#i hope everyone is doing well i miss being active here i'm so fucking BUSY atm

[theyungihven]

Truth Or Dare ⁉️ ⁕ Hongjoong

HALLOWEEN EVENT

☆ pairing: hongjoong as Dracula x Human? Reader

☆ genre: mystery, fantasy, horror,

☆ warnings: mentions of blood, sacrifice, vampires and ghosts

☆ word count: 2.1k+

☆ synopsis : You and your friends dare to spend a night at the infamous Dracula's Castle but things go astray as one by one everyone goes missing and you come across the man rumoured to be Dracula.

“You gotta do this!” You hear your friends yell or more like discuss something in the secret hideout. 

The hideout is an abandoned laboratory where you sometimes work on illegal stuff. The discussions take place every day here where everyone in your friend group (it's just 2 people) gather to share about the current news (conspiracy theories) and rumours they heard around the town while you are busy building your prototype.

“Bro, I don't wanna die too early. First, fucking global warming, now this shit? Nah I'm out!” Claire shouts as she bangs the old lunch table discarded in the room. Well that's Claire, one of you two friends, being herself. You smile at her humour which strangely manages to entertain you.

“But they offered a reward of 250 grand, if we spend a night there and return alive.” You listen keenly to Kevin who explains the plan before you to decide to jump into their conversation. He's obviously got a strategy if he's pitching the idea, doesn't he? He has to!

“Alive? The fuck is going on there?” Claire yells  in terror as it laces her body manifesting itself in her tone which shivers and shrieks.

“Rumour says, it's Dracula, who was sleeping till last month in the villa.” Kevin whispers loudly as if he intended you to hear on their spill the tea session.

“Which shithead woke him up, for fuckssake?” Claire huffs and pushes back her chair. You hear the screeching of the rusty metal and make a note to check their safety because you don't want anyone to break their bones from falling off that thing.

“Someone from med school. They're missing apparently.” Kevin slurs his sentence as if he's making things up or masking up the important details. Cheeky little Bastard who's always up to something. Probably some anatomy geek must have gotten all curious to see Dracula in the flesh and fainted in there or lost his way.

“And now, we're going there to feed him?" Claire shrieks, whose voice sounds like a scared five year old upon seeing a clown which she is to be honest.

“No, obviously! To show whoever is hiding in there, that they cannot hide for long.” Kevin's sentence catches your attention and you think whether to join them or wait and hear more. Of course, you choose the latter.

“So... we're going to expose them?”Claire asks excitedly as if in hopes of going on a ghost hunting mission. They are her time passing activities and the ghost files is her favourite show. “What if it's a cannibal or serial killer?”

“Can you speak positively for once, Claire?” Kevin shrugs, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Sorry.” Claire says softly and the conversation stills, creating an awkward silence in the room. 

You finally decide to interrupt as you pull your chair to their table and make yourself comfortable on it. “So, what's the plan?” You say, chewing the strawberry flavoured gum and reading the expressions on their faces.

“See who finally decided to pay attention?” Kevin mocks you and you roll your eyes at his statement. 

“Does the area have connectivity? Comms? Anything?” You ask him, because he certainly has some information on this if he's even mentioning the topic but he has a tendency to hide things till after the disaster is done.

“Nope everything's dead. There's a strong magnetic field apparently…” He trails on his words, again and clicks his tongue.

“What in the Stranger Things?” Claire wonders with her mouth hanging open. 

“Shut up Claire! You’re watching too much science fiction.” Kevin yells at her, sending a stern glare at Claire who turns her head down with a frown on her lips.

“We gotta do it the pirate way.” you suggest calmly, leaning back on the chair and folding your arms.

“Pirates?” Claire asks, raising her eyebrow and leaning forward with enthusiasm.

“I forgot you had pirate blood for a minute.” adds Kevin and Claire acknowledges the fact with ahh. 

“So, if we don't have comms, drones and walkies aren't gonna work. We gotta get flares and some type of marker to make a path for entry and exits.” You say looking at the table and your friends exchange looks.

“A blueprint of the place!” Claire exclaims as if she has figured out the answers to one of the world's unsolvable riddles.

“It's not your fucking aunts house!” Kevin says loudly, giving Claire the ‘I'll murder you’ eyes.

“Yeah he's right. But the villa is not that big to get lost.” You mumble, moving forward and setting your arms on the table. 

“How do you know that?” Kevin gives you the sceptical look as if you're a notorious criminal with disgusting crimes.

“It was once our family property, that was a long time tho. Some feud happened and we lost it.” You confess and their faces have the funniest expression you've ever seen. Confused, surprised and wtf?

“You have a map?” Kevin yells in your ear and you retort meters away, squeezing your eyes close  due to the pain.

“Kinda, it's a tracing, rather than a map.” you say, rubbing your ear and a flicker of hope lights up on Kevin's face. 

“Atleast, we have something.” Claire mumbles as she shares a smile.

“Be at my house at 7, we'll discuss stuff there. That's it for now.”

***

“Listen, the Manor has two exits.” You explain, spreading out the old one dimensional tracing of the Manor and its illustrations.

“Didn't you say it was a villa?” Claire says, setting her hands on her waist as she stares at the floor plan.

“Can we kick her out?” Kevin suggests and the idea doesn't sound bad considering her level headed ass. 

“It's dangerously close to Yes, but what if I get bored? We'll need her.” You trail, spreading out the second floor plan of the Manor.

“Fair. So, Claire, just shut your mouth and listen. No speaking over someone.” Kevin says and shushes Claire who pouts, giving him the puppy eyes.

“Okay so the first exit is at the front, obviously for the people and the second is at the back for the goods.” You say with your finger tracing the main gate of the Manor and then the back gate. 

“Ohhhhhh!” Claire coos, and Kevin giggles at her reaction while he gets ready to smack her on head.

“Yeah. Shut your mouth before a fly lands in there. Anyways, moving on!” You say, thinking about your next sentence and Claire slaps her hand to her mouth. 

“Are we dividing up and going from two exits?” Kevin asks, and you look up at him, eyes diverting themselves from the map and landing on his face.

“Yes, you read my mind. You two will go from the front door to distract whatever is in there and I'll go with someone else from the back.”

“Is this someone else, late to the meeting?”

“Hey there!” A voice says and it is followed by the garage door smashing open with a thud, “Sorry I had soccer practice.” Yunho, your arch nemesis on friendly terms, says and shares an awkward smile.

“This is my neighbour, yunho.” You introduce him and drag him by his arm to make his tall ass body stand next to yours.

“Hello, very nice to meet you.” He waves at your friends with a bright smile and Claire gives him heart eyes at which you cringe. 

“You both are polar opposites!” Kevin comments and you feel heating rising on your cheeks.

“We get that a lot!” You and Yunho say at the same time only to meet each other's eyes the next second and shy away. 

“What did I miss?” Yunho says after clearing his throat as he glances in your direction. His golden blond hair falls over eyes and you observe the way his gaze flickers from your face and back to map.

“Whatever I said to you, last night.” You say, finding something to stare at besides his brooding figure.

“Okay then, I'm saved I guess!” Yunho says as he nervously chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The next phase of the plan is when I signal you, we move to the first floor. The highest is the second floor which has a library in the attic.” You say and it excites something in Yunho judging by the creepy smirk on his lips.

“Attics scare me!” Claire says, her voice shrieking with fear of the darkness.

“What doesn't scare you Claire?” Kevin says in a monotone as he turns his head in her direction.

“Him!” Claire points in Yunho's direction at which you can't help but sigh.

“Flirt somewhere else, lovebirds. We got shit to do.” You roll your eyes then go back to thinking about what to say next.

“How are you going to communicate?” Yunho asks, giving you his starry puppy eyes and you can't help but gulp nervously. What is he even trying to do?

“Well, I have a perfect device for that.” You say, distracting yourself from the tall and beautiful blonde beside you with a bright ass smile.

“Where?” Claire asks as if she's looking for something and fails to find it.

“Our friendship bracelets. They work with a higher bandwidth of 7GHz.” You say, pointing at the bracelet on Claire's wrist.

“7g WiFi?” Claire exclaims and you hear an audible sigh from Kevin, at which Yunho giggles and earns a glare.

“Yeah kinda like that.....i guess.” you mumble under your breath.

“Yunho doesn't have one, though?” Someone asks while your mind pulls you in a trance and you start to zone out.

“He does.” You say, almost mumbles as you start to slip into the fever dream.

“He DOES?”  They yell. 

AT THE MANOR

“You know what to do. On the signal, disperse. It's two taps, distinct and repeating 3 times. If anything goes down, the distress signal is continuous tapping. Light the flare ONLY if its a fucking emergency, and if we need to abort the mission.” You yell as low as possible while they listen to you attentively. 

“Yes sir!” Everyone shouts, tightening the strap of their backpack of supplies.

“Remember to mark your way up to the second floor. People get lost there.” You say and everyone exchanges confused looks. “It's a spell.” You remind them and they nod their heads. “Now, go. Meet you at the library!”

According to the plan, you and Yunho go through the back gate while Claire and Kevin from the front gate. The sound of the rusted iron screeching when Kevin pushes the gate echoes around the Manor and you curse under your breath. 

The way up to the first floor had been easy, then after the signal from the other team gave clearance, you decided to head to the second floor alone bidding Yunho a goodbye. It had been strange for a while, walking down the eerie, empty hallway with the feeling of something watching you the whole time. 

You stand in the middle of the never ending hallway, a ghostly whisper greets your ear and sends shivers down your spine. 

What in the fucking hell?? 

There's a ghostly touch on your arm, ice cold as it traces its finger down your warm skin. When you turn to face the monster, there's no one behind you. Then you feel it, a looming shadow over your shoulder but when you turn again, it's gone. 

So, you walk on because standing still is more dangerous. You choose to run when you see a pale face in the middle of the corridor grinning wildly at you which sends terror down your body. Your heart beats at an amazing speed as your breath shortens, adrenaline running through your body which initiates the flight mechanism because there is no way you're dealing with that demonic thing in this haunted mansion. 

“I've been searching for you for so long.” A voice echoes in the hallway or is it your brain playing tricks on you. Luckily you find the stairway leading to the second floor and run towards it but things take a turn when you realise, it is a trap. 

“I thought you were a smart girl.” The sinister voice echoes in your mind again as you walk away from the door that shut itself only to bump into something hard. Turning around you come to see the very pale face you had seen in the hallway but very clearly now. 

The man stands in front of you in his full glory, the navy uniform and wounds from the battle still decorating his lifeless body. “You traitor!” You feel a sharp pain in your chest and you look down to see a dagger pressed to your heart. “You'll repay the blood we shed that night, you vampire.” Everything goes black when he twists the knife and the last thing you see is a scared yunho trying to save you.

[pseudowho]

Hello HAITCH! How are you? Hope the moves been going well and not too hectic! Also hope your validation/certification went well!! 🤎🤎

Sorry for the wall of text, please ignore my ramblings of delirium 🙂‍↕️

Haitch, how does one show kindness to themselves? I always appreciate your words of wisdom when I come across them.. I have just been struggling with being kind to myself lately, I’ve been sick for a while (nothing serious just some sinusitis and tooth abscess - sorry for the TMI) and because of this I have been home for the past 3+ weeks.. it’s like I recover from one thing and catch another.. and I’ve missed a lot of work.. my work if definitely not happy with me, even when I’ve provided medical certificate for my absence and a letter from my doctors supporting my recovery and highlighting that I have been down with infections left and right.. funny thing is I actually caught my first viral infection from work.. so yeah, I have not been kind to myself during this time, and everyone I know does remind me that “work is work” , “focus on getting better” it doesn’t really make me feel any less shit.. but I have been reminding myself that I have done everything I possibly can to actively recover (meds, multiple doctors visits, antibiotics courses, dentist visits to check on my abscess) I just need to be a bit kinder as I renter my workplace again.. I don’t know it’s so exhausting being sick and then not really being compassionate towards myself while feeling sick..

Sorry for the ramblings, please don’t feel obligated to respond to this! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

I hope you have a good week ahead! 🤭💞

Hey! Don't apologise, it's what I'm here for.

Revalidation etc is going well! My midwife friend is coming over tonight, to complete a part that I need a buddy for, and lo and behold £120 later (sob sob sob) I shall have the privilege of remaining certified 🫠🫠 Packing is a Sisyphian task, but I feel like I can see the top of the hill...maybe? I'm probably imagining it. Anyway!! We got the keys to the new place, so I've been completing the steady process of moving stuff over. I'm going to start heading over there on evenings this week, to redecorate the place before we move in. Phew!

Most importantly: you. Being ill long term is truly the worst for mental health and self-esteem. It's fucking true; there are vast amounts of studies supporting this. You've nestled the answer already within your Ask: it's not your fault, you've been ill for ages and tried to get better, you've followed medical advice.

Modern society is geared towards making us feel like a burden for experiencing life. Being ill sometimes is life. Living in Capitalist societies that view people as business/stock/capital/possessions, you are stripped bare of basic human rights and reduced to a cog in the system. This is wrong. Louder for those in the back! THIS IS WRONG.

Knowing this and wholly accepting this is one step.

The other...I might be the wrong person to ask. I am notoriously never kind to myself-- even moreso when I'm ill. So I'll be kind to you in the way that I am to others, when I'm not kind to myself:

Cut yourself some slack. It's not your fucking fault you were ill. Don't extend your illness by wallowing and disliking yourself; turn your back on your illness, and look forward to re-entering a normal pace of life. If you can, get yourself a sexy coffee on the way to work. Make wholesome lunches. Go to bed on time, and do sweet things for yourself, and get back to life, because it's sure as hell better than being cooped up feeling like shit all day.

View your lack of compassion towards yourself as part of the illness. You're better now. Let it go. Hold your head high. If someone tries to make you feel bad for it, slap it back in their face. Embarrass them-- "I assure you, being that sick was harder for me that it was for you, Karen. And here I was, thinking people would be happy to see me back."

View getting better as a holistic event; it must include your mind and soul, as well as your body. Always include them in your path to recovery.

Alright?

Stop beating yourself up. Shit happens. Are you going to let it keep happening because you can't stop berating yourself for it?

