“You’re right,” Logan answers honestly, his eyes gazing into hers. “I’m really lucky.”

Ellie smiles softly as a bubble of worry start to form itself in her stomach. “Do you think…we’ll be fine? I mean, nothing bad is gonna happen right?”

“What’s the worse that could happen?” Logan asks with a shrug as he leans back on his chair. “We get along and we make great music together. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Ellie nods a little, her fears disappearing with his words. With how crazy her life has been in the past few months, this could very well be the first break she’ll get since the Colt scandal. In theory, nothing bad should happen if she just keeps her crush as just a crush and cruise through the next few months until their eventual breakup.

Everything is going to be great.

~*~

“I’m calling Mona right now.”

“Babe, come on. This is Ellie’s decision—”

“Shut up Raleigh,” Cadence leaves it at that as she moves to the kitchen of their penthouse and starts a heated discussion with Mona.

Ellie looks towards Cadence direction a little guiltily. After she had lunch with Logan and after ironing out the last of the details for their fake relationship, she decided to drop by Cadence and Raleigh’s penthouse so she could give them the news herself rather than the subtle and suggestive Pictagram posts they’ll both be dropping within the week.

Raleigh sighs and runs his hand through his brown and messy hair before he looks at Ellie sitting on their plush couch. “So how long is this going to go on?”

“About three months or so,” Ellie says as she takes some of the candy they usually leave out on their coffee table. “Until I’m almost finished with my album I think. Mona still hasn’t told me the specifics.”

“Hmm…” Raleigh acknowledges as he observes her quietly. “Want some advice?”

“Uh, I didn’t know you’d have some Raleigh, you did say I should fake date him to promote the song,” Ellie grins as Raleigh glares at her lightly. “But alright, give it to me.”

“Take it from someone who got fucked up from a fake relationship,” He motions his head towards the kitchen. “If you have even the slightest feelings for him, don’t do it or you’re going to end up hurting yourself.”

Ellie frowns. “But you two worked out though…”

“Yeah but the shit we went through?” Raleigh sighs as he shakes his head, his voice a little pained. “I had to watch her get dragged by the media and I couldn’t do or say shit because we “broke up”, then I had to pretend like I was over her and pretend like I didn’t give a shit when I saw her kiss another guy. Even if it was a fake rel. That shit messes with your head, you know?”

Ellie nods sadly. “I won’t develop feelings for Logan. I promise.”

“Good, keep it that way,” Raleigh shrugs before the familiar playful and teasing smile makes its way to his lips. “But if you start to feel like it’s there, it’s a good indication that its time to bounce.”

Ellie grins just as Cadence makes her way back into the living room with a huff and deep furrow on her eyebrows.

“I talked to Mona.”

“Sounds more like it was yelling babe.”

Raleigh merely smiles at the glare Cadence sends his way before she sits next to Ellie and takes Ellie’s hands into hers.

“I understand why you did this. I’m not going to say it’s easy but if this is what you really want then I won’t stop you. Just…be careful okay?”

“Yeah and have fun!” Raleigh says as he reaches out to the bowl of candy and throws it towards Ellie who clumsily catches it. “I’ve met Logan, he’s a nice guy.”

“Aren’t they all?” Cadence sighs as she leans back on the couch. “I’m not saying that it won’t be fun. Sure, it will be but it’s also going to difficult when the real and fake just…blur together and that’s when it starts to get less fun.”

“When did it start to blur for you Cadence?” Ellie asks innocently as Raleigh’s eyes sparkle in absolute delight as he leans forward and looks at his fiancée with curiosity and affection.

“Yeah Cadence when did it start to blur for you?”

Cadence rolls her eyes as a small smile tugs her lips. “The charity function when we sneaked away.”

“Ah,” Raleigh leans back with a fond smile. “That’s a good one.”

Ellie’s eyes bounce between them and she already knows that she’s effectively been shut out. Not that she minds, she’s practically used to the two of them so attached and magnetized to each other that it’s not uncommon for her to feel like the perpetual third-wheel.

“Right, I’m going home guys,” Ellie announces as she stands from the couch and unconsciously pockets the candy Raleigh had thrown to her. “I still have songs to write.”

“Keep up us updated!” Cadence calls out as Ellie makes her way to the penthouse elevator. “About the album and Logan!”

“Always,” Ellie calls out just as the elevator doors close in front of her. She sighs and leans back on the elevator and lets her mind wander. It’s not like she didn’t have her apprehensions, after all she’s well aware of the things she could be risking if she ends up falling for Logan.

But a part of her is undoubtedly curious. What kind of boyfriend would Logan be? Would he be just as cheesy and flirty or would she see a different side to him? Would she be able to pull some inspiration from their fake relationship for her album?

The last question makes her flush a little as she gets into the cab and makes her way back to her penthouse. It wouldn’t be weird for her to write a song about Logan, after all an artist is supposed to get inspiration from the influence and their environment right? It would be weirder if she didn’t have any songs about Logan on her album if they plan to fake date for three months or so.

Ellie doesn’t have time to fully delve into those thoughts when she reaches the building her penthouse and she hurriedly makes her way to her floor. She goes through the motions of putting away her keys and flicking on the lights before she makes her way to her bedroom and flops down on the mattress.

She takes a minute to stare at the nonsense patterns of her ceiling before she reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone when her hands close in on a small round object. She pulls it out and looks at the red candy with confusion before she realizes that it’s from Raleigh and Cadence’s place.

An idea suddenly hits as she quickly scrambles to sit up on the bed and takes out her phone. She tears open the wrapper and presses the candy on her lips. She turns the camera of her phone to her before she snaps twenty or so pictures before settles on one and places a filter to make it look a little bit aesthetically pleasing. A wide smile takes hold of her lips as she pulls up her Pictagram account and posts the picture with the caption:

Boy I’m your candy. Tell me what you’re waiting for.

It’s subtle and suggestive, just like they agreed on, after all it’s just part of the lyrics for their single ‘Candy’ and people could even say that Ellie is simply promoting the song—but with no link to the actual single nor the usual words of “stream Candy” attached anywhere, the comments that rush in quickly figure out what she’s hinting on.

I knew it! I fucking knew it! This is folks, this is the sign we needed that they’re dating. Oh my god I’m so happy but I’m so sad?? But I’m so happy too omg If she breaks his heart, I’m gonna kill her. I heard that there’s gonna be an MV dropping. Will we get a kiss scene???

Ellie laughs a little as she lays back down on the bed and continues to scroll through the comments that come in. She skips through the hate comments, already immune to them at this point, and focuses on the love and support of their “relationship”. She feels a little tinge of guilt that she’s fooling her fans like this but at the end of the day, it’s her life and she’s allowed to live it according to how she wants to.

A notification pops up in her screen and her heart races when she sees that Logan has posted something. She navigates to his page and when the picture loads, the little squeal of delight she lets out is both embarrassing and well-earned.

The picture is a shirtless selfie of Logan with a piece of candy trapped tantalizingly between his teeth as he looks into the camera with playful smile and sparkling brown eyes. The caption at the bottom reading:

Girl I’m your candy. All I want is you my love.

It’s far from the “subtle” that they had agreed on but it’s not like she dislikes it. In fact, it puts a silly smile on her face that she can’t wipe away. Now, she’s wondering if this truly is his first fake relationship because he just seems too good at it.

Ellie goes to look at the picture again, carefully trying to commit to memory everything about it, before she closes her phone and tosses it next to her. She knows that tomorrow, every celebrity gossip blog is going to start writing articles about their Pictagram posts and she’ll feel the full effects of their fake relationship once dawn breaks.

But for now, she allows herself to get lost in her thoughts and lets the exhaustion of the day pull her to sleep. Because tomorrow, she’ll be going through an experience she’s never had before.

An experience that, that she hopes, will bring more good than bad.

~*~

“Helloooo? Earth to Ellie?” Ingrid huffs as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Look if you’re too busy to hang out with me and get pics for my Pictagram, we can always reschedule.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Ellie replies sheepishly as she places her phone on the table. “My bad Ingrid, what were you saying?”

“I was saying,” Ingrid says as she gestures her hand to Ellie, her sparkly pink nails glinting under the florescent lights of the café. “What’s up with you and Logan?”

“Nothing’s up.”

Ellie’s phone pings with a new message and Ingrid narrows her eyes suspiciously as she leans in and swipes Ellie’s phone from the table. Ellie scrambles to get it back but Ingrid is too quick and she’s already inputting Ellie’s password and seeing the new message.

“Still up for date night, El?” Ingrid reads in delight and shock before she turns to Ellie with a dramatic gasp. “Ellie Wheeler you’re dating Logan and you didn’t tell me? What, are we not friends anymore or something?”

“Shh!” Ellie moves across the table between them and grabs her phone as she nervously looks around the semi-crowded space of the café. “And he’s exaggerating. It’s not date night, we’re just watching a movie.”

“Yeah because that’s soooo not a date,” Ingrid rolls her eyes as she picks up her cup of tea and takes a sip. “Whatever. I’m happy for you, he’s definitely an upgrade from all the assholes you’ve dated in the past.”