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[httpiastri]

JACK!!! i have returned! and i missed you! 💘💘

SO HERE WE GO!! THE FIGHT… i actually don’t think pepe will fight with both boys at the same time but definitely with either one of them?! i think it’s either boy’s constant teasing and remarks towards pepe’s newfound feelings friendship with yn!! they make it their own personal mission to point out everything pepe would do with and for yn, like pepe having a study date plan with yn? - “how was the study date with yn?” pepe sharing blankets with yn during one of their friend group’s movie nights? - “keep yn warm will you, pepe?” pepe coming back home from the hangout plan everyone was conveniently busy and can’t go anymore? - “did you have fun with yn today?” it started out innocent, coming from a place of love, just the best friends trying to help pepe figure out his own feelings for yn 🥹🤏🏻 they think they’re doing him a favor by giving that little nudge pepe needs but with how scared pepe is to just admit that he does, he kinda snapped at them one day?! he’s definitely like, “can you fucking stop that? it’s annoying, i don’t like her like that.” both boys are just … 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ “???what’s your problem dude??? what’s so bad if you do?” and pepe goes “but i don’t??? and try minding your own business next time?” and they’re just like “oh my god, are you scared?? is this what it is??” and pepe stomped back to him room, slammed the door shut and avoid talking to both boys for a few days or so :(

and imagine pepe ignoring/pulling back from yn after the fight!!! yn thinking that their friendship is finally progressing, just to show up to class the day after pepe’s fight with the boys and see her usual seat besides him being occupied by someone else, or seeing him sitting in a completely different row??? she’s like oh… okay… that’s fine too i guess..… 🫠 and i can see her just texting him throughout the day, undoubtedly worried bc of how he’s acting and he would dryly respond to them, before completely leaves her on delivered!! her final straw was raising her hands up to wave up pepe when she saw him across the campus, but he quickly duck his head down, shoving his airpods in while avoiding eye contact and making his way back to the boys’ shared apartment 😵‍💫

oh she def texted chris, sebas, and the gfs !! “guys is pepe okay? did i do something wrong? or say anything i shouldn’t have? he’s been ignoring me and i feel like im gonna cry.” chris and sebas, the first hand witnesses to the fight is def not shocked pepe is walking around with a sour expression on his face but is a bit taken a back to hear that’s he’s been ignoring her. so they’re just like “nah he’s not mad at you! we got into a bit of a fight, give him some time okay?” and their gfs came over for a girls night 🥺 the girls def threatened their bfs the day after, being like “idk what’s wrong with your friend but you tell him to get his shit together. all yn did last night was talk about how she hopes he’s doing well and that you guys made up.” and i think, whichever boy that was in the fight with him or both of them actually, definitely try to put in a good word or two for him to yn! just asking her to be a little patient with him while he’s trying his best, and to give him a little bit of time bc he’ll eventually come around… oh how i love these 3 so much!!! 🫶🏻 nothing like your best friends putting a good word for you to the girl you like while you actively ignore her

- 🎀

my dear dear bow anon 🥺 gosh i loved this SO much. trying not to freak out over how perfect this is-

okay yes i also think that both sebas and chris would probably tease him like crazy together, and like you say it's probably mostly with good intent. they wanna see their friend happy and maybe if they push him a little to realize his own feelings…. 🤭

but the fight itself was probs just with one of them. i'm imagining the two of them talking about pepe and his feelings for yn just the two of them, a little like "how can he not realize? he's head over heels for her??". so they're both on the same page yk. but then i think that maybe sebas takes it too far one day, saying something about the way that pepe and yn went on a long walk last night just to "talk", or the way that he held her hands in his earlier today to heat them because they were cold… and pepe just can't take it anymore. it's not weird at all that he eventually just snaps, he's under enough pressure just from himself because he can't tell what he wants, and now the guys who are supposed to be his best friends are pressuring him too?? pretty hard to handle all that at the same time

(also… pepe being the most upset when sebas brings up the idea of him being scared 😭 like he really struck a nerve with that one…. pepe tries to be so tough and strong but on the inside, he's a little softie 🥹)

i'm thinking like when yn goes through all that the day after, ofc she first texts the girls and they have no idea. but they text their respective bfs, who happen to be sitting next to each other in class, and chris looks at sebas like "? what's going on?" while sebas just wants to hide under a rock because he knows it's his fault.…. so he says "i think i screwed up" and explains. chris wants to bonk him on his head but refrains, and instead send a message to yn telling her that pepe and sebas got into a fight so that's probably what's affecting him. and while it does calm her a little, she still can't shake away the feeling that she's part of the reason why he's acting like this. so there are definitely some tears during the girls' night 🥺 and ofc she like pours her heart out in front of the girls and it just fuels their anger towards their bfs because they feel so sorry for her. sebas would probably come to yn all ashamed and apologize and 😭😭

[calumcest]

i took a walk with my fame down memory lane (i never did find my way back) - chapter two

[ao3]

here we are...look at me posting on a regular schedule who ever said i was chaotic! 

@tirednotflirting i will not stop thanking you on every single chapter get ready to get incredibly bored of hearing me thank you and say how nice it is to have you on the doc because i’m saying it twice for every chapter once here and once on ao3 which actually has just reminded me to put the ao3 link on this chapter see it’s actually super useful. ao3 link inserted i love you i adore you and i cannot thank you enough for the amount of bullshit you put up with from me both generally and regarding this fic especially 

me posting this fic is just please enjoy my downwards spiral (and listen to britpop)

Predictably, Noel doesn’t piss himself. He also doesn’t aim a punch at Calum when he finds out about the bet, though, which is his way of saying hope you’re alright. Instead, he just cuffs Liam upside the head, calls all of them pricks, and announces he’s going to bed. Liam rolls his eyes and calls him a boring cunt, which earns him another clip around the ear, but not two minutes after Noel and Bonehead have filed out of the room, Liam’s yawning and saying that he might turn in too. Calum, not wanting to be left in the living room on his own during a comedown, follows him out, listening to Liam mutter something about Tony and firing him because he’s almost as much of a boring cunt as Noel all the way up to their room.

Liam crashes almost as soon as they get in, passing out fully-clothed on his bed, and, as Calum’s trying to carefully pick his way through the debris littering the floor from his bed to the ensuite to brush his teeth, he trips over something that makes him stub his toe against the wardrobe and swear under his breath. He winces, gripping his toe as he looks for the offending object on the floor to give it an angry kick, and finds-

The magazine. 

The magazine. The one he’d nicked from the dental surgery, the one Liam had nearly got in a fight over, all because of one tiny, glossy picture of Michael Clifford. He hasn’t looked at it since that day, too sober and too busy being yelled at every single minute of the day by Noel for playing too rough, or playing too clean, or playing at all. He hasn’t wanted to, either, hasn’t wanted to be confronted with the evidence that Michael’s carried on living without him, that he’s not that same seventeen year old boy that Calum had left behind in Sydney Airport half a decade ago. 

That’s not to say he’s forgotten about it, though. Far from it - even in his pretty-much-permanently inebriated state, the little picture of Michael, stubble and all, has been playing around in the background of most of his thoughts. It’s easier to ignore when he’s with the others, when Noel’s snapping at him or screaming at Liam, when Bonehead’s rolling his eyes and passing him another joint, when Tony’s muttering about how Noel expects far too much of him, when Mark’s chivvying all of them to get up and get in the fucking studio, don’t they know they’re paying two thousand quid a day for this shit? It’s easier to focus on snapping at Noel, on stepping back from the brothers and leaving them to it, on taking a long toke from the joint, on ignoring Tony while whole-heartedly agreeing with him, on rolling his eyes as he shuffles into the live room and picks up his bass. He doesn’t have to think too hard, then, doesn’t have to let his thoughts stray from the here and now back to being seventeen and sun-kissed and in love. 

Now, though, on his own, teetering on the brink of a comedown but still pleasantly drunk, Liam passed out and snoring gently on the bed a few feet away, Calum’s got nothing tying him down. There’s nothing for him to ground himself in, no stern, suspiciously-Noel-sounding voice in his mind telling him to stay fucking focused, or he’ll get a clip round the ear. 

So, before he’s even really thought about it, Calum leans down and picks the magazine up, flipping straight to the page with the little picture of Michael on. 

Even though he’s prepared this time, even though he knows he’s going to see Michael, older and broader and taller, his stomach still starts its best impersonation of a fucking Olympics tryout when his eyes find Michael at the bottom of the page. Christ. It’s like looking at someone Calum had seen every day for years at a train station, or maybe in a dream; he’s instantly recognisable but doesn’t quite match up to the mental image Calum’s got of him, lips a little plumper and eyes a little darker than Calum had expected. He looks like a mixture of someone so fucking familiar to Calum - the way he’s got his hands tucked in his pockets and his head tilted back a little - and someone Calum’s never met before, with the way his eyes are dark and almost hungry, the way his lashes are lowered slightly, the way he’s holding himself with such an air of confidence. 

Calum sits down on the edge of his bed, disgusting taste in his mouth forgotten as he flips back to the first page of the article and starts to read. Mike, the singer calls him. Mike Clifford. It’s fucking ridiculous. Michael had always hated being called Mike, would always use his last vestiges of energy to lift his head from the toilet and protest weakly whenever Calum called him Mikey. The only time Calum had ever actually got away with calling him Mikey was when he was stroking his hair and Michael was crying into his chest, drunk and stoned and fucking miserable about Calum moving to the UK. 

Mike’s our secret weapon, the singer (Damon, as Calum’s reminded) says, with an ‘air of confidence’, apparently. Calum briefly wonders what he means by that as his eyes flit to the next paragraph, mind lagging a few seconds behind. What kind of a war does he think they’re fighting? 

Of course we’re a British band, Damon comments later on. We sing about British life, British experiences. Mike’s not penning songs about kangaroos and shrimps on barbies, is he? And anyway, he can outdrink the lot of us, which is what really matters. Are these really the best questions NME can come up with? Calum can’t help the way his lips twitch at that. That, at least, sounds like Michael. 

It was serendipity, I think, Damon ‘muses’ a few paragraphs later, according to the journalist. We were looking for a second guitarist, and Mike had just moved over. He was living with Graham - he knew him through a friend from Sydney - and when Graham mentioned that he thought his band might need a second guitarist, Mike mentioned he could play. 

It never came up in conversation before? the journalist asks, and Damon apparently ‘smiles wryly’. 

That’s Mike for you, he allegedly says, with a shrug, and Calum feels a strange, hollow tug at his heart. Yeah. That is Michael. Anyway, he came along to a practice session and gelled perfectly with the rest of us. In fact, he brought some new ideas, a breath of fresh air that I think we needed. You know, the rest of us are four lads from the south who all grew up in similar circumstances and listened to similar music. I think we needed the different perspective. 

That’s all Damon says about Michael. It leaves a sort of sour taste in Calum’s mouth - although, in fairness, that might just be the aftertaste of vomit - because this ‘Mike’ doesn’t sound like Michael, doesn’t feel like Calum’s- well. Whatever Michael ever was to him. 

They’d never actually spoken about it. There had never been a conversation, an are you my boyfriend now, then, or what? They’d just both known - I’m yours, and you’re mine, and that’s all that matters. It had made it easier, Calum thinks, for him to justify it to himself when he got caught up in his new life, when Liam’s bright blue eyes started swimming in front of Michael’s sea-green ones, when harsh cackles were dubbed over soft laughter, when loud and brash northern accents started taking up more of his thoughts than gentle Australian twangs. We weren’t actually together, he’d told himself, every time he saw a letter in the post and his stomach twisted with guilt. You don’t owe him anything. 

In fairness, it hadn’t just been him. Michael’s letters had stopped coming once a week, started coming once a fortnight, and then once a month. But it was Calum’s responses that got ever shorter, from pages and pages to a few half-hearted sentences, because Liam would often barge in halfway through and demand he comes down to the Boardwalk with him right fucking now, and it got harder and harder to justify to himself why he was giving up spending time with one of his best mates to write letters to a boy whose middle name he’d already started to forget. And it was Calum who had seen one last letter from Michael, tossed it on his desk to read later, and then forgotten about it until it was too late and his mum had already thrown it out. He’d barely cared, at the time, because Liam had crashed into his room, Calum’s mum tutting loudly at him from downstairs, and announced that he’d joined a band and they were the best band in the fucking world, and Calum should fucking join, and when Noel got back from tour he’d definitely join too, and they’d be the fucking second coming of the Beatles. 

The guy staring at him from the picture, older and more confident, doesn’t seem like the same guy who’d sent Calum all those letters, telling him I miss you. I’m saving up to fly over to the UK. We’ll be together again, in a year or two. Don’t forget about me. It feels like there are two of him - Calum’s version, Michael, the boy who’d blink at Calum through dark, inky lashes and press soft kisses along his jawline, and this Blur version, Mike, the guy who stares back at Calum almost defiantly, like he’s daring him to keep looking. 

Calum’s not sure whether it’s the drink or the drugs or whether it really is Michael, five years older and having grown into himself and built up a life without Calum, that’s making his stomach twist and turn and his heart sink like this. Or maybe it’s the guilt, all the love and regrets that Calum’s pushed down over the years and paved over with bricks of Liam and Noel and music, that’s stopping him from being able to tear his gaze away from the little Michael on the page, looking like he knows Calum’s eyes are glued to him. 

Calum shifts, and in the near-silence of the room he hears something crinkle in his back pocket, and he frowns, lifting his hips up and fishing a messily-folded piece of paper out. He unfolds it, wondering whether he’s left a receipt or something in there, and finds two scrawled lines of text. 

Noel’s lyrics. 

It was serendipity, I think, the singer had said in the article, and Calum finds himself thinking the same thing as he stares down at the mostly-empty sheet of paper. Maybe this is supposed to mean something, he thinks. Probably just that his jeans are in desperate need of a wash.

There’s a guitar propped up next to Liam’s bed, one he’s been messing around on in what he says is boredom but Calum knows is an attempt to write something that Noel will throw a kind word or two at, and Calum’s grabbing it and setting it on his lap before he’s even really thought about it. He’s not a songwriter, never has been - he’s always wondered how the fuck Noel can retreat into a back room and come out half an hour later with a song like Supersonic - but right now, lyrics on one thigh, picture of Michael on the other, the words and the notes feel like they’re bursting to get out of his mind and down on paper. 

Not for the first time, Calum’s glad Liam’s a deep sleeper, so he doesn’t have to lock himself in the too-big, too-empty living room to write. There’s something comforting about Liam’s presence, something that reminds Calum that he’s not alone, his deep breathing the thin line that ties Calum’s old life to his new life. Calum breathes along with him for a moment, a little drunkenly, like he’s trying to let as much of Liam as possible seep into his veins, maybe hoping he can absorb Liam’s don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and brash courage enough to get the words out without buckling under their weight.

There’s a pen on his bedside table, and he reaches over for it, uncaps it, holds it in his teeth, and starts to strum, humming along to the melody he’s had in his head since reading Noel’s lyrics. It only takes him a few minutes to find the right chord sequence, shifting into a key he knows Liam’ll be able to sing, because Calum knows he won’t be able to sing this himself. It needs a layer of removal, something that Calum can place between himself and the song and look at without having to look any further. 

There we were now here we are All this confusion nothing’s the same to me There we were now here we are All this confusion nothing’s the same to me 

I can’t tell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me I can’t sell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me What I heard is not what I hear I can see the signs but they’re not very clear What I heard is not what I hear I can see the signs but they’re not very clear

So I can’t tell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me I can’t sell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me

This is confusion, am I confusing you? This is confusion, am I confusing you? This is confusion, we don’t want to feel you This is confusion, we don’t want to feel you

The words almost seem to write themselves, ink on the page before Calum’s inebriated mind has even had time to think. Noel’s words slot in flawlessly as a chorus, the perfect contrast to Calum’s muddled, drunken musings, and it only takes about twenty minutes before the whole song’s done, every chord written, every word penned. And, to Calum’s surprise, it sounds really fucking good. 

He sits back, fingers stilling on the strings, and stares down at the sheet of paper. The words look hasty, rushed, a little crooked, and Noel’s going to have questions about the shakiness of the letters, but that’s a problem for a later Calum. 

He reads over it again while he’s still drunk enough to allow himself to, knowing he’ll hate it in the morning, and then puts the pen down to the paper again to write a title. 

Confusion. No, that doesn’t sound right. It’s too vague, too impersonal. New to me. No, that’s a cop-out. Then and Now. No, that won’t be obvious enough. 

And that’s it, Calum thinks, swallowing thickly. He wants it to be obvious. He wants Michael, and only Michael, to know that it’s about him, for him. 

(“How will you know it’s me?” Calum remembers asking urgently one night, standing in the hallway on the phone to Michael, who had just called to mutter that he’s grounded, not allowed out, Calum needs to sneak in and make sure he makes it obvious that it’s him and not Luke or Ashton or else Michael won’t open his window. Apparently Luke, the sly little bastard, has taken to telling Michael it's Calum so Michael opens up for him.

“Say it’s- um-” Michael’s breaking up, and Calum clutches the phone closer to his ear like it’s going to make him any more audible.

“Say what?” 

“Column-” 

“Say it’s Column?” Calum’s incensed. “Michael, d’you fucking know how to pronounce my name?” 

“Fucking- Columbia,” he makes out, and then the line goes dead.) 

Calum only hesitates for a split second, enough for the tiny scrap of him that’s still sober tell him this is a terrible idea, and then the alcohol in his blood barges in, shouldering the remnant of his rational side out of the way and telling him do it, what the fuck have you got to lose? It’s a fucking great idea. 

Yeah, Calum thinks wildly, as his pen touches the paper again. Fuck it. Michael probably won’t hear it, anyway. 

Columbia.

 -------

 Calum plans to keep the song to himself, to sit on it and tell himself he’s agonising over whether or not to show Noel when he knows full well he’s got absolutely no intention of doing so, but, as though he can read Calum’s fucking mind, Noel corners him at lunchtime the next day. 

“So,” he says, blocking Calum’s path out of the kitchen as Liam trails after Tony in the direction of the live room, complaining loudly that if he has to eat one more fucking ham and cheese sandwich he’s going to burn the fucking kitchen down. “That song. What’d you do to it?” 

“What song?” Calum says, momentarily stumped. They’ve just been recording Slide Away, and Calum’s pretty sure he hasn’t fucked anything up so far. In fact, he’s absolutely fucking certain he hasn’t, because if Noel’s stopping them mid-recording to shout at Tony to tighten his floor tom then he’d definitely have thrown a fit over Calum playing a wrong note, or a fraction of a second too fast, or whatever. 

“You know,” Noel says. “The one. From the other night.” He’s acting a little sketchy about it, a little guarded, and that’s what makes it click - oh. That song. The one Noel had been writing on his own in the kitchen at fucking five in the morning, and Calum had finished off at about three last night, drunk out of his mind.

“Oh,” Calum says, and he feels his expression shift into something just as evasive as Noel’s. “Uh. Yeah. I wrote something.” 

“Well, let’s fucking hear it, then,” Noel says. Calum hesitates. 

“Not in front of everyone else,” he says, because he knows the guitars are all in the live room, and by the time it’s cleared out Noel might have forgotten about the song altogether. Noel raises an eyebrow, but nods. 

“My room,” he says. 

“Now?” Calum says, looking down at his sandwich. “Can’t I fucking eat?” 

“Now,” Noel confirms. “We’re on a tight fucking schedule, Cal.” 

“Didn’t stop you spending half of Tuesday fucking off your head,” Calum shoots back. Noel just flips him off, like that’s a fucking answer, and walks out of the kitchen, presumably to fetch a guitar. Calum sighs, stomach sinking, because he hasn’t looked at the lyrics since he wrote them but he has a slightly hazy memory of knowing he’d hate them sober. He’s far too fucking hungover to stomach the fight that’s going to ensue if he refuses to play it to Noel, though, so he just sighs again, deep and resigned, shoves half the sandwich in his mouth and heads up to his room to pick up the sheet of paper with the lyrics and chords on.

Noel’s already in his room when Calum pushes the door open a little too roughly, perched on the edge of his bed, and he holds out his second-favourite acoustic guitar by the neck for Calum to take. Calum does, yanks it out of his hands to tell him I don’t fucking like that you’re making me do this without having to say it - not that Noel will care either way - and sits down on Bonehead’s bed, pulling the guitar into his lap and smoothing the sheet of paper in front of him so he won’t have to look at Noel.

“Right,” he says, and he can hear the nervousness in his own voice. “Don’t fucking laugh.” 

“Won’t if it’s not worth laughing at,” Noel promises, which is as good as Calum’s going to get from him. He swallows, positions his fingers, and starts to play. 

It sounds horrible, he thinks, as he’s playing. He has to try not to wince, because his voice cracks on the words as they drip with the kind of raw honesty that only a song written about his sort-of ex at three in the fucking morning, drunk and halfway between a high and a comedown, can summon. It’s too much for him, hearing his own voice sing the words that he doesn’t want to admit that he means, overwhelms him with the way it makes his heart clench in his chest to hear himself say nothing’s the same to me, and he has to stop before he can reach the end, stilling the strings and shrugging at Noel a little tensely. 

“You get the gist,” he says. Noel blinks at him. He’s not laughing. 

“That’s going on the album,” he says. Calum stares at him. 

“You’re taking the piss,” he says flatly. 

“D’you think I’d fucking take the piss about kicking one of my songs off the album to make room for yours? ” Noel says, and, yeah, that’s a good point. 

“Well, I’m not singing it,” Calum says, before Noel gets any ideas. He’s not putting that out there, him singing a fucking half-love song for Michael. He'd have to be on every drug in the world to even get all the way through it. 

“Why not?” Noel says. 

“Can’t.” 

“You fucking can. Just did.” 

“I’m not fucking singing it, Noel.” Noel purses his lips, looking like he’s weighing up starting a fight with both Calum, who’s very clearly chosen this hill to die on, and Liam, who can’t stand feeling like a spare part, versus relenting and getting something he might not like as much musically but won’t potentially end in a trip to the hospital.

“It won’t sound as good,” he says, sounding annoyed, but that’s a concession from him. 

“I’m arsed,” Calum says. Noel looks at him for a moment, hard, eyes flitting across every crevice of Calum’s face like he’s trying to find the weak link, and then he leans back with a sigh. 

“You sound dead fucking British,” is all he says, a little too calmly for the conversation they've just had, and Calum feels like there’s something more to it that he should be able to pick out but can’t quite discern from the careful guardedness that fronts it. 

“Been here five years, haven’t I?” he shoots back, feeling like he’s on the back foot, somehow. 

“Wouldn’t even know you were Australian if you weren’t such a lightweight,” Noel says, and Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Fuck off,” he says. “I could outdrink all five-two of you any day, Irish blood and all.” Noel flips him off, but his eyes still look far too calculating for Calum’s liking. 

“You know Blur have an Australian guitarist?” he says, and Calum can see from the shrewd look in Noel’s eyes that that’s it, that’s what he’s been leading up to, and Calum’s stomach bottoms out.  

“Oh?” he says, trying to straddle the line between interested enough and uninterested enough. There’s no way Noel can know, he tells himself, as his heart rate picks up. Calum’s never mentioned any of his mates back home to Noel before, let alone mentioned Michael. And even if he did, there’s no reason to make that assumption. Noel doesn’t even know Calum dates guys, and only knows he fucks them because of one night three years ago that neither of them speak about. 

“Mm,” Noel hums. “He’s from Sydney.” He doesn’t say anything else, states it like it’s just an interesting tidbit of information, but the implication is clear. Maybe you know him. A challenge, or maybe a test. 

“So’s a quarter of Australia,” Calum says, pleased with how cool and collected he sounds. Noel cocks his head.

“Weird, though, isn’t it?” he says. “What’re the odds?”

“Since when are you all fucking superstitious?” Calum asks. Noel shrugs. 

“Just think it’s a strange coincidence,” he says lightly. “Two British bands with Australian members, fighting to be number one.” 

“Who’s fighting to be number one?” Calum says. “We haven’t even released a single.”

“Yeah, but anything we release’ll be better than their shite,” Noel says derisively, eyes narrowing, and Calum exhales quietly, because it means the moment’s passed. “Girls who like boys who do boys, or whatever. Fucking shite.” Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, like ‘I’m feeling supersonic, give me gin and tonic’ is any better,” he says, and Noel scowls and kicks at Calum’s shin. 

“Just you fucking wait,” Noel says, and it sounds like a fucking threat, like Calum’s going to be held personally responsible if Supersonic doesn’t go to number one. Which, knowing Noel, is a distinct possibility. 

“I’ll fucking wait,” Calum tells him, setting the guitar aside. 

“Eeyar, what d’you think you’re doing with that?” Noel says, nodding at the guitar. “If you don’t want to sing it, you’ll have to play it to our kid.” The thought makes Calum’s stomach clench. He never wants to sing the fucking song ever again. In fact, he wishes he'd never sung it to Noel in the first place, wishes he'd just dealt with the taunts and jeers that would have come from Noel if he'd thought Calum hadn't been able to get a song down. It'd still be more bearable than having to listen to his own drunken, honest thoughts spilling from his sober lips. 

“You really want to put it on the fucking album?” he says, and he can’t help the note of doubt that creeps into his tone. It's a good song, yeah - really fucking good, actually - but is it as good as Noel's?

“It’s good,” Noel says, which, from Noel, might as well be a declaration that it belonged on the White Album. 

“Not as good as yours,” Calum says. Noel fixes him with a stare, a really, don’t you fucking dare make me say it’s better than one of mine kind of stare, and Calum sighs. It is a good song - it’s definitely better than Cloudburst, might even be better than Sad Song - but he’s not sure he can go through playing it to Liam, Bonehead and Tony. Playing it to Noel was fucking bad enough. 

“Play it to our kid,” Noel says again, like he can read the exact thoughts behind Calum’s stricken expression. “I’ll sort out parts for Tony and Bonehead.” 

Calum loves him.

 -------

 (Liam frowns at him when he trails off halfway through the bridge. 

“That’s fucking mega, that is,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match his words. 

“Cheers,” Calum says, and swallows thickly. Liam doesn’t say anything else, even though Calum can tell from the way his fingers are twitching that he wants to, just hesitates and then sighs and pulls Calum into a tight hug.) 

 -------

 They finish recording the album in mid-March. It’s their second attempt, and it still sounds wrong, so their record label, in one last-ditch attempt to save it, send it off to Owen Morris for mixing. 

Noel’s progressed beyond irate and lashing out at any and all of them for fucking up his precious album to complete despondence, retreating into himself, sitting staring silently out of the car window as they get driven back up to Manchester, not even rising to the bait when Bonehead threatens to steal his Sergeant Pepper vinyl. In the strange, symbiotic way that the brothers have - or maybe just because they’d shared a room for sixteen years and Liam had been at the receiving end of enough of Noel’s tantrums to know how to cope with them - Liam seems to know exactly what Noel needs. He sits close to him, throws an arm around him, pulls him in so Noel’s head is resting on Liam’s shoulder, but doesn’t say anything, carries on normal conversation with the rest of them with a slight edge to his tone, like he’s challenging any of them to fucking comment on the state Noel’s in. They all know better than that, of course. Anyone who’s spent more than thirty seconds in either of the Gallaghers’ presence would know better than that. 

When they get back to Manchester, predictably dull and drizzling slightly, they all head off in their separate directions; Liam and Noel to Noel’s flat, Bonehead to the flat he shares with his girlfriend, Tony back to his parents’ house. Calum, too, heads back to the boring little two-up two-down he’s spent the past five years in.

“You look a state,” is how his mum greets him when he drags his bags out of the car and up the garden path. She holds her arms out for a hug and Calum hesitates for a moment - he knows he reeks of last night’s alcohol with maybe a pinch of stale weed added to the mix - but she gives him a stern look and he relents, wrapping his arms around her and inhaling the familiar scent of home-cooking and books. 

“You smell terrible,” she says disapprovingly, when he pulls away. Calum shrugs. 

“I’ll shower when I get in,” he says. 

“You’ll fix the wall first,” she says, and Calum sighs. Not the fucking wall. 

“Not the fucking wall,” he mutters, and his mum tuts at him, but steps aside to let him into the house. 

“Your dad’s outside already,” she says, as Calum drops his bags next to the stairs. 

“He’s not tried to do anything to the wall, has he?” Calum says, because if his dad’s had anything to do with it, Calum’s going to have his work cut out for him. 

“He said he was just going to take a look,” his mum says, and Calum swears under his breath and heads for the back door. His dad has never quite grasped that ‘just taking a look’ doesn’t require prodding and poking and, on one memorable occasion, a blowtorch. 

As Calum had expected, his dad is frowning at a section of collapsed wall, a mortar board piled high with badly-mixed mortar in one hand and a brick trowel in the other. 

“Fucking hell, dad,” Calum says, jogging up and snatching the mortar board out of his hands, making his dad whip around in surprise.

“Hello to you too,” he says mildly. “How was Cornwall?” 

“Great,” Calum says, and takes a step back so his dad won’t smell the booze on him. “What the fuck are you doing to the wall?” 

“I saved the bricks that fell out,” his dad, gesturing at a haphazard pile a few metres away. “I was going to use those to fix it.” 

“Not with this, you weren’t,” Calum says, brandishing the mortar. “I’ll mix some more tomorrow. And you can’t be laying bricks in the rain.” His dad looks up at the sky. 

“It’s just drizzle,” he says.

“It’s enough,” Calum says. His dad looks at him for a moment, wavering between son, if I say the wall needs fixing the wall needs fixing and you do actually know what you’re doing, before sighing and holding his hands up in defeat. 

“Fine,” he says. “But your mum will have my balls if it’s not done first thing tomorrow.” 

“She’ll have your balls if you do it in the rain and it falls apart again in three weeks, too,” Calum tells him.

“At least I’ll get three extra weeks with my balls, then,” his dad says as they make their way back inside, and Calum snorts.  

“That was quick,” he hears his mum shout from the kitchen, a little reprovingly, as Calum sets the mortar board down on the table. He’ll deal with it later. 

“It’s raining,” Calum shouts back. 

“It’s what?” his mum calls, turning down the upbeat, almost disco song playing on the radio.

“It’s raining,” Calum repeats. “Can’t lay bricks in the rain.” 

“It’s only drizzling.” 

“D’you want to go and fucking do it, then?” Calum says, exasperated, and his mum pops her head out of the kitchen with a frown. 

“Calum,” she reprimands, and he sighs. He needs to fucking shower, and then sleep for about seven years until his liver’s had a chance to process at least half of the shit he’s ingested over the past few weeks. 

“Sorry,” he says, and he means it. “I’m going to go and shower.” His mum nods, and her head disappears again, and he hears the radio turn up again. The song’s finishing up, something about how it always should be someone you really love, and Calum finds himself nodding along as he heads for the stairs and picks up his bags. It’s catchy, he thinks, and not like anything he’s heard in a while. Maybe he should recommend it to Noel; he could do with nicking ideas off someone other than Paul McCartney once in a while. 

“And that was Blur, with Girls and Boys,” the radio host announces as the song starts to fade out, and Calum’s fingers slip in the handle of the bag in his right hand, causing it to fall on his foot. He curses under his breath, trying to think about the pain rather than the way his heart’s skipped a beat. 

“Calum?” his mum calls from the kitchen. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, mum, sorry,” he shouts back, wincing and flexing his foot, steadying himself on the banister with his now-free hand as he tries to listen to the radio over the pounding in his ears. Another song’s started now, though, and Calum shakes himself out of it, picking up the bag and heading up the stairs to have an excuse for his racing heart and heavy breathing. 