“I told you we’re not dating,” Ellie says as she takes a peek at her phone and almost melts a little at the list of movies he’s already curated for them to watch later tonight. “At least not officially, not until we announce it in three days.”

“Announce? Officially?” Ingrid narrows her eyes at Ellie before she lowers her voice. “So it’s a fake rel?”

“Yeah,” Ellie picks one of the movies from his list and sends him a quick message. “It’s just that—fake. So we aren’t actually dating.”

“Then what’s with his Picta posts?” Ingrid pulls out her own phone and navigates to Logan’s page. “In the past week he’s either posting about his car, his upcoming album or cryptic posts about you. I mean look at this,” Ingrid clicks on a picture and turns the phone to Ellie. “It’s a picture of him in a field of flowers. The caption literally has the lyrics to your song. Dude sounds like his halfway in love already!”

Ellie blushes a little as she looks at the picture Ingrid’s showing her. She really does love that photo, it’s probably one of her favorite ones his posted. In the past few weeks, they’ve both been trying to be “subtle” about slowly enticing the public with their supposed relationship but Ellie has gradually learned that there is nothing subtle about Logan. All of his posts leave no room for speculation or doubt while she tries her best to be subtle when she posted a picture of her wearing a yellow and black dress.

“He’s just really good at the whole fake dating I guess,” Ellie shrugs as her phone pings with another new message from Logan. She glances at her phone and a small smile tugs on her lips when she sees his message.

Nice, I wanted to watch that one. Your place or mine?

Yours, she replies with a small smile.

Ingrid frowns. “I feel like a third wheel and he’s not even here.”

“Okay, phone down now. Let’s take the picture because I need to go and finish up one more song for my album.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes as she motions with her fingers for Ellie to come closer so they can take the picture together over their array of untouched desserts on the table. Ellie smiles prettily, the kind of smile she’ll only ever use when she’s taking pictures to be posted, as Ingrid tilts her head down a little and pouts her lips a little.

After twenty or thirty pictures with different angles, Ingrid is finally satisfied and flicks through the pictures before she finally settles on one.

“What should the caption be?” Ingrid says as her nails tap on screen. “Girls day out? One in a Million reunion?” Ingrid looks up from her phone and frowns when she sees Ellie grinning at her phone before Ingrid sneakily takes a candid photo. “When your friend can’t get off of her phone because she can’t stop talking to her fake boyfriend?”

Ellie glances up at Ingrid with a small frown. “One in a Million reunion sounds better.”

“You think?” Ingrid scoffs as she types out the phrase and posts it first. She then pulls up the candid photo she took of Ellie, writes down a caption and posts it. She leans back and observes Ellie and waits patiently for her response.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows before she looks up at Ingrid with blank face. “Really Ingrid?”

“It’s not a lie,” Ingrid smirks knowingly.

Ellie sighs as she reads the caption again under her picture.

Guess what’s making El smile so much? Hint: it’s a date.

Ingrid is right at least, it’s not a lie that she’s genuinely excited for her not-a-date with Logan. In the past week or so, they’ve gotten closer. A lot closer than she’d expect them to be and she’s starting to see how…charming, caring and genuinely nice Logan can be. It has come to the point where they’ve been talking late into the night until she’s basically fallen asleep on the phone.

And that terrifies her. Ellie doesn’t want to admit it but the feelings she’s starting to catch from him are starting to spiral into a dangerous territory and if she was smarter, a little more cautious, she’d cut her losses and ask for this fake relationship to be cancelled and, as Raleigh advised, bounce.

But she doesn’t want to. Not when she really likes the feeling of being able to unironically say that the Logan is her boyfriend.

“Anyway, I need to go,” Ellie pockets her phone and stands up from the chair. “Let’s meet up again next week if you’re free.”

“Sure,” Ingrid waves her way and flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “But next time actually pay attention to me, okay?”

“Roger that,” Ellie grins as she places her sunglasses, makes her way to the door and out of the café.

~*~

The ping of Logan’s phone sounds loud in the empty space of his makeshift studio in his apartment. He looks at it curiously before he moves the guitar to the side and reaches for the black device. A wide smile pulls on his lips when he sees the picture of Ellie grinning at her phone, his eyes flit to the caption below the picture and the smile on his face starts to physically hurt his cheeks.

He goes to message Ellie, his fingers typing out his thoughts before he can stop them.

I’m excited too troublemaker. He pauses, deletes the message and tries again.

You look cute in the picture. He pauses again and decides fuck it—he’ll send both.

I’m excited too troublemaker, you look cute in the picture.

He waits with anticipation when he sees the three dots appear and disappear. When he reads her message, he’s sent into a fit of laughter as he lays down on the carpeted floor and holds his phone inches from his face.

Oh my god shut up. She follows up the reply with a cute sticker of a tiny bunny character repeatedly thumping on the chest of a taller bunny.

He grins lazily as he types out his next message. Are you bringing snacks?

Better, I made something.

Logan raises a curious eyebrow. He can confidently call himself an Ellie fan and he, embarrassingly, knows a lot about her. Her knowing how to cook though, somehow, escaped his radar.

Didn’t know you could cook. Are you any good?

The reply is instant, almost as if she already knew that he would ask that question.

Of course I am. Don’t you trust me?

I do. Because strangely enough, he really does. Careful troublemaker, you know what they say about a way to a man’s heart.

Logan, I don’t need to be good at cooking to get through your heart.

Logan’s eyes widen, his heart picking up in speed, and he’s finding it a little difficult to come up with a reply. But his few seconds of silence must’ve set her in a panic when she hurriedly follows it up with another message.

I mean, I’m already your fake girlfriend, right?

Right, he replies before he gathers what little is left of his self-control to finish his message. I’ll see you later El. I gotta finish up the last song before you come.

Okay, see you later!

Logan lets out a heavy sigh and drops his phone on his chest and lays his forearm across his eyes. His mind swims and he can’t stop himself from finally admitting that he has the biggest crush on Ellie Wheeler.

And it’s not just a fan-crush either but a real, tangible, heart-stopping crush.

Not that this is a recent development or anything, he’s noticed that in the past few days—he’s finding it increasingly difficult when he’s nowhere near his phone. Even when he’s recording the newer songs he wrote for his album that finally got approved (due to Candy’s success), he always goes to his phone after each session so he can reply to whatever message she’s left for him.

That’s never happened to him.

Whenever Logan gets himself involved with a girl, he’s usually fine if they don’t talk for a couple days. Hell, he even prefers it since he values his solitude. But with Ellie, it feels as if he’s going to miss out on something important if he doesn’t reply to her messages or talk to her at the end of the day.

It’s a terrifying feeling for him. They haven’t even properly stared to fake date and he’s already catching this pesky crush that he can’t seem to shake out. And Logan knows himself well. No matter how hard he’s going to try to mask it, it’s going to be obvious on his face when the Paps take their pictures.

He sighs and pushes himself off of the floor and grabs his guitar. He’s been having trouble with composing his last song for the album since he’s been instructed to make it the kind of heartbroken love-pining that he’s known for—except make it R&B pop. He was excited at first, finally being able to blend what he’s known for and what he loves to create, but these days he just can’t seem to write down a single word or strum out a single note.

The subject is about heartbreak after all but all he’s been feeling is flutters of butterflies in the past few days.

He strums out the first few notes and looks to his notebook to test out the words he’s able to somehow to write down.

“Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that moment,” Logan pauses, reaches out to crush out a word, and he tries again. “Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that—time? Fuck!”

Logan places his guitar down and weaves his hand through his hair in frustration. He’s well aware that if he doesn’t finish this song within the month, it’s going to get handed to ghost writers. He’s also scarcely aware how important this album is. If the reception is good, he’ll be able to continue to release songs that he’ll actually love to sing on stage for once. No more grumpy producers telling him to cry in the booth and no more forced interviews where he has to pretend that the song is about a girl who broke his heart once.

It’s finally going to be only him, his music and his own art.

The distant and muted sound of his apartment buzzer reaches his ears and at first, he’s a little annoyed that someone’s here to interrupt his session but the annoyance is immediately wiped away when he remembers that it’s most likely Ellie.

He pushes himself off of the floor and takes quick and long steps towards the front door and yanks it open. He can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when he sees her standing in front of him with a light peach sundress and a Tupperware of something in her arms.

“Hey, I’m here for movie night.”

“Date night you mean,” He corrects with a grin before he moves to the side and motions for her to enter the apartment. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure you already know where everything is.”

Ellie rolls her eyes with a smile before she makes her way to his kitchen. “How’s the song going?”

“Awful. I’ve got a mental block I can’t get over,” Logan sighs as he leans on the doorframe of the kitchen and observes her quietly as she pulls out plate and puts it on the counter. “Anyway, what did you make?”

“Cookies!” She smiles with pride as she tilts the Tupperware full of cookies to him before she starts to place them on the plate. “I hope you like peanut butter cookies.”

“I love them,” If Logan is being honest with himself, his feelings towards any flavor of cookie is about average. He neither likes them nor hates them but if Ellie is the one that made them, somehow he can find himself to love them. He walks to the counter and plucks one cookie from the plate and takes a bite. His eyes widen a little as the flavor hits his tongue. “Damn, these are good.”

“Told you I’m good,” Ellie beams with pride as she takes the plate and motions towards the living room. “Also, what’s blocking you from the song?”

“You” is what he’d like to say but he’s not sure if he can survive to the aftermath of that conversation. So he shrugs and follows behind her as they make their way to the living room.

“Don’t know, guess it’s just one of those days.”

“Want me to help?” Ellie abruptly stops walking and turns around, almost sending Logan crashing into her. “I also want to bounce off some lyrics with you for a song I’m working on.”

Logan thinks for a moment at the proposition. If he’s being honest, he’d rather not revisit the song until he’s let it sleep for a few days. But he does want to hear the new song she’s working on and there is one song he’s been meaning to let her listen to.

“I have a better idea. I have this song I want to run by you, get your feel for it.”

Ellie’s eyes light up as she looks around a little to try and locate the direction of his studio. “Raincheck on movie night then?”

“Sure,” Logan chuckles softly as he points to the door down the hall. “Bring the cookies though, something to keep our brain going.”

Ellie nods as she walks towards the door he points to and enters his studio. It’s a lot smaller than the one in her penthouse but it’s enough provide a good space for creating music. She places the plate of cookies on the table before she sits on the carpeted floor, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone from her purse so she can find the instrumentals for the song.

Logan chuckles as he takes sits next to her. “I was going to offer you a chair.”

“No way, I think better when I’m sitting on the floor.”

Logan smiles softly, the little string of his heart tugging at the thought that it’s the same for him too.

“Okay here are the instrumentals,” Ellie starts, her voice serious, commanding and—for Logan—extremely sexy. “I’ve got the chorus down and the bridge but the first verse still sounds clunky.”

“Sing it for me.”

Ellie nods as she presses play, latches on to the lyrics on her phone and starts the song with a few adlibs of soft and raspy ohs.

When I see you, I feel a sense of familiarity After a moment of thinking, I approached you Besides us, everything else has vanished Please trust this experience Match my tempo babe

She finishes and looks at Logan expectantly but he only looks back at her with awe.

“I still can’t get over how good your voice sounds,” He chuckles softly when Ellie glares at him slightly. “Hand me the lyrics.”

Ellie hands him the phone. He rewinds the song a couple of times and mumbles through the lyrics a little before his eyes catch on to the part where it feels a little clunky.

“Here, this part sounds a little off the beat,” Logan moves her phone closer to her, his shoulders touching hers. “Maybe something with one more syllable to hit the last note?”

“Hmm��” Ellie takes her phone and hums through the lyrics, her eyes intensely trained on the words, as Logan observes her with a soft smile. “How about this? Please trust this moment to me.”

“Sing it for me.”

Ellie nods and she gets through the first part quickly before she slows down at the end of the first verse and sings the new lyrics.

Besides us, everything else has vanished Please trust this moment to me Match my tempo babe

“That’s it,” Logan says as he unconsciously moves closer to her, his face so close he can see the light peach blush on her cheeks. “Sounds like a hit already.”

She turns to him with a smile but quickly looks away when she realizes how close their faces are. She distracts herself by typing in the new lyrics to the song. She goes through the entire song again a couple of times, just to make sure that there’s nothing else he needs to comment on, before she’s finally satisfied with the results.

“Okay, I’m done with mine. Let me hear yours.”

Logan chuckles softly as he pushes himself off of the floor and moves to the keyboard in the corner of the room. He takes a seat just as Ellie follows him and stands behind him. Logan looks over his shoulder at her with a smile before he pats the space next to him.

Just as she takes a seat, his fingers fly over the keys and the soft and slow start of the song fills the studio. Although the actual song will have more layers to it, this is the best he can do for now. He drops his voice down a little as he tries to achieve the emotions he’s wanted to inject into this song the moment he composed it—sultry and enticing.

It’s a little stuffy when I make eye contact with you I’d like to dive deep into your eyes I’d like to look into them but I can’t If your fingers touch me, I feel like I’m losing my mind.

He goes through the first verse with ease, the emotions in his heart easily flowing out and mixing with the beat and lyrics of the song and he’s terrified of how easily all these emotions come to him when he’s singing for her.

He glances at her knowingly as he reaches to the second verse, the lyrics of the song starting to jump out of the page and into what little space is left between them.

I think I’m drunk Try mixing in another blue sapphire Let me know if there’s an island for me in your sea It’s like I’ll explode The blue spreads through all of me. You can fall for me, if you want.

He reaches the bridge and belts out a sustained high note and finishes the song with a few adlibs of ohs and lets the last of the note ring out in the studio.

“Wow,” Ellie says as she looks up at him with wonder and awe. “That’s an amazing song Logan. I feel like I already have a favorite song from your album.”

Logan grins as he gazes into her eyes. “No changes then?”

“None. Absolutely none,” Ellie unconsciously plays with the edge of her dress. “You should sing for me more often. I like being your only audience.”

Logan laughs a little, his body unconsciously moving closer to hers. “Does this mean you’re now a Logan fan?”

“Release the full album first,” She replies teasingly as she tilts her head to him. “I’ll decide then.”

“Ellie…” Logan whispers softly, his brown eyes searching hers, as he starts to move lean forward but he catches himself—his brain catching up to his erratic heart. He pulls away abruptly and tries to internally shake away the haze that she’s brought on him. Anymore than this and he’ll be helplessly falling into her arms. “Anyway, it’s getting late, don’t you think? Don’t want Mona to chew your ass out.”

“Oh,” Ellie says, the disappointment clear in her voice, before she turns to look at the clock on the wall and is shocked that two hours had run by without her knowledge. “You’re right, I should go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Logan stands from the chair and grabs the plate from the table. “I’ll pack this up too.”

“You can keep it, it was supposed to be our snacks anyway,” She chuckles as she makes her way out of the studio.

Logan follows dutifully behind her as they walk down the hallway and reach his front door.

“Thanks for helping me with the song Logan. Too bad I can’t give you the credits for it.”

Logan grins as he reaches over and opens the door for her. “Make it up to me by giving me a signed album.”

“Careful, that’s how other artists end up taking advantage of you,” Ellie warns with a playful smile before she steps out of the door and looks at him a little apprehensively. “Our fake relationship is going to start in three days. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Logan says honestly, maybe even a little excitedly. “I doubt anyone’s going to be surprised though.”

“That’s your fault, I told you to be subtle,” Ellie chuckles softly before she turns to leave. She looks over her shoulder and gives him a small smile. “Goodnight Logan.”

“Goodnight Ellie. Message me when you get home.”

Elli gives him a small wave goodbye and watches her carefully to make sure she gets to the elevators without the any problems. When the elevator closes, he closes the front door and presses his forehead against the wooden surface. He squeezes his eyes shut and runs through everything that happened so far.

He groans a little when he realizes how close he was to kissing her after he finished singing his song. If he was a weaker man, he would’ve done it. But she already set her boundaries. No kissing, hugging or touching—unless it’s in public. And he’s going to keep that promise.

Although, embarrassingly, he’s already running through the best date spots for their first official date as a fake couple.

A date, he’s hoping, will end with a kiss.

~*~

“Ellie! Come here!”

Ellie turns to look at the director in her chair as the make-up artist continues to touch up her make up for the music video shoot.

“Coming!” Ellie replies as she stands from the chair and smooths out the orange and black jacket she’s wearing before she makes her way to the director.

Once she reaches him, he gives a quick rundown of the scene needed for the shoot. She follows him around the set, an explosion of yellow, pastel neon and soft orange lights and décor that mimics old 90s arcades, as he points out the different places she’ll be shooting her solo scenes. One where she’ll be inside a tube like structure, another is in front of a makeshift brick wall and the last one is a raised platform with fairy lights dotted in the background and foreground.

“We’ll shoot your parts first then we move on to Logan’s,” The director motions to where Logan is sitting in his chair having his final run through from the assistant director for his own scenes. “The props should be in the tube.”

Ellie’s eyes light up when she turns to look at the tube structure and sure enough, there on the bottom is where a myriad of different shaped and colored candies in aesthetically pleasing glass jars wait for her. It’s already pretty rare for her to eat anything too heavy days before a music video shooting so having the opportunity to eat on the actual shooting is a blessing she’ll never have again. Unless she titles all of her songs to something food-related.

“Can I eat it?” Ellie asks as she crawls into the center of the tube, takes the glass jars and puts it on her lap as she takes a seat. She twists open the lid and takes out a blue dice-shaped candy and holds it up to the light.

The director laughs. “Just try not to eat all of it. We start in five everyone!”

“You okay over here?”

Ellie looks up and smiles when she sees Logan approaching her in a red and white hoodie, his white pants hugging is legs in the most distracting of ways. He reaches the tube structure and takes a seat on the entrance of the tube.

“Good, you?”

Logan smiles as he motions to run his hand through his hair before he stops himself when he remembers that his hairstylist has already spent hours on his hair.

“Ready to eat something, I’m hungry.”

Ellie grins as she offers him the candy she’s holding. “Want a bite then?”