It feels fucking weird, he thinks, dumping his bags on the floor of his room and throwing himself down on the bed, to have heard Michael without hearing him. He would have paid more attention to the song if he’d known he was listening to Michael’s fingers pick out those notes. He can still hear the riff in his mind, bouncing around as it tries to find its way out but enclosed in a bubble of Michael like a good portion of Calum’s thoughts have been for the past few weeks. It doesn’t feel quite right, though, Michael’s guitar playing on Calum’s radio in Manchester. It feels like Mike, not Michael, and the thought makes him feel a little queasy. 

He rolls over, staring at the blank wall in front of him as he waits for his heart to slow down. Always should be someone you really love, the guy - what was it, Damon? - had sung. It feels like a fucking joke, now, leaves a bitter taste in Calum’s mouth that that line is the first he’s heard of Michael in five fucking years. It’s like the universe is just having its way with him and laughing about it. 

(It was serendipity, I think, Damon had said in the article, but Calum tries not to let the idea cross his mind.) 

 -------

 Supersonic is, in fact, as Liam and Noel crow at least five times a day, fucking mega. 

The single comes out in early April, when they’re in Middlesbrough, or maybe Stoke, or maybe Leeds - somewhere northern, cold, wet, and miserable. It’s played on the radio a few times, and it makes something warm spread from Calum’s heart to his toes every time he can pick out his own bass, every time he hears Noel’s lazy solo, Liam’s gravelly drawl, Bonehead’s overdriven chords. Even Tony’s drumming makes him grin, giddy on the high that’s him, them, him and his three best mates (and Tony) coming together to create something that, fuck whatever the charts say, sounds fucking good. It’s raw and it’s rough around the edges and it’s melodic and it’s dirty, and it’s ‘fucking rock ‘n’ roll’ if Liam ever gets half a second to comment on it, but, more than all of that, it’s them and Calum loves it. 

It doesn’t do amazingly, but none of them even care, because they know it’s good. Noel’s already busy arguing with Marcus at the record label about whether Shakermaker or Live Forever should be the next single, shouting at him on the phone whenever they get somewhere with a payphone. The tour’s going well, too; there’s not been a venue they haven’t sold out yet, and the crowd actually know all the songs, now, screaming out the words whenever Liam takes a break for a swig of beer. 

They’re playing Glastonbury in June, which Noel seems to think is the fucking be all and end all of their entire career despite the fact that they’ve released one album. He’s taken it upon himself to ensure that every waking minute that they’re not playing shows or off their heads on whatever substances they’ve been able to put up their noses is spent with him telling them in minute detail exactly how he’s going to skin them alive if they miss one more beat or hit the wrong string one more time. Even Liam isn’t safe, despite his lack of a proper instrument, after missing one of the higher notes in Supersonic one night in Liverpool. Calum’s never believed in God, but he thinks the fact that he was rooming with Tony and the brothers were rooming with each other that night, screaming at each other out of Calum's earshot, might be evidence of divine intervention. 

Further potential evidence for the existence of God comes in the form of an invitation to an awards show to be held in early June, which is the only thing that could possibly have appeased Noel. It doesn’t stop him shouting at Liam for fucking breathing, or whatever it happens to be that hour, but it placates him enough to keep the band together, which is what matters. He starts writing like crazy, and by late May already has six songs that he claims are good enough for their second album, and Calum’s floored when Noel rips the curtain to his bunk open one night and shoves an unfinished song at him with a look on his face that says if you fucking tell anyone about this, I’ll have your balls. I’ll fucking have them. 

(“D’you think me growing up in Australia brings a different perspective to the band?” Calum had asked the previous day, thinking of the interview he’d read with Damon, and Noel had snorted, not even looking up from his guitar. 

“Do I fuck,” he’d said. “I’m the fucking genius here. Why, ‘s someone been telling you you’re important? Do I need to remind you that you barely even play an instrument?” Calum rolls his eyes and flips him off, but it settles his stomach a little to know that Noel's not giving him the songs because of some abstract musical perspective, but because of his talent. And, maybe, because Noel might just be a little fond of him.) 

The awards show isn’t anything huge, not NME or anyone that Liam thinks matters, but Noel tells them that it’s the principle, that the fact that they’re being nominated for awards is what counts, and that they’ll fucking well show up. Liam still looks like he’s going to argue about it, probably just because his instinct to do the opposite of whatever Noel tells him overrides even his survival instinct, but he grudgingly agrees to go when Calum reminds him about all the free alcohol that’s sure to be there. 

The ceremony’s much bigger than Calum had expected, held in a theatre that’s had the stalls cleared out to make room for tables for artists and their teams to sit at. They’re shown to a table on the far right of the room, and Calum sees names like Elastica and Björk on the tables they pass on their way, which makes him think that this might actually be a bigger deal than they’d thought it was. Their table is tucked away in a corner, which Calum thinks probably isn’t a good sign, but can’t bring himself to care that much about when he sees the three bottles of champagne waiting for them. 

They’re tipsy before the show’s even begun, barely even noticing the room filling behind them as they call for more champagne, grinning and yelling at each other across the table as they all think fuck me, we’re really doing this, then? Even Noel somehow manages to dislodge the stick from his arse and laugh along when Liam starts heckling every single act that wins an award. It’s just fucking fun, Calum thinks, watching Noel and Liam put their arms around each other and yell the lyrics to Creep as Radiohead win an award, changing out half of the words for increasingly creative variants of words for certain parts of the male anatomy. It’s just a good fucking time with his best mates. 

Liam’s so caught up in the heckling, yelling rubbish! Fucking rubbish! before the winners have even been announced, and they’re all so caught up in laughing at him that they don’t even realise they’ve won an award until Marcus glares at them pointedly, and they realise that the reason they suddenly can’t see properly is because there’s a spotlight on them.

“Best live act!” Noel shouts, grinning, and Calum shoots up and out of his seat and is hugging Noel and Bonehead, jumping up and down, before he can even think about it. Best live act, fucking hell. 

“Rubbish!” Liam’s yelling, sounding absolutely irate. “Fucking rubbi- oh, that’s us.” He stands up calmly, flashing Marcus a winning smile as he walks past on his way to the stage, and the rest of them follow in his wake. 

“Best fucking live act,” Noel repeats, like he can’t quite believe it. Their first fucking award. "That's all me, that is." 

“You wanker, you’re rubbish,” Liam tells him, as they jog up the stairs onto the stage. “You can’t even play the guitar.” Noel cuffs him upside the head, but he’s still grinning, and Liam grins back at him as they walk over to accept their awards, shake a lot of sweaty hands, and make their acceptance speech.

“Right, then, who’s first then?” Liam says, leaning into the microphone and pulling his sunglasses down to survey the crowd. “It’s gotta be you there with that weird haircut. How many haircuts you got there, four?” He leans back as the crowd laughs, looking deadpan, but Calum can see the way his lips twitch as he soaks up the laughter and smattering of applause. Calum shakes his head, grinning, and looks out at the sea of faces looking back at him, trying to really absorb the moment, anchor himself so he’ll remember it tomorrow despite the champagne. There are a few people he recognises, which feels fucking insane - that’s fucking Robbie Williams, over there, presumably sat with the rest of the blokes from Take That whose names he doesn’t know, and he thinks he can make out the singer of Radiohead in the corner, and there’s the frontwoman of Elastica, and next to her is that Damon guy from Blur, and-

Oh, fuck.

Noel’s moved on to speaking now, a little more seriously than Liam - which isn’t saying much given that he’s currently in the middle of thanking himself for being such a genius and writing such impeccable songs - but the words are washing over Calum as his eyes flit to Damon’s left, taking in the moody-looking dark-haired guy and the ginger guy, and then to his right, a dark-haired guy in glasses and- 

And Michael. 

Calum thinks his legs might fucking give out. Staring back at him, eyes wide and jaw clenched, is Michael. Michael Clifford. His Michael. Fucking hell. 

In the bright lights, Calum can see the tension in Michael’s shoulders, the way he’s sort of hunched into himself, sort of sat up straight, like he’s ready for a fight. He can see the shock on Michael’s face, the underlying hurt and pain in the twist of his lips, the way his fist is clenched on the table. He looks nothing like Calum had ever envisioned when imagining them reuniting, no carefree laughter and bright, joyful eyes. Calum’s sure he doesn’t look much better, lips slightly parted in surprise, pure horror written all over his face, but he can’t bring himself to care when Michael’s right there, in front of him, five years older and five years prettier, making Calum’s heart skip and race like it’s singlehandedly trying to win the fucking World Acrobatics Championship of 1994.

Liam’s taken the mic back off Noel to add a quick thank you to the people who voted for them, and then Noel’s clapping him on the back as they walk offstage, but Calum’s rooted to the fucking spot, can’t take his eyes off Michael. Neither of them are blinking, and as the lights sweep from the audience to them Calum almost loses Michael in the darkness, just sees the slight gleaming of his eyes, still fixed on Calum. 

“Fucking come on,” Noel nigh-on shouts in his ear, startling Calum out of it, and his feet unstick themselves as Noel puts his hand on the small of Calum’s back, guiding him off the stage. Calum tears his gaze away, looks down at his feet so he won’t trip down the stairs, and by the time he’s got to the bottom and is looking out into the sea of faces again, he’s lost Michael. He searches in vain all the way back to their table, trying to map out just how far to the right the Blur table is from the Oasis one based on where it had been in relation to the stage, but then Liam’s in front of him, waving an award in his face and grinning inanely, and Calum’s line of sight is blocked by Bonehead jumping on Liam’s back, and Noel’s shouting something at the three of them through a smile, and Calum’s being forced into his seat. 

The rest of the ceremony passes in a haze. Liam carries on heckling every act that gets up on stage, waving his award around over his head like it’ll somehow further his point, and Noel almost cries laughing at the sight of him until Liam’s fingers slip and the trophy goes flying and hits Noel smack in the face. Even that isn’t enough to get more than the ghost of a smile out of Calum, whose stomach is still twisting, eyes still flitting across the crowd, breath still catching every time a new award is announced just in case Michael will have to walk past their table, traipse up the stairs to their right, look down at Calum from the stage. Blur don’t win anything, though, much to the brothers’ delight, and as soon as they realise it’s winding down Liam’s saying something about an afterparty and trying to get up and leave before the ceremony’s officially ended. Tony grabs his arm and pulls him back down, mutters something about taking photos that both Noel and Liam scoff at, but one look from their management is enough to keep the two of them in their seats, albeit with glowers and grumbles. 

The hosts close the awards in the most long-winded way Calum’s ever seen, and then they’re being ushered into some back room to take photos along with all the other acts. Noel and Liam are drunker than Calum’s seen them in months, shouting and laughing and throwing their arms around each other and pressing kisses to anyone who dares walk within five metres of them, and, seeing how irritated the rest of the acts and the photographer are at their antics, they ramp it up, yelling and screaming and singing until everyone’s shooting them filthy looks and Calum’s almost managing a proper smile. His eyes have been roaming the room since they got in, looking past the miserable looking bloke from Radiohead because he thought he’d seen a flash of blonde that had turned out to be Robbie Williams’ terrible haircut, but either Blur have already been and gone or they’re still hanging around outside. 

“Cal,” Liam shouts, and then Calum’s being pulled into a headlock - quite a fucking feat, actually, because it’s Noel doing the headlocking, and he’s a good half-foot shorter than Calum. “What d'you reckon, eh? Best band on the fucking planet!” 

“Don’t think that was quite what they said,” Calum says, and Noel ruffles his hair before letting him go, just enough that Calum can stand up straight, and wrapping an arm around Calum’s waist. Calum leans into it, a little unsteady from the alcohol and Michael, relishing the comfort of a steady anchor to counter the way he feels so fucking unbalanced from seeing Michael in the flesh again after five years. 

“You’ve got to read between the lines , Cal,” Liam says earnestly. “They might not’ve said it, but it’s what they meant.” 

“Eeyar,” Noel says suddenly, grinning wickedly. “Is that who I think it is?” Liam twists, following Noel’s gaze, and Calum does the same, turning to the door and finding-

“‘S fucking Dermot All-bran!” Liam crows, cackling gleefully as Damon’s eyes flit to the three of them. He smiles, pretty and polite, and heads in their direction, and as he comes through the door with the woman from Elastica in tow, four more people file in behind him - ginger guy, moody guy, glasses guy, and, to the detriment of Calum’s heartbeat, Michael. 

“Congratulations,” Damon calls, nodding at the award in Liam’s hand. He’s almost reached them, and the rest of his band are trailing behind him, and Calum’s heart is beating so fucking fast and loud that he can barely hear Liam screaming next to him over the pounding in his ears as he watches Michael get closer and closer, carefully avoiding Calum’s burning gaze. 

“Fucking right,” Liam says proudly. “Fucking best band in the world, we are. Real rock ‘n’ roll stars. Not like you posh fucking wankers.” The guy in glasses behind Damon rolls his eyes, and something that looks like irritation flashes across Damon’s face, but Calum barely cares. 

Michael’s still not looking at him, all of three feet away, and Calum’s skin is fucking crawling, itching with the desire to reach out and touch him, to force him to look at Calum, to slot their fingers and their legs and their lips together again, just to see if they still fit. Fuck, he shouldn’t have drunk all that champagne.  

“Don’t think we’ve met,” the tall guy says, holding out a hand. “I’m Alex. This is Graham-” glasses guy, who nods tightly, “-and Dave-” ginger guy, who holds up a hand in an awkward wave, “-and you know Damon. And our resident Australian, Mike.” 

“Looks like a cunt,” Liam remarks, and Calum vaguely registers Noel and Bonehead laughing next to him, loud and giddy and a little spiteful. 

“Ours is better than yours, anyway,” Noel says, arm tightening around Calum, somewhere between defensive and proud. Damon raises an eyebrow, a definite challenge in his eyes now. 

“Is that so?” he says, and in the two years since Calum last heard him speak he’s forgotten how different his speaking voice is to how he sings, eloquent and deep and rich. It’s a secondary thought, though, because Calum’s still staring at Michael, willing him to take his eyes off Damon and look at Calum for just one fucking second, but Michael’s face remains carefully blank, and the closest he gets to looking at Calum is sending Liam a scornful glance. 

“Aye, ‘course it is, you prick,” Liam says, brash and careless, and Damon turns to Calum. 

“Calum, isn’t it?” he says. Calum tears his gaze away from Michael for a moment, enough to see the way Damon’s holding himself, and that whatever Calum says next is going to form Damon’s entire opinion of him. 

“Yeah,” Calum says, aiming for bold and confident to match Liam, because that’s where his loyalties lie now, and hopes no one else can hear how dry his throat is. 

“Didn’t you have a mate in Sydney called Calum?” Damon says, almost idly, turning to Michael. “Was he the one that moved to the UK?” Calum watches the line of Michael’s throat as he swallows, and tries not to superimpose the bruises his lips had left there the night before he’d left Australia for the first and last time on top of it. 

“Yeah,” he says, and Calum’s heart fucking splinters at the sound of his voice. Even in that one syllable, he can hear his Michael, the same tone and sound and depth, but there’s a new edge to it, something slower and more controlled than the wild seventeen-year-old Calum had left behind. The years without Calum have added a gloss to him, a new confidence in his voice and his expression and how he holds himself, and Calum just wants Michael to fucking look at him.

Fuck it, he thinks - or maybe the champagne thinks for him - and he swallows. 