Logan raises an eyebrow before he leans forward and takes the candy between his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as his lips touch the tips of her fingers.

Ellie is immensely thankful to her makeup artist for making her makeup just a little thicker today so it can survive the harsh lights. It turns out it has a dual purpose today—survive the lights and hide away the blush on her cheeks.

“Delicious,” Logan comments with a cheeky smile as he runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Save some for me later.”

Ellie doesn’t have time to reply, not that she had any coherent words to reply with, when the director calls out for the first take. Logan stands from where he’s sitting and gives her a little thumbs up before he walks out of the frame of shoot.

Ellie takes a minute to get her beating heart to settle before she turns to the camera, her demeanor already changing, as she hears Candy playing in the background.

“And action!”

~*~

“Good job Ellie, let’s take a five minute break and reset,” The director calls out as Ellie hops off of the platform.

Just as she’s about to go back to her seat somewhere behind the cameras, Logan intercepts her and offers her a water bottle. She smiles gratefully and drinks almost half of the bottle. Maybe being under the lights and nibbling on candy for forty minutes made her more dehydrated than she thought.

“Want me to get you another one?” Logan chuckles as she shakes her head no.

“I’m good for now,” Ellie twists the bottle cap close and hands it back to him. “Ready for our shoot?”

“Yeah,” Logan’s eyes flit to somewhere over her shoulder and he moves to her side, wraps an arm around her waist and guides her away a little. “Careful, there’s a camera behind you.”

“Huh? Oh thanks,” Ellie looks behind her just as she sees the huge black device hovering near where she had been standing. A memory comes to her and she laughs a little. “Ever hit your head on this?”

Logan winces at the thought and shakes his head no.

“I did, when I was shooting Easy,” Ellie chuckles as she unconsciously leans into him, his hand warming up the skin on her waist. “Just as I was really feeling the music, I turn to the side and bam! The makeup team had to do some magic to hide the red bump here.”

Ellie points to her right temple and Logan snickers as he gazes into her eyes with a soft smile, giving her waist a reassuring small squeeze. “I’ll make sure we won’t get a repeat of that then.”

“Then you’re doing a fantastic job so far,” Ellie moves closer to him, the space between them nonexistent, and somewhere in the back of her mind—she’s aware that she shouldn’t be this close to him even if everyone knows that they’re “dating”.

“Logan and Ellie! Let’s start,” The directors voice booms around the space of the studio and the spell they’ve trapped themselves in breaks. Ellie is the first to move a little away from his hold and Logan, reluctantly, lets his arm fall away from her waist. When he’s no longer in her space, he can already feel the rush of cold air that envelopes him.

“Make sure you don’t get left behind,” Ellie comments as she looks up at him with a teasing smile.

Logan smiles and puts his hands in his pockets, the fire in her eyes both inspiring and addicting.

“Never troublemaker.”

~*~

Ellie takes a sip from her glass of wine, her back against the headboard of her bed, as she crosses her ankles and goes through the selection of movies on her TV for her next movie to watch. After the music video shoot that ran for close to three hours, she was finally able to relax for the rest of the day and she’s been spending it catching up on movies she’s wanted to watch for awhile. Although she wanted to hang out with Logan after the shoot, he had to quickly get to an interview with a popular podcast channel on PlayMe.

After she picks one from the thriller category, she blindly pats around for her phone on the bed. She goes through her Pictagram account and lazily scrolls through her timeline as the opening scene of the movie fills the silence of her bedroom. Since they’ve announced their relationship (with a cringy couples pose pic that had them laughing and wheezing the first few takes), most of her timeline has been full of their fans congratulating them and making compilation videos of whatever little interaction they had shown in public. Ellie doesn’t want to admit it out loud but she really does enjoy seeing people so happily supporting the both of them. In her past relationships, most of her fans and friends disapproved of her choice (with good reason too) but with Logan, all she’s getting is love and support.

It’s painful for her to admit it but Logan is just that good of a guy and he really is the Cadence to Ellie.

Ellie frowns a little at the idea that she’s the Raleigh of their relationship.

!!!!!!!! El, watch this!

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow a little when she sees PlayMe link that Riya, her closest friend even before she became an artist, has sent her. She pauses the movie and places her glass of wine on her nightstand when she sees the thumbnail of the video. She can already tell that it’s Logan sitting in a podcast room and if she isn’t mistaken, it’s probably the interview he had to quickly run to after their shooting.

You sure this is all fake?

Ellie’s eyes widen a Riya’s message before she quickly locates her earphones, plugs it in and plays the video. It starts off innocently enough, just going through Logan’s music history and talking about his most popular songs. Then it delves into Candy and, naturally, to her.

“So, Candy and Ellie. What’s that like?”

Logan chuckles a little, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Which one do you want me to talk about? Depending on how much time we have left, I don’t think we can get to both.”

The hosts laughs. “Ellie of course!”

“Yeah Ellie!” His co-host chimes in. “What’s it like working with her?”

“Amazing,” Logan grins as he leans back on his seat. “She’s passionate about her work. She doesn’t take any of my crap either.”

“And you guys are dating now! What’s that like?”

“It’s…” Logan pauses a little, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “Surreal you know? I mean dating your idol is probably number one on the list of things that doesn’t happen to guys like me.”

“I bet Ellie is just as lucky,” The co-host laughs.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one,” Logan’s voice drops down to something soft, something honest. “She’s sweet…way too sweet for someone like me. She knows how to have fun too and it’s never boring when I’m with her...it kinda feels like home sometimes.”

The host whistles. “Write her a song while you’re at it.”

Logan laughs. “Told you I’d only have time to talk about one.”

“If Ellie is listening in—hi Ellie!—what would you like to say to her?”

“Where’s the camera—oh there,” Logan smiles handsomely directly to the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement and affection. “Miss you already troublemaker. Let’s reschedule that date night already.”

The whole room dissolves into awws and Ellie touches her cheek, feeling the warmth of her blush heating up her palm. She doesn’t even get the time to properly process what she just saw when Riya sends her a flood of messages.

Did you see it? El tell me you’ve seen it. Was he really faking it? And why does he call you troublemaker? El!!! Reply already!!!

Calm down Riya! I just finished watching it.

Cool. Thoughts?

So many. Ellie probably has enough thoughts in her head to last her for the rest of the week. But how is she able to properly articulate all of them without giving away her crush for Logan? Nobody knows about it—not even Raleigh and Cadence, the two people she shares everything with.

I think…maybe it isn’t all fake?

I knew it! I freaking knew it! The way he looked at the camera? The things he said? Sorry but your boyfriend is hot El.

She wants to correct Riya. That Logan isn’t her boyfriend but rather her fake boyfriend but surprisingly, giddily, she doesn’t. So she immerses herself a little in the fantasy, in the belief that maybe there really is something more to them than just their fake relationship.

It won’t hurt right? After all, this is just a little crush. A feeling she won’t allow to grow into something more. After all, she promised Raleigh that it wouldn’t get to that—hell, she promised herself.

But a crush is something small and insignificant. Something she can easily overlook and abandon when things start to get sticky.

So Ellie flops down on her bed, a wide grin on her face, as she dials Riya’s number so they can properly gush over her extremely hot boyfriend and talk about all the things she’s excited to explore with her very much fake but not fake relationship with Logan.

#choices rod #choices platinum #logan x ellie #choices logan #rod logan #male raleigh x cadence #raleigh carrera #cadence dorian

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

Text

Break My Heart Right: Worth the Wait (Luba x Reader)

A/N: I was going to do more friendship, but I’m a hopeless romantic, or something. Word Count: 1853 Content Warning: Swearing, vague references to sex work, Cross-posted to AO3 Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak (let me know if you want to be added)

Luba had asked for time, and you were willing to give it, though you weren’t actually sure what it was time for. You stopped going on dates, awful or otherwise, and were surprised to find that you didn’t miss them, much preferring the nights like tonight where you stopped for takeout to bring home to your and Luba’s apartment, quietly sharing a meal together after your workday was done and before his began.

“Y/N,” he said, greeting you warmly as the door swung shut behind you. “I am so glad you’re home.”

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion as he took the food from you and set it on the counter.

“That sounds like you want something from me,” you accused, receiving an appalled gasp in response.

“I would never,” he pouted. “Although…”

You quirked an eyebrow in response to his pleading look, mossy eyes round and soft and threatening to melt you into a puddle right there on the living room floor.

“I know you just got home and you are probably exhausted buuut there’s a couple gentlemen coming in tonight who are the kind of important that got the whole place shut down exclusively for them.”

“The club or…?”

Luba shook his head. “And.”

You let out a low whistle. To have the kind of pull to get Rhonna to shut down both her businesses (“inherited” from Maksim) for a night took a lot of dough, or power. Your stomach twisted nervously, for Luba’s safety and everyone else involved’s.

“We’re supposed to pull out all the stops. So some of the girls and I were hoping...we could get a true artist to help us get ready?”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t say no to him (or to the very large stack of cash you’d get from Rhonna for your work).

“I’ll go grab my kit. You do something about dinner,” you conceded before dramatically blowing a kiss to the takeout, leaning back to keep it in your view as you headed for your room. “Farewell, sweet ramen. You would have been delicious.”