“Hey, Michael,” he says quietly, and all hell breaks loose. 

taglist: @callmeboatboy @sadistmichael @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @haikucal @queer-5sos @i-am-wierd-always @stupidfukimgspam @bloodyoathcal @pixiegrl @pxrxmoore @currentlyupcalsass @clumthood

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chapter three

[its-me-im-coraline]

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

[glassartpeasants]

That ending was a stab on the heart from beginning to end I'm gonna steal bob 🏃🏾‍♀️

The One That Got Away

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, death

A/N: Don’t threaten Bob

~~~

The bed felt different after that night.

2 months ago you had caught Shigaraki cheating on you with someone random woman. You stood in the doorway just watching, trying to find the words to say but nothing came out. It’s only when you dropped your groceries and your present to him is when he noticed your presence.

*flashback*

“Shit! (Y/N) it’s not what it looks like-” He tripped over his words. You said nothing as you just looked at him, knowing that no matter how much you loved him that there was nothing that could ever make you forget this.

“Fuck just say something!” You were still silent as you dropped the groceries you were holding. It just wasn’t clicking for you. How could he do this to you? what had you done wrong?

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice seemed to echo throughout the room. Nobody said anything. Until she spoke up.

“Oh my god, Im so sorry! I didn’t know he was taken! Please forgive me.” The girl spoke as she jumped outta bed and started putting her clothes on.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Those words spilled from your mouth before you could actually say anything you meant. The girl had hugged you before saying she was so sorry a final time. Flipping off Shiggy on the way out.

“(Y/N)...i promise we can talk about this.” You just kept looking at him. Those eyes seemed to burn into his soul. He doesn’t think you noticed the tears spilling from your eyes. He was about to say something to you but you started to walk towards him. Thinking he was gonna get hit he just stood still before feeling your part of the bed dip.

He turns around to see you laying there, eyes still open with tears rushing down your face, your clothes of the day still on your body.

Shigaraki tried to put his arms around you but you had hit his hands back. and used your feet to push him to the edge of the bed while you laid clung to the wall.

*flashback over*

Thinking back on it you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. Maybe you were to tired from being busy and running errands for him all day? Did you want it to be a bad dream and hope to walk up to realize nothing ever happened? Whatever the reason was, you weren’t sure but a part of you wishes that you left that night.

Now you sit at the bar, sitting far away from what use to be your boyfriend, not even taking a glimpse of him and he knew it. You just sat in the corner drinking and looking on your phone until a familiar smell approached you. 

“Oh hey Dabi.”

“Hey there (Y/N), why aren’t you hanging out with crusty over there? He keeps staring at you and the tension in here could be cut with a knife. It’s been two months and apparently everyone said i should ask what's going on.”

“Im not going near him at the moment. We’re on a break per say.” this seemed to peak Dabi’s interest as he leaned closer.

“Oh? Did crusty do something?  Your secret's safe with me, i swear on my soul.” What did it matter if you told Dabi? He already doesn’t respect Shigaraki so why not, plus, so what if that fuck didn’t want anyone knowing, he shouldn’t have cheated when everyone else was sleeping in the base.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you but, 2 months ago I caught Shigaraki cheating on me...” You felt small tears prickle the corner of your eyes. Bringing your hand up to your face you rub it away, hoping to ignore the pain that was banging against your chest.

“What a dick, wanna make him pay?” You look up at Dabi who had a huge grin on his face. You thought about it for a good few seconds before shaking each others hand.

“Once Shigaraki goes out on that mission today, we’ll talk more.” Dabi said before getting up from his seat and grabbing a drink from the bar.

You didn’t know what Dabi had planned but you hoped it would bring Shigaraki the same pain you felt that fateful night 2 months ago.

~~~

You sat on the ground in Dabi’s room as he paced back in forth, coming up with revenge plans. All of them sucked or ended up with you guys might going to Jail.

“New plan, everytime Shigaraki wants to hang out tell him you had plans with me and leave the room. You can go somewhere and i’ll go somewhere with you. Effectively ditching him.” Thinking, you try to come up with all the pros and cons this proposal Dabi shared with you. But soon your hurt over ruled the logical side of you and you agreed to it not a moment later.

“Great! Now all we need is for Shigaraki to ask to hang out with you. Don’t know how long that’ll take though...”

“I usually ignore him after what happened but sometimes he asks to hang out with me whenever its a slow day at the base or if he’s bored.”

“ Well guess we have to wait tell then huh?” Nodding your head, you get up before putting a thumbs up in his direction. You walked out of his room and see Shigaraki sitting at the bar. He must have finished his mission early. You rolled your eyes before sitting on the other side of the bar counter. You could feel shigaraki look at you through father.

“Hey....”

“.....”

“Look im sorry, a-and i know that doesn’t excuse what I did but please-” You got up before he could finishing his sentence as you walked towards your shared bedroom. Going in there use to give you comfort but now everytime you step into that room you see that fateful night over and over again.

You sat on the bed before hearing Shigaraki’s footsteps coming towards the room. Furrowing your brows, you ignore him as you put your shoes on. You needed a little bit of fresh air so you were planning on going to the local park to relax a bit. You weren’t a villain like the rest of them, you were just a simple civilian. Not that you minded really. It was peaceful not fearing for your life everyday and having the fear of failure not on your shoulders.

You didn’t really have a quirk so you just ignored the questions when people asked you if you had one. 

“Can I talk to you?” You were dragged back to reality when Shigaraki’s voice rang through your ears. Annoyed you just answered hoping that the conversation would be short. 

“What do you want?” You voice was snappy and you could feel the venom dripping from it.

“I understand that your mad. And you have every right to be but your not even giving me a chance to redeem myself and-”

“Redeem yourself? Why the hell would I do that? YOU cheated on ME. LIke hell im gonna forgive you so easily.”

“It’s been two months! What happened was in the past!”

“It was in the past my ass. How would you like it to see your lover in bed with another?!”

“I-”

“I felt like my soul died that day. I thought I was your only one! Only to find out that you slept with her! Was she a one time thing or were there more hookups?!” You stood up from the bed as your fists turned white and your anger slowly erupting.

“.....”

“TELL ME DAMNIT!”

“Three...there were three different occasions...” Now the tears were kicking in. You were hoping that it wasn’t true. What if there was more and he was only saying three just to ease your heart?

“Why? Why would you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?” Your questions were like knives stabbing into Shigaraki’s heart. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he didn’t want your heart to hurt more than it already was.

“Im not going to ask again Shigaraki. You either tell me the truth or I will walk out of this base and never come back.”

“The...the first time it was a drunk accident, the second time Dabi had brought her to the base and one thing led to another. The last one was the same as the second one.”

“Did...did Dabi know about the affair?” You were begging, no pleading for him not to have known. You didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“Yes...” That was it. That was the thing that broke you. Walking up to Shigaraki you pushed past him before flipping him off and saying one final line.

“I would rather die that ever be with you again.” And with that, you left the hideout. You speed walked through the alleys to get to you parked your car. Your friends house was pretty far and you didn’t feel like walking in the dead of night were criminal activity was more active. 

Getting in your car, you turn on the radio and start breaking down. Your tears were blurring your eyesight as you put the car in drive. 

The streets weren’t busy except for the occasion car with some college students. Or drunk people walking along the sidewalk. The sound of the radio blasting songs that were supposed to be happy barley brightened up your mood as you drove down the dark highways.

All of a sudden a bright light hit your eyes from the right side. Some fuck must have had their brights on. But you had the right away so you went. All of a sudden a huge crash rang through your ears and the world became dark.

~~~

A ring came from Shigaraki’s phone. Looking at the clock he noticed it to be 2am. Annoyed he just decided to answer it.

“Hello, this is (hospital name). You were listed under a emergency contact for (Y/N) (L/N).” Shigaraki jolted awake as his hands reached his neck, standing up and already begun to pace the floor of his room.

“Yes did something happen?!”

“At 12am tonight miss (Y/N) was in a car crash. A hit and run to be exact. Their car was totalled after it rolled about 3 times from the speed that the driver hit them. A bystander of the accident called 119. They were in need of surgery immediately once paramedics noticed that they were crushed and bleeding out quickly due to a shard of glass that was stabbed in their chest.”

“Are they okay?!” The doctor on the other end went silent.

“Im deeply sorry for your lost sir. They died during surgery trying to remove the glass that was lodged in their skin. The police are on the look for the suspect. if you wish to see them were on (blank street). Once again, im sorry for your loss. Goodnight sir.” The phone went silent as the doctor hung up. 

Everything seemed to stop as the feared villain feel to his knees. Tears fell from his eyes as his body shook. He realized that now it was impossible to even try. And the last words you had ever said were ‘ you’d rather die than ever be with him again.’ Crying into his hands as his tears made a puddle on the floor.

I guess you took your words seriously.

[kerie-prince]

forgotten birthdays

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (anon) Hiii, can I request something aangsty with Fred Weasley and slytherin reader? Like he got mad for something, maybe jealousy bc reader was spending much time with her house mates and he ignores her or says mean things to her but with a happy ending please 🥺

warnings: language

summary: Fred has his suspicions about your best friend and on the day of your birthday, he crosses the line which causes you to rethink your relationship

a/n: yoo this was hard to write for a quick second lol i hope you enjoy ~ plus, i got a new job so i'm in training and i'm so excited bc i've been wanting this job for so long (y/n/n = your nickname)

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

It was getting irritating.

You love Fred with all your heart, but he needed to stop being jealous. Marcus Flint was, is, and always will just be a friend of yours. You two grew up together and are nearly attached to the hip. Never once had you two of you flirted or done anything together. It was purely platonic, but Fred insisted there was something.

And going to Marcus’ prefect dorm after every fight probably didn't help your cause all that well, but he's your best friend. Who else would you talk to? You didn't have many girlfriends and when Fred introduced you to Angelina, you had gotten into a big fight for no reason. But you never asked him to stop hanging out with her even though you wanted to.

You could tell she liked Fred, but you were confident enough to know that Fred would never do you wrong like that. So why does he think that of you? Why does he get to hang out with Angelina, but he gets angry when you barely say two words to Marcus?

It was hard, but you’d work it out and still love each other at the end of the day. But then your birthday came around, and you’d just about had it.

You woke up in a good mood; the river sent in flowing rays of sunlight. Not too blinding, but not too dim either. This would be the second time celebrating your birthday with your boyfriend and if last year was amazing, you couldn't wait to see what Fred had planned for you today.

You took your time getting ready; you put on more make-up than usual and rather than tying your hair up with a clip as you always did, you let it down and fixed some strays to better frame your face. When you walked into the common room, your best friend snuck up behind you and yelled in your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!”

Your natural response was to duck down and cover your ears. You hated when he did that, but you still appreciate the sentiment. You punched his arm as you laughed. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah, then why did I laugh?” Marcus joked. Malfoy and his friends were behind him chuckling, all boys greeting you and wishing you a happy birthday. Marcus flung his arm around your shoulder and walked with you to get breakfast.

Once in the Great Hall, you saw Fred and his friends all laughing at the Gryffindor table and just when you were about to break free from Marcus’ hold, he pulled you back, “Oh no you don’t. You have all day to hang out with Weasley and company, but right now, you are gonna have at least one meal with your best friend.” You weren't going to argue; you didn't want to. If you wanted to sit with Fred, you wouldn't have to put up a fight, you would just do it. At your Slytherin table were Marcus’ other friends, Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs. You sat in between them and pulled your hood up when they started embarrassing you by singing a birthday song. It was starting to be a great day.

However, across the Hall was Fred glaring daggers at your best friends’ arm around you. He couldn't hear what was going on, either due to the fact that you were pretty far from where he sat, or from jealous rage. “Freddie, you alright?” George asked his brother. “Yeah, just fine, Georgie.” He couldn't stand Flint. He would be enraged with every glance towards you, every whisper in your ear during class, and every time he made you laugh. Fred was sure that Flint was in love with you, but because you grew up with him you were too blind to see it. He was convinced that at any given moment, your ‘best friend’ would take advantage of you.

What also made him upset is that not only did you let Flint wrap his arm around you, you didn't even come say hi to your boyfriend. You always came every morning to his table to give him a morning kiss and sometimes even sat at the Gryffindor table.

In potions class, you sat and waited for your boyfriend to come through the doors. You weren't sure what to expect from him. Fred is an absolute wild card and could come through those doors with anything. And no matter what he brought, he’d for sure get in trouble with Snape.

When he walked through the doors with his brother and Lee, you sat up straight in your seat and waved at him. He saw you, but instead of smiling at you and taking the seat next to yours, he just looked away and sat on the other side of the room. Did something happen? You chose to ignore it until lunch rolled around and he still hadn't come up to you to even say ‘hi’ to you. Had he forgotten your birthday? It could happen, but that doesn't explain why he looked to be in a bad mood.

Once your classes were finished, you walked up the changing stairs and said the password to the Gryffindor dorms. You remembered the updated password your boyfriend gave you the week before and it was your first time using it today.

You didn't know what to expect to see; you secretly wished that today was just a big prank and Fred had actually planned a surprise party of some sort. But when you stepped foot into the room filled with tones of red and gold, there was no party. Just Fred laughing with his friends like normal. Normal without you.

Lee’s laugh died down when he noticed you walking up to Fred. He noticed Lee getting quiet all of a sudden and asked him, “Why are you quiet all of a sudden?” He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around. “What are you doing in here?”

“Why, are Slytherins not allowed inside?” you joked. Your voice was slightly quiet and had a slight sad tone to it. “I missed you today, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. I've just been busy. Like you have,” Fred didn't mean to sound so bitter, but he was getting tired of it. He was tired of being second best to Flint.

“What are you talking about?” you asked.

“You've been with Flint all day,” Fred explained himself. You rolled your eyes, two fingers grabbing the temple of your nose from it suddenly starting to become irritated like you were. “Merlin, this again? Freddie, we talked about this. Marcus is just a friend. He's my best friend.”

Fred scoffed, “Y/N/N, you may think that but he doesn't. You trust him too much to see it, but I do. He's not just a friend.”

“You’re friends with Angelina when you know she likes you. And I know it too, but I don't say anything because I don't want to be that girlfriend who controls her boyfriends,” you were tired of playing this game with him. Your voice was heard by everyone in the room and soon enough, tons of peers had all eyes on you. Some either decided to stay, and some like Neville decided to head straight into their dorm rooms and lock the door for safety.

“Me being friends with Angelina is nothing like you being friends with Flint and you know that,” Fred raised his voice louder than anyone’s probably heard him. George and Lee silently guided people out of the common room and up to the dorms. Some people looked over the stairs to get a view of the commotion downstairs. One of them being Angelina herself when she heard her name being called out.

“No you’re right, it's different because he’s not pining over me and waiting for me to become available,” your arms were flailing about in anger, pointing at nothing to put emphasis in your words.

“How many times do I have to say I don’t like Ang? It’s never going to happen!” Angelina heard from up the staircase. Everyone heard him, loud and clear. She ran into her dorm and slammed the door so hard that you could feel the walls shake. “Great,” Fred sighed in frustration. It wasn't the ideal way to let someone down. He intended on talking to her in private without listening ears so she wouldn't be embarrassed.

“I'm not saying you like Angelina. I know you don’t like Angelina. What I’m saying is that you’re wrong about Marcus. I know he doesn't like me, you're just acting insecure,” you yelled back at him..

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to see he has feelings for you, Y/N/N,” Fred yelled, “I see the way he looks at you in every class and in the Hall. But you’re too fucking stupid to see–,” he immediately stopped what he was saying.

You couldn't believe what he was telling you right now. You could handle him calling you naive, but stupid? This was low, even for him.

You were getting stares from everyone in the common room. Your pride was more than hurt in this moment; it was destroyed. No words came from your mouth as you were completely still in your seat on the couch. Your nails dug into your skin as it was formed into a tight fist. But the worst of all was that your lips were quivering and you had to fight the tears on your birthday.

Your fucking birthday.

“Well if it bothers you so much, then fine. I'll fix the problem,” you started to speak low for only him to hear you.

“How?”

“I’ll end the problem,” a single tear escaped and trailed down your cheeks. This was the last thing you wanted to do today, but you couldn't take it anymore. He was scared to ask, but his ego got in the way, “And what's the problem?”

“Us,” you stated. He started saying something, but you couldn't hear it as you left. No, you actively ignored everything he was saying at that point. The second you were outside, you started bawling. And you kept at it all the way to the Slytherin common room and into your room.

You paced around your room rubbing your hands on your arms to try and calm yourself down, but nothing was working. Before you even processed it, your legs took you to Marcus’ room without second thought. You continuously knocked on his door until he answered, shirtless and with sweatpants that looked like they were just thrown on.

“Listen, I know it’s your birthday but that doesn't mean that you can do whatever you want–,” he focused in on your face and saw your red cheeks and puffy eyes. You looked behind him and there was a girl with him who sat in his bed looking curious. He looked back to her and just simply ordered, “Out,” which got her moving in seconds.

Once she was gone, he pulled you in and shut his door. Marcus guided you to a black leather chair in his room. “Sit,” his voice was stern, but never harsh with you. “What happened?”

As if by cue, you broke down completely. “It's o-o-over.”

“What is?” he questioned. But piecing it together, there's only one reason you'd be this upset in his room.

He never really knew what to do in situations like when you'd have your usual arguments, always just telling you that everything will be fine and you and Fred would be fine in the morning.

But now, he was feeling two things. One, slight heartache that his best friend is upset in front of him and two, nearly absolute rage that Fred is such an idiot.

Marcus started rubbing your back, “Hey, look at me.” When you shook your head no, he gently tapped on your shoulders until you did. “You are gonna be fine. Okay? You will be fine. There's plenty of other guys here–”

“I don't want to be with other guys, Marcus. I want Fred. I love Fred. But,” you shrugged up both hands, “I don't know. I don't know.” Your best friend pulled you in for a hug.

“Hey, sleep here tonight. You shouldn't be alone right now, especially today.” You nodded your head and kept crying until you couldn't anymore.

—

“HEY!” Marcus’ voice traveled beyond the corridors. Students were fleeing left and right to move out of his way as he made a straight line towards the group of Gryffindors who sat around a tree outside.

Before they could react to what was going on, Marcus punched one of the tall gingers in his abdomen. “OW, what was that for?!”

“You're going to apologize to Y/N right now,” Marcus demanded.

“You idiot, I'm George,” he corrected, still bent over and leaning on Lee for balance. “Shit, sorry.” Marcus looked at Fred and punched him in the same area quicker before Fred could block it. “You're going to apologize to Y/N.”

With a strain in his voice, Fred looked at the Slytherin in front of him, “What for, she broke up with me.”

“Okay, why? Because you're pathetic and insecure.”

“Is that what she told you?” Fred straightened himself up rubbing on the pain. “Of course she told you, she tells you everything.”

“Yeah, why wouldn't she? I'm her cousin,” Marcus pointed out. If he wasn't so mad, he would laugh at Fred's look of astonishment.

“No, you have different family names. And you don't even look related,” Fred wasn't buying it.

“That's because when I was eight, my dad married her aunt. I'm still her cousin,” Marcus explained.

“She never told me anything, how was I supposed to know?” Fred complained. George and his other friends left the two to argue by themselves but stood at a close enough distance to hear the conversation and be able to jump in if it were to get violent.

“Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you would actually pay attention to her,” Marcus used his pointer finger to push against Fred’s forehead which caused the ginger to swat his hand away. “So get over whatever complex you have and apologize. If I'm being honest, there's plenty of Slytherins that can treat her better but she wants you for some reason.”

Fred knew he was right. And it was that reason why he always felt the way he did. You were enamored by many housemates, all handsome and rich. But you didn't like any of them. You love Fred. You love the lanky, devious, modestly handsome, funny Gryffindor more than anyone you've ever met.

Fred didn't say anything and walked away. His brother was asking where he was going but he didn't answer. Before he was out of Marcus’ sight, the Slytherin said one last thing, “By the way, I hope you know it was her birthday yesterday.”

Fuck. He picked up his pace and ran towards the dungeons. Halfway there, he figured that he didn't want to show up empty handed, so he made a detour to the greenhouse to 'borrow’ some flowers from Sprout’s personal garden.

You sat on one of the couches in your common room. Across from you was Adrian and Terence, arguing about some Ravenclaw girl. Some younger students passed by and whispered amongst themselves to which you didn't pay any mind to until you heard a third year say something about a Weasley being outside.

You knew it wasn't Ron because after his second year break in with Harry, he vowed that he'd never do it again. You stood up and nearly sprinted outside.

Fred was standing awkwardly outside. He tried to get a student to ask for you to come outside but they would all just scrunch their noses in disgust and keep walking. “Annoying little–”

“What are you doing here?” you asked. Your arms were crossed and you slouched your shoulders a bit. Fred noticed how your cheeks were swollen and the bags under your eyes were tinted a rosy pink. In his left hand, there was a single, large sunflower. He raised it in front of you, hoping you would accept it. “You know I’m allergic to those, right?”

Fred’s eyes bulged out. There is no way I didn't know this. Figuring he’s had enough torture, you spoke again, “I’m joking.”

“O-oh. Heh.” You grabbed the flower from him. “I’m… really sorry. I was such an arse–”

“You are an arse,” you corrected. “Yeah, you’re right. I should have trusted Flint. I should have trusted you. And if you’d let me, I want to prove that I do.”

You released a deep sigh and rubbed your forehead. “Freddie. You have to mean it this time. I can't keep going back and forth with you like this. You can't throw a fit every time I hang out with Marcus. Or Adrian. Or Terence.”

“So is that a yes?” Fred persisted. You looked at him properly in his eyes; he seemed sincere this time. And you could only hope that he was. With a nod of your head, Fred broke into smiles and picked you up from the floor and twirled you around. Your head was still sore from all the crying the night before, but you still had a smile on your face.

When he put you down, he took the hand that wasn't holding the flower and walked with you to the Great Hall for food. “So when were you going to tell me that Flint is your cousin?”

“I figured you’d find out at a family gathering or something had you waited a little longer.” He pinched your nose in response, “And you call me devious.”

—

requests open!

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ San- Confessions (oneshot)

Genre: Angst, fluff, suggestive, high school au, enemies to lovers au.

Pairing: San x Reader (fem)

Warnings: profanities, alcohol.

On a scale of one to ten, you'd rate your life at your prestigious boarding school a nine.

You loved KQ Academy: a boarding school for the rich, spoiled brats of the country. The teachers were highly experienced and the other staff were really nice. The cafeteria food was great and the vending machines always had your favorite drinks. The bathrooms were clean and the classrooms, laboratories, and other activity rooms were large and spacious. There were three different sports fields, a large swimming pool, and a large athletics field. The dormitories were also really comfortable and overall impressive. Basically, your school was lit.

So why did you rate your great life here a nine? Two words: Choi San.

San was the only person here who got on your nerves. Not only was he a rich, spoiled brat, but he was also the most popular guy at school and the captain of the volleyball team. His pretty face screamed of nothing but trouble... for you.

You don't understand why San doesn't like you; ever since he joined your school in ninth grade, you both never got along despite being in the same friend group. Your friends tried their best to make you both decently talk to each other, but they gave up eventually when it clearly wasn't working; you both always argued about the smallest, stupidest things.

"Should I get another piercing?" Hongjoong asked, opening his strawberry yogurt.

"Where?" Yunho questioned. "Please, not on your ear! Let the poor thing breathe!" You chuckled, glancing at the many piercings on your twin brother's ears.

"I swear Hongjoong hyung is a masochist," Yeosang stated, making Mingi and Wooyoung burst out laughing.

"And he likes exhibitionism," Seonghwa said. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, quietly eating his yogurt; he was used to everyone teasing him.

"Hey guys!" you heard Choi San greet before he took his usual seat beside Wooyoung. You glanced at him, immediately noticing his disheveled hair and swollen lips.

"Oh god, San, who was it now?" Eunhee, Hongjoong's girlfriend, questioned.

"Na Yuri," San said with a smirk. "She took me behind the auditorium. There were no cameras there." You heard Jiwoo mumble a 'not surprise' from beside you, making you chuckle.

"And you managed to get off in less than five minutes?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

San fake gasped in shock. "What! Wooyoung, you know I don't fuck these girls. I've only made out with them."

"What, really?" Jongho asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I haven't slept with anyone other than my ex, Jina," San said, taking a bite of Yeosang's ice cream sandwich, earning a glare from the boy. You were quite surprised at this new information; the entire school thought San fucked a new chick every week. You wondered why he never said anything about it despite all the false claims.

"Y/N," you heard someone call you, catching all your friends' attention. You saw Kim Yonghee approach you with the sweetest smile on his face. He handed you your notebook that you had given him two days ago. "Thank you so much. Your notes really helped."