Arriving at Foreign Dreams, one of the bouncers stopped you at the door, a massive meaty hand bumping your chest as he held it out.

“Sorry, private party, no entry tonight,” he said, tone and expression indicating he didn’t care enough to actually be sorry.

Luba shot him a surprisingly venomous sneer. “They’re with me,” he snapped, “here in a professional capacity.”

To emphasize his point, you gently shook the small of the bags in your hand, brushes rattling together. The guard continued to stare, unmoved. Luba scoffed, tossing his whole head as he rolled his eyes, reaching back to grab your wrist and pull you past, with or without permission.

“Y/N!” Nyssa, one of Luba’s newer coworkers, cried, rushing over to greet you. “Oh I am so glad you came! A couple of us had a pool over whether Luba could actually convince you to. Everyone’s going to be so glad, except Tanya and Kanwal since they lost the bet. Now we can really go all out! What are you doing standing out there?”

Under the weight of Luba’s irritation and Nyssa’s incessant babbling, the bouncer relented, allowing you to pass. You muttered a sarcastic thank you as you passed him.

“Do you think you’ll have time to help all of us? There’s so much left to do. Most of us are in such an unfinished state, and Luba’s not even started!” Nyssa chattered on.

At the sound of his name, the man in question pouted, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Y/N is mine,” he said petulantly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine and you hoped neither of them noticed the way you flushed under the club’s icy blue lights.

“There’s plenty of me to go around,” you joked, trying to keep your voice light. “I’ll get you all dolled up in no time.”

“Oh I am so glad you said that!” Nyssa beamed, leading the way toward the back where everyone was getting ready.

“‘So glad!’” Luba mocked softly in your ear, breath tickling you.

You shook your head, silently laughing at him as you followed the girl in and looked for a good place to set up.

Tanya greeted you with a hug. “Did you at least make him beg?” she joked.

“Nah,” you replied, nudging her. “But only because I like all of you so much.”

You looked around the room, taking in everyone in varying degrees of undress and disarray.

“Alright, what have I got to work with?” you asked loudly, planting your hands on your hips as you called their attention.

You stood over Luba, carefully applying his signature silver-white eyelashes, one hair at a time. For all that the others liked to tease, his was actually the easiest look to perfect, and strangely soothing after rushing about for them all.

“I meant what I said, you know,” he said, almost too casually. “Unless something’s changed?”

You swallowed heavily, thankful that endless practice let you keep your hands steady.

“You know it hasn’t,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “But…”

“You’ve always been here, and I can’t imagine life without you,” he admitted softly. “I guess I just never thought about what that meant.”

“Is this really the best time to be talking about this?”

Your heart pounded rapidly as if it were trying to burst out of your chest and escape. But as much as you wanted to hear what he was saying, what it meant for you both, you didn’t want to do it while surrounded by people and trying to manage seven makeups, three body paints, and somehow more hairstyles than there were people in the room. Just as you placed his last lash, you caught sight of something that made your blood boil.

“Markus, I swear to god,” you called across the room, “if you scratch at your face and make me have to reapply those rhinestones again, I will break your fuckin’ fingers!”

The man in question dropped his hand to his side, whining that it was too itchy to resist.

“It shouldn’t itch at all,” you mused. “You might be having a reaction of some sort, I’ll be right over.”

You glanced apologetically at Luba and he made a shooing gesture with his hands. “We’ll talk later.”

You were packing up, finally done, alone in the back room, when arms wrapped around your middle. Instinctively, you jammed an elbow backward, feeling it strike followed by a pained groan. Whipping around, you found Luba, doubled over and clutching his stomach. You babbled out an apology, guiding him to sit as he struggled to regain his breath.

“Are you alright?” you asked sheepishly.

“Oh sure,” he wheezed. “Just a little damage to my pride.”

“Good. That ego needed a little paring down.”

He pouted at you. You answered the expression with a smirk before growing serious again.

“What the hell were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that? You’re lucky all my needles were already packed or you might have lost an eye!” you snapped.

“I didn’t think you’d freak out. You don’t usually complain when I hug you.”

“I usually also know you’re there. Or at least can pretty well guess from the fact that we’re at home, not in public where it could be anyone.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said apologetically. “This isn’t going well.”

Watching him reach up to run his hands through his hair and then freeze, not knowing what to do instead so that he didn’t mess up his look, you could feel the frustration radiating off him. You took his hands in your own, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m guessing ‘this’ is the conversation you were trying to have with me earlier?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at your hands, then back up at you. No matter how many times you had seen it, there was something disconcerting about his fathomless green eyes framed by those long, ethereal lashes.

“Y/N,” he breathed. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since you said you…”

“Loved you?” you finished when he seemed unable to say it.

The vulnerable, almost fearful look he gave you in response squeezed your heart. Gently, you removed one hand from his so that you could pull over a chair, sitting across from him with your knees bumping.

“Luba,” you said, twisting your hands to stroke your thumb over his knuckles. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for.”

“I...I want…” he growled, still so frustrated with himself, finally sighing. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“There isn’t a how, babe. Unfortunately. You just...say stuff, and hope it comes out right?” you grimaced.

“I need you, Y/N,” he said after a long pause. “And I don’t know what that means, but it scares me. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t promise that I’m never going to leave, or that things won’t ever change. But I’m here right now, and not planning to go anywhere. Is that...enough?”

He leaned forward, letting go of your hand to frame your face with his long, graceful fingers.

“Yes,” he murmured, moments before he pressed his lips to yours.

His mouth was soft, slightly sticky from the gloss he was wearing, and those long lashes tickled against your cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut. You weren’t sure which of you was melting more into the other’s touch as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until he perched in your lap. He nipped at your lip, tugging it gently between his teeth and you cracked your jaw with a soft moan, opening up and allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth to twine with yours. His actions had no technique to speak of, focused on emotion and connection rather than doing what was expected or “right”, even though you knew if he wanted to he could have made it a flawless one, and you thought you might explode. He slowly ran his fingers down your throat, across your collarbone, down your torso, exploring and raising a trail of fire where he passed.

All too soon for your liking, you were forced to separate as Rhonna called his name from the next room. He flushed prettily as he pulled back, staring down at you, the intensity in his eyes doing nothing to calm the heat at your core. You reached up, using the pad of your thumb to brush a smear of glitter and pinkish tint from the corner of his smirking mouth.

“We’ll pick this up at home?” he asked in a tone that you would have called shy if you didn’t know him better.

“I can’t wait,” you answered, stealing another quick kiss before letting go so he could get to work, your heart soaring as he turned back to blow you another and wink before he disappeared through the beaded curtain that marked the boundary of the semi-private space.

#I am at my Softest #probably takes place a few weeks after Give Me Time #warning: probably excessive use of italics for emphasis #also in my version of events I either killed off Maksim or at least had him get out of the biz #since Luba takes off because he's pissed about the whole 'side job' thing but that was inconvenient to my plot #and then I made up names for the rest of the employees at the club #reader's job is as a tattoo/body mod artist and body painter #because I was inspired by all the incredible and insane looks in the scene at the beginning of the movie #Luba x reader #Mute (2018) fic #Break My Heart Right

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gimmesumsuga · 6 years ago

Text

Sweeter than Sweet (82)

AO3 Link

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jimin x Yoongi, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jungkook x reader, Jin x reader.

Warnings: Angst, threat, violence and mild gore

Word count: 6.3

Previous / Next

“Sam?!” you shriek, immediately regretting your choice in both volume and pitch when your voice echoes loudly in the wide open space in which you’re held. It bounces back at you off of dirty white walls over and over and over, and you cringe with each and every echo. Given the predicament in which you've found yourself the last thing you want to do right now is draw any unwanted attention. Not until you’ve had a chance to speak to the girl sat bound to the chair beside yours, anyway.

Sam laughs through her nose; a breathy chuckle as she tosses her head back to throw her hair off of her face.

“Was wondering how long it was going to take you to wake up.” She twists her neck to face you, smiling wryly despite the way you gasp at the sight of her - at the angry red mark that stretches all the way across her left cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” you exclaim in hushed tones, “Are you ok?!” And blase as ever, Sam just shrugs her shoulders.

“Ah, I’m fine,” she says, completely dismissive of the finger marks that are lining her face. “You know I'm not exactly the type to come quietly.”

“I can imagine,” you say earnestly. Despite the seriousness of the situation, somehow the image of Sam kicking and screaming and flailing her fists still has a smile tugging at your lips, and you’d bet good money on her having given a good slap or two prior to the one she received in kind. You only wish you could’ve seen it, or that it’d proven enough to save her from being sat her next to you.

You glance around your surroundings again as Sam sighs, relieved that your earlier exclamation seems to have gone unheard.

“Who the fuck are these guys?”

“Hell if I know.” Sam shrugs again as she shifts on her seat, her wrists wriggling in their binds. They must be sore by now; your arms are beginning to ache already, bent as unnaturally as they are. “All I know is I was leaving yours and then suddenly I’m getting thrown in the back of some van, dragged in here, sat down, and told to stay put.” She laughs humourlessly, glancing down at her lap. “As if I could really go anywhere else.”