"You aced your test?"

He smirked. "Of course." He opened his mouth to say something, but one of his friends called him for football practice. "Well, I'll see you in math," he said with a wink before walking away.

"Oh, someone's blushing!" Eunhee teased.

Yunho chuckled. "Wow, Y/N, I wonder what's got you all pink."

"Yonghee is so fucking cute! I kinda want to date him," you squealed, earning a scoff from an unamused San. Yeosang raised an eyebrow at San who only shrugged. "Do you have an issue, San?" you asked, annoyed by his reaction.

"No, why would I?"

"Well, your reaction doesn't seem like it."

"Why would I care about you and that piece of shit?" he spat, looking away.

"You don't even know him!" your voice was raising.

"Here we go again," Yeosang muttered under his breath.

San glared at you. "As if you know about the way he screws around with—"

"So what? I'd rather be with someone like him than with someone like you," you stated in a cold tone. San's face fell, but he immediately put his pokerface on.

Seonghwa sighed. "Can you two stop fighting for once?"

"It's his fault," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No, it's yours," San retorted. "You could've ignored me."

You were about to say something, but the bell rang. You glared at San before dragging Wooyoung and Mingi with you to your next class.

A month later, you ended up in an FWB relationship with Kim Yonghee. So far, things were going really well.

You were at Seonghwa and Hongjoong's dorm with everyone. You noticed how San has been really quiet and sulky these past few days. Despite always arguing with him, you felt worried for him. You wanted to ask him if he was all right, but you knew he'd just roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.

You nudged Yunho who was sitting beside you. "Is San all right?" you whispered in his ear.

Yunho shook his head. "No, he's not okay. I don't know what happened, and he said he doesn't want to talk about it." You nodded, but you felt like Yunho was lying to you.

"Y/N, how are things going on between you and Yonghee?" Mingi asked.

"Good," you answered with a smile. "He's an absolute gentleman."

"Yeah, I could tell from last night," Eunhee teased, making you choke on nothing in particular, wondering how she found out about you sneaking Yonghee into your suite style dorm. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Y/N."

San slammed his can of sprite on the table, startling a few of you. "Sorry, I'm a little tired," he mumbled. "Yunho, I'm going to our room. I'll see you all tomorrow." You noticed Wooyoung and Seonghwa share a glance before Seonghwa nodded.

"I'm heading back as well. Good night guys," Seonghwa said, quickly getting up and following San. There was clearly something up with San and you really wanted to find out.

-

While you were having lunch with your friends, Yonghee came to your table. He kissed you gently, earning an 'aww' from Eunhee and Jiwoo.

"Hey, hey, hey, no kissing in front of her older brother," Hongjoong said sternly. You rolled your eyes; he was only older by eight minutes.

"Sorry, man," Yonghee chuckled. "Here," he handed you a few sheets. "Seunghun told me to give this to you. It's his part of the assignment you both are working on. He said you can arrange it however you'd like."

"Ah, tell him I said thanks," you said.

"Will do, doll." he kissed your head before leaving.

San witnessed the entire scene and he lost his appetite. He pushed his food around with his spoon, feeling heartbroken.

"Step up your game, bro," Mingi said to San in a low tone so that the others couldn't hear.

"What do you mean?" San questioned.

Mingi rolled his eyes. "We all know you like Y/N. Don't give her up easily."

"Well, she likes Yonghee."

"They're only friends with benefits," Hongjoong said, joining the conversation. "They're just fooling around. I know it might seem like she has feelings for him, but trust me, she doesn't."

San bit his lip anxiously. "But she hates me."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "I know my sister well enough to say that she doesn't hate you, Sannie. In fact, she was really hurt 'cause she thinks you hate her. You both should really stop fighting and assuming shit."

"She doesn't hate me?" San asked in surprise.

"No, she doesn't, you idiot," Mingi muttered with a sigh. "Now step up your game, San, before someone else sweeps her off her feet."

You were watching the volleyball team practice for an upcoming inter-school match. San and Yeosang were on the team, so your entire group was here as well, watching them practice 'cause there was nothing else to do.

You had to admit, San was a great captain. He was so sweet to them and hyped them up every time they did well. It was even more fascinating to watch him play. When the team decided to take a break, he approached you, taking his water bottle from where you were sitting.

You couldn't help but check him out in the team uniform. The blue tank top and shorts exposed the muscles on his arms and thighs. He titled his head back, pouring the water into his mouth. You watched his Adam's apple bob with every gulp, and the way a few drops of water rolled down his lips and chin. His jawline looked sharper, and you saw a bead of sweat travelling down the side of his face. San looked undeniably attractive, especially with his new eyebrow piercing and dyed black hair; he already looked so good with his previous brown hair, and now he looked irresistible.

"Y/N, I asked you something," San said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, what were you saying?" you hoped he didn't notice you checking him out. San and you have surprisingly not had any fights recently, and he wasn't making any comments to piss you off either. You wondered why he suddenly changed his behavior towards you after years of getting on your nerves.

He smirked, pointing to his little red bag. "Could you open my bag and give me the green towel?" You did as he said, unkowingly blushing. San noticed everything, but he didn't say anything about it yet. He wiped the sweat off his face with the towel, suddenly leaning in close to your face. Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips, and your heartbeat sped up. San reached behind you to take his bag, shoving the towel and his water bottle inside. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, mentally reminding yourself to get your shit together. You glanced at your friends, relieved that they were too busy talking to notice the little scene between you and San; you knew they would tease the shit out of you if they saw what happened.

"Y/N," Yeosang called out. "You're coming for the party tomorrow night, no?"

"Of course," you said, a little confused as to why he suddenly asked. "Jiwoo would kill me if I missed it."

Jiwoo turned her head at the mention of her name. "Damn right, I would," she said with a nod.

Yeosang smirked. "You're coming in my car."

-

"I have to sit on San's lap?!" you half-yelled at Yeosang.

"Yeah, Yunho is sitting in the front with the Pegasus glass figurine he got for Jiwoo. The painting I got is in the backseat, and our bags are in the trunk. So you don't have a choice."

You bit your lip. "Fine."

You waited outside the car until San and Yunho came from their dorm. You wondered why San wasn't surprised when you told him you had to sit on his lap, but you brushed it off, assuming Yeosang would've told him earlier.

San was dressed in all black: ripped jeans, a leather jacket and a black t-shirt underneath it. You sat on his lap, closing the car door. He looked irresistible and his Chanel perfume made him smell so good, you didn't know how you'd survive the half an hour long car ride to Jiwoo's mansion without him noticing you inhaling his scent like air.

San gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so that you could sit comfortably. Yeosang started driving and you hoped time would go really fast.

Unfortunately, time seemed to be going really slow for you.

San pushed your hair to one side, making you lean back a little so that your back was pressed against his chest. "Sit comfortably, I don't bite," he whispered in your ear.

Yunho was talking about something, but you paid no attention. The only thing you could focus on was San's beautiful voice and laughs while you blankly stared out the window.

San noticed you weren't paying attention. He leaned forward a little, his lips coming in contact with the bare skin of your shoulder, making goosebumps arise on your skin. "Are you cold?" San teased when he saw the goosebumps on your bare thighs; you cursed yourself for wearing a short off-shoulder dress.

"Yeah, I am," you lied. San rubbed his palms together before placing them on your thighs. You gasped softly at his warm touch. He gently rubbed your thighs, trying to warm you up like as if he didn't know why you got goosebumps in the first place.

"We're here, guys," Yeosang announced, pulling up into Jiwoo's mansion that was lit up with a lot of LED lights.

You quickly got out of the car once Yeosang parked, running to hug Jiwoo.

"Happy eighteenth, Jiwoo!"

She chuckled. "Thank you, Y/N!"

"I can't wait to see you drunk!" you said with a giggle, excited that your friend could finally drink. She playfully rolled her eyes, dragging you inside to where half your school was while she told you which room you would be staying in. You were sure there were nearly two hundred people here, but you weren't surprised; Jiwoo's birthday parties were always like this.

"By the way, you're sharing a room with San tonight," Jiwoo said.

Your eyes widened. "What?! Why? Wasn't I supposed to be sleeping in your room?"

"Yeah," she said. "But, um... Yunho might be there and I don't think you'd want to witness us—"

"Okay, okay!" you half-yelled. "Why can't I sleep in Eunhee's room?"

"Ask Hongjoong if he's willing to switch with you," she chuckled and you groaned, knowing very well your twin brother would rather sleep next to his girlfriend than next to his friend.

But maybe he would agree? After all, he's quite protective of you and he wouldn't let you sleep next to a guy.

"Absolutely not," Hongjoong replied when you asked him to switch places with you.

"Joong! How can you let your baby sister sleep with a guy?" you whined.

He shrugged. "I trust San more than any other guy here. Besides, I need some privacy with my girl, you know? The dorms aren't a very great place to—"

You slammed your palm over his mouth, shutting him up. "I get it! I'll just deal with it."

You walked over to the bar, getting a whiskey and coke. You didn't have an issue with sleeping next to San; you just didn't know how you'd control yourself around him, especially after what happened hardly an hour ago.

After Jiwoo cut her huge birthday cake and popped a bottle of Champagne, some people from your grade sat down in one of the rooms to play truth or dare. Wooyoung and Mingi literally begged you to play and of course, you couldn't refuse.

"All right, I'm gonna spin it," Jongho said, spinning an empty beer bottle. It landed on Yeosang. "Truth or dare, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Truth," he answered.

"I got one!" Seonghwa said, turning to smirk at Yeosang. "Do you like a certain Japanese girl who's in your economics class?" You chuckled, glancing at the Japanese girl who was sitting right across Yeosang.

Yeosang smirked. "Of course I like my girlfriend." Your jaw dropped and so did many other's. You glanced at Mayumi who was clearly blushing; she reminded you so much of Yeosang.

"Kang Yeosang! You sly shit!" Wooyoung yelled, playfully tackling his friend to the ground.

"I knew something was happening between them!" Hongjoong stated with a laugh, making Mayumi turn pinker than she already was.

After a few more rounds, some people left, making the circle of people smaller. Eunhee spun the bottle and it landed on herself.

"Truth or dare?" Mingi asked.

"Truth."

"Is Hongjoong hyung a dom or a sub?" Mingi asked with a smirk.

"Both, but mostly a dom," she answered, unbothered.

"I'm not even surprised," Wooyoung said before spinning the bottle. It landed on you.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, a smile dancing on his lips.

"I'll go with dare."

Wooyoung grinned mischievously. "I dare you to . . . give San a hickey." You choked on nothing in particular.

"In front of you all?"

"Obviously not!" Hongjoong said in disgust. "I'd rather not witness that."

Your friends cheered for you when you got up and dragged San along with you to the room you both had to share tonight. Your heart raced with every step you took, and when he closed the door, the only sound you could hear was your pounding heartbeat.

San removed his shoes before sitting on the middle of the bed. You took off your heels, getting on the bed as well.

"Where do you want it?" you asked, avoiding eye-contact.

"Below my collarbone or here," he pointed to an area of the left side of his neck. You decided to give it on his neck because you've never given a collarbone hickey, so you didn't want to screw it up and embarrass yourself in front of the man who was currently driving you crazy.

San sat against the headboard of the bed, letting you straddle his lap. You placed a hand at his nape and the other at his shoulder, leaning in to place your lips on his neck. You gently brushed your lips against his skin before kissing around the area for a while. Your hand at his nape moved into his hair, tugging on it. San groaned softly, hands gripping your waist while he tilted his head to give you more access. You started to suck on his skin, making sure you bit him gently and gave him a few little licks. San's hands pushed you down on his growing bulge, making you moan against his skin. You pulled away from his neck, eyes instantly locking with his. You glanced between his eyes and his lips, unknowingly biting your own. San freed your bottom lip with his thumb, running it over your lip.

"I'd like to bite that lip," San said in a low tone. You couldn't control yourself anymore. You crashed your lips onto his and he responded just as eagerly as you. San took your bottom lip in between his teeth, gently pulling and biting on it, making you moan. He smirked, pulling away. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

"Don't you hate me?" you asked, shocked by his little confession.

San flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. He pressed his bulge against you. "What do you think?" he whispered, making you blush. "Y/N, you drive me absolutely crazy. I've liked you ever since ninth grade." Your eyes widened; he has liked you ever since he joined your school?!

"But— Then why were you always fighting with me?" you couldn't help but ask, even though right now wasn't a very... appropriate time.

"Remember how I was back then? I was so nerdy and you liked guys who were the complete opposite of that," he said, cupping your cheek. "No matter how hard I tried to get you to like someone like me, it just never worked. You always liked seniors and dated playboys. And then when I started screwing around, you still didn't like me. I guess... I guess that's why I fought with you a lot and it got worse over the years."

"San, you were perfect," you murmured. "I always thought you were way too good for me, that's why I never really bothered." you ran your hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for making you change yourself..."

San shook his head, lying beside you on the bed. "It's not your fault. I was fifteen and stupid, Y/N. Besides, I'm used to being like this now." You bit your lip, not knowing what to say. "Y/N, I hated seeing you with Yonghee. I know you guys aren't dating, but the thought of you with him or with anyone else... I really hate it," he looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating a lot. You cupped his cheek, giving him an encouraging smile.

San took a deep breath. "Um, Y/N, do you... feel the same way about me?" You immediately kissed him as an answer, making him blush and sigh in relief.

"Well, my dare is complete," you murmured, fingers running over the hickey you had given him. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on it. "How about we continue from where we left off?" you whispered in his ear.

San smirked, pulling you close to his body by your waist. "Mhmm, I'd like that."

[natsukitakama]

Aww, you're so sweet!🤍 It's ok, I understand you, I have classes too so I understant that writing can take time. Well then, if it's ok, could you please write smth for Gojo x sorcerer s/o? It can be really anything - like their everyday life, how they going on a missions together, some fluffy or angsty stuff, literally anything. Hope you're ok with this req and I'm not making it hard for you since it's not smth specified😅

Author note : Hi there ♡ than you for requesting ! And also for understanding haha. It took me more times than expected because I had to read a little bit and watch again (not that it bothers me lmao). Your request is absolutely fine, I actually don’t mind when things is general it gives me more room for manoeuvre you know ?  

Warning : No spoiler since I’m still an anime only for now / Fluffy / Slight nsfw / some swear too I apologize 

Masterlist 

I already said it on my previous request but being a sorcerer means Gojo might be « distant » with you. Not that he didn’t find you attractive or enjoy you being around him (he craves for attention). But yes at first he doubted that you were interested on him because of him (he knows he is difficult to live with) or because of his position, money etc. But it doesn’t mean he won’t date a sorcerer. 

Times after times when you two became not only lover but friends, when he realized that you didn’t give a damn as much as him, when it came to sorcerer’s world. When he realized that you wanted to change it as much as he wanted too, I’m not saying that he would give you his heart but he will start to see you not just because he appreciates you but as a person. 

And that’s how he started to fall in love. 

Now being in relationship with you got his good point, you can understand (or at least got an idea) of his struggle as the strongest sorcerer, you can go on mission with him so it means you could spend time with him, both you can train together, he would be more confident too in the idea that you’re able to defend yourself (even if he would never let anyone curse put a finger on you, they would be dead before thinking about it). 

Before starting just a warning : not because you’re sorcerer mean he acte more like a grown up, no just give up on this he is bubbly and would remain the same, also he is possessive and hella protective no matter if you can defend yourself. 

That being said, how its like to date him as a sorcerer ? 

First, if you’re member of clan that mean both of you is supposed to go into the usual meeting, but since you’re dating him it also means that not only him but you would be late. It’s good thing that you didn’t give a damn (even if you hated getting late). So after getting scold for being late, you would assist on the meeting and well, one advise just don’t sit close to Gojo. He hates those meeting, he got him nervous, it’s source of stress for him so it needs something to relieve. That thing is you. 

It means that yeah he would tease you during the whole speech, sometimes he would tickle you, sometimes he would whisper dirty things on your and would lick it slightly, mentioned how he want to just throw you in the center and just fuck you roughly at least both you would be here for something, sometimes he went as far as to touch you and I’m not talking about him grabbing your hands : he would stroke your ass if he can have an access on it, he would stroke your thigh anything just to flustered you. He loves meeting because he knows he has you to keep him entertaining. 

If you’re not a member, he might insist on taking you with him since you’re still a part of the sorcerer society. Not matter what people would say, he doesn’t give a damn, if he says you’ll be here with him, you would. Exception, if you told him you don’t want to, or if you’re busy with something he won’t push it will whine and except you to give him extra attention and foods for letting him alone. During time like this he would sext you during the whole meeting he has no chill and no one would dare say something, he knows that and is not afraid to take avantage of it. 

When it came to you daily routine, do not expect anything out of ordinary. I mean if you can you would share a breakfast together, shower together (100% end up with your chest against the wall while he is having his fun with you) but then you would have to either go in a mission together or he would go for his teacher duties while you would leave for you own activity. Sometimes, you wake up with him not being here anymore cause he had to leave earlier for a mission, expect something like a breakfast ready for you or at least a little word on his bedside to apologize (also even if he is on mission, he would easily call you while fighting a cursed because he missed you, also whines a lot). 

When you two leave for a mission, there isn’t much to do I mean if you can manage the curse Satoru would gladly let you do your job while getting a little bit too excited because you’re way too hot, too badass (yeah he is like your number 1 cheerleader), if you’re taking too much time he would whine and complain though. Mostly because he wants you to do it quickly so you could spend the rest of the day cuddling because obviously he would come back with you at the Tokyo school once he is satisfied with the time you two spent together 