“And they haven’t said anything? Asked you anything?”

“Not a thing.” Your brows furrow in confusion, at a complete and utter loss as to why someone would go to the bother of kidnapping someone to not even make any demands. Will it be the same for you, you wonder? Or are they just biding their time?

“But why would they-” As if on cue, your words are interrupted by the metallic screech of a door opening somewhere over the other side of the room, somewhere out of sight. Heart pounding with a fresh surge of adrenaline you fall silent, and next to you, Sam does the same, quickly facing forward.

After all the surprises that you’ve faced today, you’d think you might be immune to any more than might follow. That’s not the case, though. Not when rounding the corner of a pallet of crates appears a face you recognise well - someone that if asked, you probably would’ve referred to as a friend.

“You’re awake,” Alex observes, his steps a casual saunter as he makes his way across the room with two other men in tow, all three dressed in black. “Good. I was worried that bump on the head might’ve been something more serious,” he says, though he looks anything but.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember hitting your head at all. You suppose it must’ve happened during your unexpected relocation; a reasonable explanation for the dull ache that’s been throbbing at the back of your skull ever since you opened your eyes.

He squats down in front of you, his head tilting to the side as he watches you watching him, amusement twisting his mouth.

“What’s going on?” you utter quietly, your brain struggling to come to terms with the fact your former colleague seems to have suddenly turned villain. Or so you assume.

“I guess this must all be pretty confusing, hm?”

It’s strange, really, knowing this man in front of you whilst yet not really knowing him at all. Alex’s voice is different. It’s lower. More assertive. His hair, too, has changed; the long flowing strands you’d so often seen him tucking back pulled up into a tight bun that makes the face that had once been so friendly look sharp and severe.

Alex continues to smile in the same sinister fashion, and as he reaches out to smartly tap the curl of his bent index finger to the underside of your chin, lifting your gaze, a sensation like cold water trickling down your spine makes you shudder.

“Poor little lamb,” he coos without a hint of the tenderness those words should carry. “So naive. So totally unaware of the world that lies outside your twisted little love nest.” You stare back at him blankly, gaze flicking back and forth between his crystal grey eyes in search of answers. Vaguely, you’re aware of Sam next to you telling someone to get the fuck off and the sound of her chair creaking as she thrashes with indignance.

“What do you want?” You’re pleased that you manage to keep your voice from shaking despite the anxiety that has your pressed palms sweating behind your back. Alex, however, seems disappointed by your lack of visible distress so far, sighing in what sounds like an awful lot like disappointment as he releases your chin and steps back, straightening to full height.

“To put it plainly,” he begins as he tucks one hand into his pants pocket, “I’ve got a bone to pick with your boyfriends.” With Jimin and Yoongi? Your family? What possible problem could he have with them? As far as you’re aware he’s never had anything more to do with them than brief small talk at the bar - and Yoongi isn’t exactly the chattiest of guys.

“And what’s that got to do with us?” Sam asks brusquely. You envy the way she doesn’t even flinch when Alex’s head turns sharply to fix her with a glare, clearing his throat before answering.

“Didn’t seem smart to go starting a fight on someone else’s home turf.” He turns his gaze back to you - nonchalant, casual - and the two men at his back exchange a look, smirking in a way that makes your gut roil with nerves. “What better way to lure them out than with their most prized possession, right?”

Alex smiles as realisation washes over you like an ice-cold tidal wave, dragging you under its surface and making it hard to catch your breath - to even breathe at all. You’re nothing more than bait; a worm wriggling at the end of a hook. That’s what’s going on here. He’s stolen you and brought you here to gain the advantage - to catch them panicked and off guard.

“But why ? And why’d you go dragging Sam into this?” you ask, unable to withhold the questions that are whirring round and round your brain.

“Her?” Alex scoffs with laughter as he glances at her, dismissive. “A case of mistaken identity, I’m afraid. An unfortunate mistake.” One of his lackeys shifts uncomfortably at the dirty look that’s thrown his way, averting his gaze as Sam bristles with indignation next to you. Anyone would think she’s taken insult at not being deemed worthy enough to steal.

“Then can’t you just let her go?” you plead, unconcerned with however your desperate you must look as you lean forward in your chair, pain shooting down each of your arms as they’re stretched even further. Alex is quick to rebuff you, shaking his head as he scratches at the stubble across his jaw, an expensive looking watch revealed as his sleeve pulls back.

“Don’t think so, not now. Two birds, one stone. Extra motivation and all that.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Plus she’s really made a nuisance of herself while she’s been here. Thanks to her, several of my guys barely have their balls intact.”

You hear Sam snicker and a glance to your left reveals just how pleased she looks with herself, smiling so hard she risks re-opening the split at the corner of her mouth.

“As for why?” Alex begins, “That goes back a little ways.”

“Ugh, here comes the monologue...” Sam grumbles, her words going either unheard or ignoring as he continues to speak over the top of her.

“See, when we were hired to take out your two pretty boys we were vastly underprepared. And yeah, ok, we managed to get some good shots in - do our fair share of damage - but it was nothing compared to what they did to us.” Alex fixes you in his gaze, eyes narrowing as he takes a step forward and leans in. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to recruit people in our line of work? Guys who’ve actually got a brain cell to go along with all the muscles?”

Unnerved by his close proximity, you lean back slightly into the wooden slats of the chair, swallowing thickly.

“And then when that Namjoon guy left, holy fuck, it got even worse!” he exclaims, making you jump when he suddenly slaps his knees and stands up straight, throwing his hands in the air. A quick look to your left shows Sam to be just as full of trepidation as you are, her throat bobbing as she wets her lips. “Your guys start working with the feds and now I can’t get shit done. They're bad for business, and it's about time someone put them down."

Movement captures your focus, and out of the corner of your eye, you note one of the men turning away from the group for a second or two as Alex continues to speak. The slender man raises a phone to his ear, murmuring too quietly for you to have a hope of hearing what’s being said.

"Besides, this is a public service we’re providing.” You quickly look away as the man finishes his phone call and turns back to the group, moving in close to Alex’s side. “I doubt the locals would be too happy if they knew their nice little town was infested with vampires ,” he spits the word like a slur, grimacing in distaste, and it’s only when his subordinate leans in to speak directly into his ear that Alex pauses his tirade, listening in intently.

Bad guys momentarily distracted, you glance at Sam, sure that your expression must be an almost perfect reflection of hers. Tense. Frightened. She mouths at you ‘what do we do?’ and you hate that all you can do is shrug in reply, as at a loss for what to do next as she is.

All you can hope is that if and when you surrogate family come and rescue you, they’ll realise this for the trap that it is and be adequately prepared. Surely you and Sam should be safe until then - if you’re the bait it makes no sense to harm you, right? At least… not in any significant way.

“Speak of the devil.” You jump in your seat as Alex suddenly claps his hands together, and when your head snaps back round to face him the smile you find waiting for you is one that’s entirely unsettling; wide as the jaws of a shark and with just as many teeth. Too busy enjoying the rapid darting of your eyes and nervous wetting of your lips, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he orders his men to ‘bring him in’ - a sentiment relayed via another short phone call by the man who originally passed on the message.

It takes a conscious effort to try and slow your breathing in the seconds that follow; soon light-headed from your panic-stricken panting. You desperately try to look past your captors towards the back of the room, unsure of who it is you’re even hoping to see. Is it Jimin? Is it Yoongi? Either way, the fact that Alex’s men seem to have already captured them can’t be a positive thing regardless of your longing to see a friendly face.

God, please let them be ok. Please let them be alright.

You hear heavy doors opening and slamming shut in a great jarring clash of metal, the room falling silent save the echoing footsteps that follow thereafter. Alongside each clean footfall, there’s an accompanying shuffle as though someone is dragging their feet - or rather, being dragged along - and the sense of unease in your stomach continues to grow with each pace that they draw nearer, ever closer to rounding the corner where you’ll finally be able to see.

Half pushed and half pulled into your line of sight, you softly utter his name as Namjoon comes into view. Flanked on either side, there’s a barrel of a gun pressed solidly into his ribs as he staggers forward in their grasp, growling deep when the shorter, unarmed man shoves into him from behind.

“Namjoon!” There’s no warmth in Alex’s greeting, no friendliness to be found in the smirk that twists his mouth as Namjoon is pushed to his knees in front of you all, thudding into the concrete. “Nice of you to join us.” The vampire totally ignores your presence, his focus solely on Alex as he lifts his head and fixes the man towering over him in an unforgiving stare.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Namjoon’s reply is delivered through tightly gritted teeth, and his jaw clenches as his captor decides to nestle his gun right at the base of his neck, directly against his spine. “Obviously.” Alex chuckles, his head tilting to the side.

“I’m little surprised to see you,” he admits, and honestly Alex couldn’t have hit the nail better on the head if he’d have tried.

‘Surprise’ is a little bit of an understatement for how you’re feeling. Of all the vampires that could’ve appeared through that door, Namjoon was the last you’d have expected, and now he’s here in front of you, you can’t quite distinguish whether or not you’re glad about it. In the time in which you’ve known him, Namjoon’s been the root of your fears more often than the remedy. In fact, if anyone had asked you prior to him being knelt at your feet, you might’ve ventured a guess that he’d been involved in this plot too; one of Alex’s co-conspirators. It feels a little disconcerting, then, when you realise that instead of fright, it’s a sense of relief his appearance brings. Perhaps if he knows where you are then the others might, too.

Better the devil you know, right?

“I thought you were smarter than this,” Alex smirks, “Showing up here on your own. No backup, no plan.” He reaches out and takes hold of Namjoon’s sharp jawline, delight shining in his eyes as he inspects the vampire’s shabby appearance. “Looking like shit.”

You’re surprised Namjoon manages to restrain himself from biting Alex’s hand clean off with the way he’s glaring up at him, chest heaving with rage. It’s not even as though he’s restrained, and though you know Alex and his men will have no doubt armed themselves with silver in preparation for this, it still strikes you just how sure of himself the young man must be to risk manhandling Namjoon the way he is.

The vampire isn’t exactly putting up a fight, after all, so you can’t blame Alex being a tad over-confident. From the look of his clothes and the way he tripped and stumbled in, the untrained observer could be forgiven for thinking that Namjoon looks sickly - weak - but you know him better than to be so easily fooled.

Though his outward appearance may look worn, there’s a stark difference in Namjoon’s complexion now compared to the last time you saw him. Some of the colour has returned to his face, no longer so sunken or sallow, and where once before his eyes were flat and lifeless now they seem to shine with a fire that has your pulse thundering with anticipation of what he might do next. Like the master of deception he is, Namjoon is lulling them into a false sense of security. You’re sure of it.

A low, warning growl rumbles from his chest as he yanks his chin free of Alex’s grip, visibly seething as the human laughs and shakes his head in response, completely unphased.

“I guess even vampires aren’t immune when it comes to love’s foolishness, hm?” he goads, glancing at you with a fiendish grin, and for the first time since he entered the room, Namjoon’s gaze follows, meeting yours. It’s only for the most fleeting of moments but even that brief eye contact has you feeling as though you need to catch your breath, so full of complicated emotion that your lungs feel as though they’re full to the brim with it.

You can't deny the hate you feel for the awful things he's done, still frightened by his visage however grateful you might be to see it. He must’ve continued watching you after your encounter at the bar to know that you were in trouble, a thought that certainly doesn’t sit well with you at all, but... he’s still here. He came for you - put himself at risk - and you suppose that must count for something, regardless of whatever twisted reasoning might be behind it.

Alex approaches you; his slow, purposeful steps providing the distraction required to recapture Namjoon's attention and pull it away from you. Sharp, golden eyes narrow as he watches the young man close in on you, Namjoon's sharp jaw clenching.

"To have so many of them wrapped around your little finger," Alex muses softly, reaching out to you. Long fingers trace your cheek, your jaw, unfamiliar in their warmth, and you can hear a growl rumbling in Namjoon's chest so quiet it almost sounds like a cat's purr.

Without warning, Alex's thumb pushes past your lips and presses down against your tongue, roughly wrenching your jaw open despite your nonsensical squawks of protest and the thrashing of your head.

"This mouth must really be something special, huh?"

"Don't touch her!" Sam yells from beside you, her struggles rattling her chair as a scuffle simultaneously breaks out; Namjoon quickly forced back down to his knees by the hands of four men as he'd attempted to lunge, snarling and gnashing his teeth.

"Fuck you," Namjoon spits out as Alex laughs, amused by the display. He doesn't let up on the pressure against your tongue, tears of panic welling in your eyes as you struggle not to drool. "I should've killed you when I had the chance."

"You're right," Alex agrees. He pushes his thumb far enough back into your mouth to stimulate your gag reflex before swiftly removing it, smiling to himself as you wretch, tears spilling over and onto your cheeks. "You should've."

And it's then that you realise that the loathsome look on Namjoon's face is one you've seen before, back when the two of them had clashed before at the bar. Suddenly it's like everything clicks into place; Namjoon's animosity towards your coworker right from the offset and his warning that you weren't safe. He'd known who Alex was from the start. He'd seen this coming, weeks ago.

"You ok?" Sam whispers and you nod your bowed head, not wanting her to worry. There's a bad taste in your mouth and an ache in your throat, cheeks wet with the moisture that still clings to your eyelashes.

"What should we do with him?" You raise your head sharply, all your attention focused on the man who just spoke - the man whose gun remains pressed between Namjoon's shoulder blades.

"Put him down," Alex replies off-handedly, his back turned as though he's bored of you all. "It's not as though anyone will give a shit," he adds, and for the first time since you found yourself in this place anger courses through you. Like red hot fire it scorches through your veins, heart beating so hard you can feel it thudding in your temples.

How dare he so casually throw away a life like that? How dare he presume that there's no one left that would mourn him?

Your mouth opens, about to protest, but before you can speak Namjoon beats you to it. In the quiet of the room, he murmurs under his breath just loud enough to grab Alex's attention. He turns back, head tilted.

"Excuse me?" Alex enquires, stepping closer again. "You have some final words, is that it? Pearls of wisdom? Some last declaration of everlasting love?" Namjoon lifts his face from where he'd been busy glaring angrily at the floor, and as he looks up his change of expression has you frowning in confusion, bewildered by the smile that curls his lips.

"Just one thing," he replies. The silky softness of his voice seems loud in such a wide and empty room and in the pause that follows you unconsciously hold your breath, waiting to hear him speak again.

"Well?" Alex prompts, impatient, and Namjoon's smile grows when faced with such frustration, a devilish glimmer in his eyes as they land on you and his lips part, commanding you.

" Get down ."

Namjoon's yell is the trigger that sets off the explosion of sound that follows thereafter. Surrounded by angry shouts and ear-splitting bangs, your body seems to act purely on reflex, obeying Namjoon by ducking your head and screwing your eyes tight shut. Sam screams in fear next to you and it takes biting down on your lip so hard it splits to keep you from doing the same, your whole body trembling from the sudden adrenaline hit.

Metal doors slam and there's more banging, more shouting, and the chaos around you is ten times more frightening when you can't see what's going on so you open your eyes and then immediately wish you hadn't when you're greeted by the sight of one of Alex's men meeting his maker right before you; a demise made swift and brutal by the throwing knife that finds its mark in the side of his throat. You can't help the sound that tumbles out of you when he falls to his knees at your feet, eyes rolling back - a pathetic whimper of fright that no one else will be able to hear.

Another boom lifts your gaze from that macabre sight and now more bodies are pouring into the room, drawn by all the noise, and amongst them Jin and Jungkook and Jimin and oh god Jimin’s here and he -

A roar of rage and a flash of motion in front of you, bodies blurring together as one and it's not until they stop rolling across the filthy ground that you realise it's Alex and Namjoon - a flash of silver and teeth bared.

"HOSEOK!" Sam's yell turns your head just in time for you to see his boots hit the floor amongst the sound of gunfire, Yoongi landing next to him a mere second later with a grace unbefitting of the brutality surrounding them. There's a long knife clutched in each of his hands; weapons he's just about to use when Hoseok beats him to the punch and launches himself at the man who'd dared to approach them, neck broken and long dead before he's even hit the floor. Yours and Yoongi's eyes meet for just a second, long enough for yours to begin filling with tears. Relief and terror and love and all of it is just too much for you to even attempt to hold it back, the ache in your throat intensifying for every second longer that you look.

Hands on your hands jerk you back to reality, jumping in your seat one minute and then struggling the next, feet kicking out wildly until you realise the fingers brushing yours are cold, not warm, and a familiar voice whispers hurriedly into your ear.

"Noona, noona, it's ok," he promises and an unattractive sob escapes you when you feel Jungkook's lips brush fleetingly against your temple as he swiftly breaks you free of your bonds, snapping the thick rope like sewing thread. Next to you, Sam is being pulled to her feet, her newly freed hands clutching the thick harness straps running down either side of Hoseok’s chest.

“C’mon, let’s get you-” Alarm registers on Sam’s face as she turns to look at you, and just as Jungkook is wrapping one arm around your waist to lift you to your feet the two of you are suddenly knocked off balance, another body barrelling into Jungkook’s side. He goes sprawling backwards as you go the opposite way, your hands reaching out to brace your fall, palms grazing on the cold concrete. They take the brunt but you’re not quite able to save yourself in time to keep your head from smacking against the floor, and your vision spots and sparkles as you groan with the pain that explodes between your temples.

The room rages around you as you blink back the haze. You fight to remain conscious, forcing your head up only to be overcome with a wave of horrified nausea at the first thing you see; Namjoon just a few feet away, blood smeared around his mouth and dripping from his fingers. Alex is trapped beneath him, defeated, and your stomach roils at the sight of the rivulets of crimson pulsing from his torn open throat. It pools underneath him, staining his clothes and running into eyes that are still open wide and staring - unseeing.

Amongst the chaos Namjoon bends to drink, his eyes meeting yours as his mouth nears the source. The look of terror on your face has him pausing - hesitating in a way he never would’ve done before - but before you either one of you can say a word another loud and unfamiliar sound makes both your heads turn.

From across the other side of the room flames roar, the streams so vicious that you even you can feel their deadly heat from where you lay, sprawled across the floor. Both men and vampires are forced to dodge the flamethrower’s wide range as they continue to fight, and as the flames come closer and Namjoon springs to his feet, you soon follow - though you’re not nearly so graceful in motion. Your head swims as you stagger to your feet, head blindly turning this way and that in search of a friendly face to run towards but finding it hard to pick anyone out amongst the seemingly endless stream of Alex’s men that pour into the room.

They’re well prepared. Whether they carry a gun or a knife, each and every one is armed with silver and the knowledge of what it is they’re fighting - of their strengths and their weaknesses. Useful information, but you can tell that it scares them. You can see it in their eyes. Their attacks are frantic and uncoordinated having been caught off guard and without a leader to direct them, but that doesn’t make them any less lethal.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the noise and you spin on the spot to find him, eyes landing on him first and then quickly following his line of sight over to Jimin where he’s trapped on the far side of the room, surrounded by three of Alex’s men.

He’s fighting hard, his expression fierce, but it’s obvious he’s beginning to struggle as the two of them come at him with their long silver knives, blood already oozing from a defensive slash wound to his forearm. More worrying still is the third - a man with bright blonde hair stood back from the rest with a gun held out in front of him, the barrel swinging to and fro as he tries and fails to take aim whilst Jimin is still moving so fast.

Outnumbered, though, it won't take long until Jimin’s overwhelmed; pinned down and held in place to deliver a final, fatal blow. It's a thought that has your stomach in knots, the same desperate look on your face as the one Yoongi's wearing as his efforts to reach Jimin are thwarted by another of Alex's men. He's forced to stop - to fight - screaming out his frustration as his blade swings.

Helpless, your eyes sweep the room. None of the others seem to have noticed that Jimin’s in trouble, too preoccupied with defending themselves - or in Taehyung's case, revelling in the assault. Seeing him now, throwing himself onto the back of the man wielding the flamethrower and ripping his throat out with nothing but his teeth, you're perfectly able to imagine the menace Taehyung had confessed he once was.

A punch to his solar plexus catches Jimin off guard and knocks him off balance, crying out as his attacker takes advantage of his falter and slashes open his shoulder, the other aiming for his side. Injured, Jimin isn't quick enough to recover. They grab a hold of him as he staggers backward, clutching his ribs, and your stomach drops as they force him to expose his chest to the gun trained on him, arms pinned behind his back and a knife pressed to his throat.

As if sensing that these are his final moments, Jimin’s eyes find yours amongst the chaos. Helplessness isn't an expression you're used to seeing on Jimin’s face but he wears it well now, eyebrows furrowed and eyes pressing closed as he cries out in pain at the blow he receives to his already injured side.

It's not a conscious thought that has you suddenly rushing forward into the fray - no grand decision to suddenly be brave. It's nothing but instinct and adrenaline that drives you toward danger, only vaguely aware of Jimin shouting for you to stop as your fist closes around the barrel of the gun. You're unsuccessful at yanking it from his grasp but you're an effective distraction at the very least, yelling a war cry as you try to wrestle it out of his hands, any fear for your own safety long since gone.

You can smell his breath as the man screams at you; stale cigarette smoke that has yellowed the teeth he bares. His large fingers pry yours from the metal roughly, bending them till you're forced to let go, and he laughs as he lashes out and strikes you with it, the butt of the gun slamming into your jaw. Pain ricochetes through bone and takes your breath away, barely conscious enough to register just how much of a mistake you've made until you feel cold metal wedged against your ribs and your body goes rigid, an unfamiliar hand gripping your waist tight.

"Stupid bitch," he grunts as Jimin shouts your name. He's frantically trying to wrestle free of his captors in spite of the knife threatening to slice into his flesh. You close your eyes, unable to stand the sight of utter panic written on his face. You don't want your last look of him to be one so miserable as this.

The barrel of the gun jabs sharply between your ribs and makes you whimper; makes your legs feel so weak that they'd give out if it weren't for your pride.

If you're going to die, it sure as hell won't be on your knees.

If you're going to die… you wish you could tell them you love them one last time.

Bracing yourself, you clench your teeth and press your eyes shut even tighter as the gunman says something you refuse to give him the honour of hearing. You wish he’d just get on with it. You wish he’d -

Suddenly, you’re being grabbed - dragged - and when your eyes reflexively snap open it’s Jin’s face you see, the bridge of his nose purpled with bruises. He barely looks at you, though, too quick to toss you to the side and then launch himself at Alex’s men to spare you anything other than the most fleeting of touches to your cheek; a tender gesture in the midst of such violence.

It’s Yoongi’s arms that catch you - Yoongi’s arms that hold you back as you twist and turn, completely disorientated. You don’t even realise it’s him until he forcibly takes hold of your face and insists look at him, eye to eye, and it’s only then you realise how hard you’re breathing; how sopping wet your cheeks are.

“Jimin,” you choke out, barely able to speak for the fear that grips you, “Jimin, he-”

“He’s ok,” he coos, his thumbs dirty as they stroke back and forth along your cheeks, smearing black across your skin. “You’re ok. We’ve got you.” Yoongi tries to pull you into an embrace but you resist, unable to believe the words he keeps repeating without seeing it for yourself. With a thundering heart, you turn in the circle of his arms this and that and soon see that what he’s been trying to tell you is, in fact, true - it really does seem as though the tides are turning in your favour.

There are only small pockets of fighting left - loyal stragglers that haven’t yet fled that Namjoon and Taehyung are quickly taking care of with ruthless efficiency. There’s blood smeared around both their mouths and looking around you see that they aren’t the only ones that have taken advantage of this opportunity for a fresh meal. Jin’s busily draining what’s left of the man that had threatened your life and you watch with wonder as his bruises begin to fade before your eyes.

And Jimin…

Jimin’s safe. Although bleeding, he’s still conscious, and the room has quietened enough now that amongst the sounds of gluttonous feeding and Taehyung’s whoops of joy you can hear him groan as Jungkook helps him to his feet. Jimin looks to you, and though his hair’s stained with blood and his body looks near broken as he limps his way forward, you’re still able to summon a smile.

You’ve never felt relief like this before - never experienced such a swing between high and low in such short space of time. It has you dizzy. Euphoric.

“He needs to feed,” you tell Yoongi, so giddy that you’re almost giggling as you say the words. You slip out of his arms before he can protest, utterly blind to any danger that may remain as you rush forward, not noticing until too late the searching hand of one Jimin’s earlier attackers.

Clinging to consciousness, he reaches beyond the pool of blood in which he lays. His fingers close around his comrades gun and he lifts it, selects you as his target and takes aim.

If someone asked, you couldn’t say where exactly the bullet hit you. You couldn’t say you saw it coming, either, nor give an opinion on which was worse; bracing for death or having it take you by surprise.

The pain of it takes your breath away, gasping your inhale as you stagger back from the force of it. You can’t seem to inflate your lungs, your whole chest burning as you feel yourself falling, but even as you tip backwards Jimin’s face is the only thing that you can see. He catches you in his arms to cushion your fall and your hands - scrambling, shaking - clutch onto his shoulders as your mouth flails uselessly, silently pleading for help in gasping, gulping breaths.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe .

Your focus changes, wild eyes fixing on Yoongi and reaching for him - reaching but he can’t seem to see past the blood that’s dripping from his hands as he lifts them from your side, too shellshocked to speak let alone cry the way Jimin is doing. Knelt at your side he has the side of his face pressed to your chest, his ear left above your heart as his shoulders shake and heave. As if somehow if he can just focus on your heart he can somehow keep it beating.

Your fingers twitch with the want to run them through his hair but you can’t seem to feel them anymore. You’re heavy and weightless all at once, your vision fuzzy and fading around the edges, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear sorrowful sobs. Jungkook, you think. He’s calling for his noona and hearing it almost makes you smile in spite of everything - in spite of the ache inside your chest.

Jimin looks up - his face wet with tears and eyes red-rimmed - and it strikes you then how familiar his expression is. It’s exactly as he looked as he knelt over Yoongi before, in a situation almost identical to this, and you want more than anything to reach out to him and tell him that he’ll be ok. To run your fingertips along the face you so adore just one last time.

Yoongi will look after him. Give Jimin all the love you haven’t had the time to give.

They’ll look after each other, you know that for sure.

You feel your smile falter. It’s harder to open your eyes, now, and you feel Jimin shake you, hear him call out your name. His tears are dripping on your face and his mouth is on yours and you can feel them shaking but he’s slipping away.

He’s slipping further and further away from you and try as you might, you can’t summon the will to stay.

Are you leaving, or is he? You’re not sure any more.

A voice calls out into the darkness as it lures you in, but it’s not your name that you hear - nor is it Jimin’s or Yoongi’s; Jungkook’s or Jin’s. One word. Loud and clear as it’s repeated again and again.

The knell of a bell.

‘Hyung! Hyung! Hyung!’

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