So if you’re taking too much time he would just end this like with a snap of his finger (that mother..) and while you’ll be angry at him for taking care of your business, he would just throw you on his shoulder while patting your ass and laughing at the same. 

Then you two would spend quality time together, having lunch, chilling together (movie, even taking a nap together) 

And then Satoru would be scold for taking way to much time on « easy » case which obviously he couldn’t care less, again he is Satoru Gojo what possibly could the old man (except getting on his never ?). 

Do not take me wrong he is afraid of being scold by the principal and you, especially getting scold by you. Cause it means no Mochi and Cuddle for Satoru, and he couldn’t tolerate that (deprive him from his precious Mochi what kind of torture is that ?). But then he would find a way to your sweet spot, one stroke from your cheeks, a little pout of him, and a little complain about how little time you two could spent together because of your job and so yeah he just managed time on his own. 

How could you be angry against him ? He knows he is cute and your weak for his puppy eyes 

But that’s is when you two could spend mission together, obviously Gojo is way more busier that you (still a teacher and a sorcerer) so he tends to outside more often than you even thought you’re pretty busy yourself. Except a lot, of chitchatting at worst time. I swear he knows when you’re currently struggling to hold your domain expansion or your spell and this is when he decided to text you about a video he saw on YouTube that make him laugh. And if you’re not answering at him, he calls you. 

Yes. You’re bleeding the shit out of you but that fucker is upset because he didn’t have enough attention from you he’ll FaceTime you at the worst moment.

Although sometimes when got bored during a mission he would flirt with you. It’s the rule. He doesn’t care that they are plenty of cursed around you, you’re hot and he wants attention

*cough cough*  sorry about that 

Sometimes when you got hurt during a mission and unfortunately Gojo wasn’t there to take care of that damn curse; he is getting really pissed. He won’t show it but everything can feel it, the tension is here all around him, everyone could feel so pressure whenever something happened to you. 

He barely left your bed even though you’ve been healed by Shoko, he won’t, he insists on watching you just in case. Will hold your hand during your healing process. After your accident, good luck cause he would NEVER let you on your own. Going to the bathroom ? He is right behind the door waiting for you, Going for some shopping he didn’t got money for nothing, don’t ever think about leaving for a mission either him or Nanami (cause he would bother him until Nanami decided that yes he would watch you just to be sure) would be their by your side. 

You mean everything for him. 

At some points, he would talk to you about his whole projet, about how he is about to kick those old prick out of the system and expect you to be by his side too (which won’t be too difficult considering most of them are ass***) 

Also, if students were kinda suspicious about you (like who could even be healthy enough to date Gojo ?) they quickly understand why Gojo loves you so much to the point both of you became their parent. 

So sometimes you’ll be there to take care of their lesson since Gojo in his good fashion way decided to be late or just leave to buy a new mocchi. You’re kinda became Gojo-sensei 2.0 

Everyone loves you and when Gojo appears to finally be the teacher he is, they all whine about missing you. Later than day he would whine while being on your arm, about how you stole his students from you. 

You didn’t you were just a better teacher than him but he is not ready for that conversation. So instead, you just stroke his hair telling him how wonderful he is, about how obviously everyone loves him they’re just shy about it. Stroke his ego and he won’t even be concerned about his lack of skills. 

[marchioness-caprina]

You Like Me Not?

{ Final Part }

Pairings : Takami Keigo ( Hawks) x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Cussing, Stalker Tendencies, Toxic Tendencies.

Word Count : 2947

Read; { Part 1 } , { Part 2 }

3rd Person's POV

A month has Passed. Yes a whole Month has passed and y/n was surprisingly doing well; in the surface at least.

Inside. Not so well but at least she's coping up a lot better than a few weeks ago where she'd often cry herself to sleep, even in the showers. The lingering pain was still haunting her like there's no tomorrow but now she's getting used to it.

After all, First love is usually the greatest and the most painful experience.

Instead of moping around and sulking, she began investing her time and effort into being a Hero. And the effort paid off greatly; her performance was improving and she's proud to say that she's on par with the top three of the class which mainly consists of Izuku, Todoroki and Bakugou.

She was finally getting the attention that she deserved, plus it takes her mind off of Keigo and his jerkass.

However, at the end of the day she felt so empty and devoid of something---someone she longs for. And she will never accept that it was Keigo she was looking for.

But she needs to stay strong and let go of those people who can't even appreciate the little things she does; she won't let them bring her down. No, not when she's finally seeing something big for her up ahead.

Unfortunate as the saying goes ; All good things will come to an end. And for y/n, that is today.

Their class was split in groups for an Activity. Y/n along with Kirishima and Mina and Izuku were paired up to patrol the busy part of the city where crimes are mostly committed.

And guess who their Hero guide is? Yup one of them is Hawks and the other one is Enchanting.

Y/n who had a smile on her face seemed calm on first approach but inside she was cussing her heart out for the terrible luck she's got.

It had to be two of her worst nightmare. How charming.

" You Kids doing fine back there? " Keigo asked, his eyes never leading the road and beside him was a bored looking enchantress.

The two were their Hero guides for today and everyone was ecstatic. Except for y/n.

" Yeah we're good! " Kirishima answered for everyone and y/n was thankful that she didn't have to exchange a few unnecessary words with Hawks.

Her attention was now caught by the Broccoli boy right next to her who was vigorously writing notes down on his notebook.

" Oh my gosh it's the Pro Hero Hawks " Izuku was becoming a mumbling mess as He continued to scribble. His pace was a beyond anyone y/n had ever seen and she was very much intrigued by Izuku's unwavering determination.

" You know Midoriya-san, you're actually really handsome up close" Y/n muttered and izuku froze on the spot; heat rising up his cheeks as he tensed. Slowly he turned to see the h/c haired girl who was smiling at him tenderly.

" I-I-I... Umm... T-Thank you Y/n-san... A-and... You're really handsome too.... W-wait I mean n-not handsome because you aren't a g-guy w-what I meant to say was... P-pretty.... You're really pretty" Izuku gushed out and as much as y/n tried to contain her laughter she couldn't keep a straight face and began laughing at Izuku's Adorable antics.

Izuku was going red due to his rising embarrassment as he began to stutter out another list of explanation why he accidentally said it.

But their little conversation didn't go unnoticed by Keigo and Enchanting.

" Wow, she moves Fast. Better try Harder Birdy. As far as I see it; she's sick of you and look she's a boy magnet. You're gonna lose if you keep this up " Enchantress casually gave her comment and Hawks gave her a narrowed look.

" Shut up miss ' I'm a hundred years old' you better hope she'll be mine by the end of the day, I've pulled a lot of strings to get her here and it ain't easy " Hawks kept a calm expression; his lips tugging up into a smirk as he continued " This was your fault to begin with. If I can't win her over today.... Well you're gonna get wrinkles starting tomorrow. I'm not a very forgiving fellow"

" We'll see Hawks... We'll see "

" Oh, we Will "

" Hey! You two lovebirds better stop flirting and Tell Kirishima here that Cats are better than Dogs! " Mina exclaimed and with how loud her voice was; she caught everyone's attention within her first attempt.

" I told you Mina, Dogs are Manly. And they earned the title of Man's Best friend. They're dedicated and Loyal but I wanna know who you guys will vote for" Kirishima replied as he glanced back at the still very flustered Izuku and A Smiling y/n.

" W-well.... I think I prefer Dogs than Cats... Sorry Mina " Izuku gave Mina an apologetic smile as Mina pouted before turning to y/n.

" Come on y/n you gotta be on my side on this one " Mina pleaded and Kirishima pulled her away.

" That's cheating Mina, don't pull the pity card on Y/n. That's so not Manly... But.. Well which do you prefer y/n? "

" Hmm... Well... I----"

" I vote for Birds. I heard Birds are very reliable companions miss y/n. I assume that you feel the same way? " Enchantress piped in and y/n gave her a raised brow but she managed to catch on to what enchantress was saying.

" Oh? Well I understand the reason why you Like Birds Enchantress; I do too... Well I used to anyways but to answer your question I prefer Dogs... Sorry Mina. I like how a Dog will be loyal to you till the very end"

" Hmm? So you're saying Birds aren't Loyal? " Enchantress chimed and y/n's chuckle made Kirishima, Mina and Izuku shudder.

Her laugh was cold and forced; her eyes landed on Enchantress and a teasing smirk was now displayed on her face.

" Well Enchantress, Upon Personal experiences... Then my Answer is No. Birds aren't Loyal at All" Everyone shivered at her response simply because y/n had took the risk of jumping straight onto a landmine. Because Hawks had a bird based Quirk.

The temperature dropped to negative and even enchantress seemed to be affected by the sudden change of the atmosphere.

" Really Now? You wound me Baby Bird " Keigo's smile was passive aggressive and y/n didn't hesitate to return it.

" Don't call me That Hawks. And stop acting like you know me"

" I'm very Hurt by your words... Especially about your opinion on Birds. I for one am very Loyal "

" Nah, I Love dogs but I also like Bunnies... Take izuku for example. He's cute, shy and smart like a Bunny. Not Cunning, Manipulative and Sly Like a... Hawk" Y/n countered as she placed her Hand on top of Izuku's Head petting him gently.

Her action made a growl rip itself from Keigo's Throat and everyone froze at his aggressive reaction.

" Sure, I may be Cunning, Manipulative and Sly... But you forgot one thing Baby Bird "

" And what is it Hawks? "

" Hawks are Birds of Prey... And They are Very Possessive " Keigo answered, his Fetagers began to Bristow and sharpen; eyes trained on y/n's figure as he slightly lowered his stance.

" Huh? Why would I need to know tha------ahhhhh! " A scream was heard as y/n disappeared from her place as well as Hawks.

Unfortunately she was brisked away by the said Hero at A speed far top fast for the human eyes to follow.

" What the!? " Kirishima , Izuku and Mina who were knocked down on the ground after the Aerial impact of the winged hero were stunned as they frantically looked around for their Female Classmate who had vanished into thin air.

" Let them Be kids " Enchantress muttered as she gestured for the teens to follow her.

" B-but--!".

" Let. Them. Be..... Seriously I don't want to have any wrinkles because of that damn Cocky Hawks .... So let them be or else "

________________

" Hawks! Put me Down! " Y/n demanded, she was brisked away and slung onto his shoulders like a bag of potatoes and now Hawks was flying away and note that they are far from the ground.

" As you wish"

Y/n could practically feel the smirk in his voice and her heart dropped along with her body as she screamed for bloody murder because Hawks was being a Jerk and dropped her in Mid-air.

" Keiiiiigooooo! " Her scream was more of a threat and after 15 seconds of falling in Mid-air she was once again brisked away by the winged Hero who was smirking at her.

" God... I missed it so much when you used to call me by my name and not ' Hawks ' or ' Takami' " Keigo chuckled as he faced the girl who was holding onto him for dear life.

" Ah... Shit I almost died" Y/n hissed as she began shifting in her position, her legs were tightly wrapped around Keigo's Torso, her arms had snaked themselves around his neck and don't even get him started on how hard she was pushing her body against his.

" Easy baby Bird. Don't. Be too feisty with me... I might lose control " Keigo whispered bit he was met with a scowl.

" What is wrong with you? Can't you just leave me alone? If you think this is funny well it's not. I don't want to see or even hear you" Y/n spat out as her heart began pounding in her ribcage from both the adrenaline and embarrassment .

Hawks didn't answer and just gave her an intimidating glare that almost had her shrinking and burying her face on his chest.... Almost.

" Sure you don't want to see me... But really? Leeching yourself on every single boy who comes near you? You're driving me crazy Little Bird. I almost became a serial murderer because of you... Picture this... Pro hero Hawks; the first Hero to Murder a student because of Jealousy " Keigo bitterly laughed .

" Keigo... What the fuck are you saying? ---"

" I'm not done venting!, you think it's fun to mess with my head? Where the fuck were you over the past few weeks?! Seeing another man? While I stayed in my office drinking a huge load of bullshit? Driving myself crazy in that room anticipating when you'd show up again!? And now....now you have the guts to flirt with another man right in front of me " Keigo was pouring out all of his frustration right in front of her and he was far from being finished.

" For a moment there I almost considered the possibility of becoming a murderer... Just because he touched my Girl... He stole your attention away from me... I fucking waited and I resisted the urge to fucking drag you to the nearest alleyway y/n----"

" Cut to the fucking chase Keigo! "

" I Love you y/n! That's what I was trying to say Baby Bird. I Fucking Love you! " Keigo panted out and Y/n was more than speechless.

She didn't know what to feel, she didn't know how to react. After all that? And the effort she made to move on... Now... Now he's being so difficult and telling her he love her?!.

" Keigo, if you think a bullshit excuse like that is enough then you're wrong! Have you had any idea how hard and painful it was for me? How much I had to endure became I loved you? Damn well you don't and you don't have the right to slap this shit right in front of me you bastard! I cried myself to sleep and... And... You... ---" She couldn't finish her sentence when tears began to flood her eyes and was now cascading down her flushed cheeks.

She began sobbing and hitting Keigo's chest which has done absolutely zero no no damage at all.

Keigo's only response was to hold her in place and tighten his arms around her waist; letting her vent.

Of course he was awful to her. He was one hell of a fucking idiot to do this to the woman he loves.

He told her everything, it was true. He barely had any decent sleep and worked his ass off while waiting for her return. He didn't want to carry that habit of being an obsessive stalker. Of course he didn't tell her about how he had stalked her multiple times, he didn't want to scare her. But all of it was true. Including the jealousy part.

" I'm sorry Y/n....i really am--"

" Sorry ain't cutting shit you Jerk! Just when I'm moving on you stomp your way back in! "

" No y/n....don't ever move on. Stay here with me... I know this may sound toxic and shitty as fuck but hear me out... I know it hurts but bare with me... Don't move on.. Stay even if it hurts.. Don't leave me and give me every thing of who you are... No matter how painful it is "

" You selfish prick! Do you realize how greedy you sound! You fucking maniac! "

" I know! I know... But all my life I've been deprived of everything I actually wanted.. I was told to be this and not that... I never had the chance to actually have what I want so please y/n....allow me to be selfish when it comes to you... Let me be greedy and give me You. I don't care if I'm selfish because I'm only selfish when it comes to you.... So please. Beat me up, hit me, stab me... I don't care but just don't Leave me" Keigo growled; angry at his words and his selfish desires bit he couldn't help it.

Y/n who was still sobbing her heart out was listening to every word he had uttered. She fought back the idea of actually giving him a chance. She knew Keigo was sick to the bone but she's even worst knowing that this type of guy had attracted her and lured her to love him.

How... Why is she so soft when it comes to him? Is this how love really is? Because if it is... Then she doesn't give a shit. She wants him too. But she isn't going to make it any easier for him. If he wants her then he better earn her, No more miss nice y/n.

And He wanted her... He needed her and he isn't just about to let her go. He'll hunt her down even in hell.

" Keigo... You.... Ugh... I... Shit... "

" Is it working y/n...am I winning you over? "

" Only because I loved you Keigo you prick "

" Correction You still Love me...so be my girlfriend?"

" Whatever. Just so you know, I'm not saying yes to your proposal. You gotta earn me you fucking retard and it isn't going to be easy"

" I knew you were going to say something like that. And yes I'm ready to make those sacrifices for you, Just... No boys " Keigo smirked as he cradled the girl in his arms.

She still had her arms wrapped around his neck as he landed on one of the very few skyscrapers in the city.

" No can do Keigo... Your Baby Bird here is a Boy Magnet---" Upon seeing how fast Keigo's demeanor had shifted to something more gruesome she shut up immediately and nodded her head.

" You too Chicken wings... No girls for you"

" No can do, your Bird man here is a lady magnet " Keigo smirked returning her words at her.

Y/n rolled her eyes and reached her hand up to paw on his blonde hair; giving them a harsh yank but before she pulled him down, her lips meeting his in a rough and demanding kiss to avoid any form of kinky retort from Hawks.

Keigo immediately responded and took full control of dominance as his lips moved in sync with hers. Rough and passionate, but unfortunately Keigo was getting a little bit handsy; his hands made its way towards her thigh giving it a harsh squeeze but before he could do anything else she pulled away covering his mouth with her hands when he tried to catch her lips again.

" Nuh uh Keigo. We're Going slow "

" Ugh... Nice job being a Kill Joy Kid...tsk.."

" Fuck you Keigo"

" Why don't you do it yourself you Coward "

" Oh I will Keigo "

" Really? I don't mind breeding you right here if you wan---"

" Eww Keigo shut up. I was kidding. I want to be a Hero before becoming a Mom"

" Yeah, Good luck with that because I think you're gonna be a momma anytime soon because you said Yes to Me"

" I didn't say jack shit like that Keigo" Y/n snapped as she began squirming in his hold with Keigo chuckling and laughing at her poor attempt.

" Relax. I was Kidding-- "

" Thank Goodness for a moment there I actually thought you we---"

" Maybe "

" Keigo! "

End~? ♡...............

[emilyplaysotome]

Queen's Choice - Part 5

This is the fifth chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys.

Catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

He’s up before I am, but I’m not surprised. I wake to the smell of coffee and breakfast, and my stomach lets out a growl. I usually do without or pick something up on the way to the office, but I can’t pass up his cooking.

I’m surprised at how sore I am from the previous night’s activities and my cheeks burn as I think about everything that transpired.

I think about what it felt like to be under him and on top of him and how despite what we did I still want more.

I wonder when I got so greedy and I also realize I only have a week of having my cake and eating it too before I have to start making hard decisions, so I do my best to push down the unpleasant thoughts and focus on the man in my kitchen.

As I’m getting ready, my phone lights up with a notification from Kiro.

“It's just that I'm...back in town! You doing anything tonight?”

I can still smell Victor on me and it feels almost wrong to reply, but I do.

“Nada! Want to hang?”

“Something like that 😈 - I have a concert tonight and got you a VIP pass. I want you in the front row”

“…And I have a surprise for you before.”

“Oooh! A surprise. Like candy?” I type back with a grin.

“Something a bit spicier…”

With that he sends me the address with a time and I open the door to see Victor enjoying coffee and a plate of eggs with toast waiting for me.

“Good morning sleeping dummy. I thought I’d be off on my work trip before you even woke up. So glad you could join me.”

He’s laying it on thick, but we kiss good morning as if we’ve been together for years. It’s just a peck on the lips but it makes this all feel very domestic and I take my seat next to him before digging in.

The food is amazing, which isn’t a surprise.

Victor smiles as he watches me eat with gusto and even though we’ve done this kind of thing before, having followed what we did last night it feels more intimate. There’s a moment where I look at him and smile and realize that the pendulum to my clock has stopped moving and I realize that he’s frozen us in this moment.

“I need to leave,” he explains, gently wiping some crumbs from my mouth. “But I don’t want to quite yet.”

It’s romantic and sweeter than I’m used to him being.

I feel myself swooning a bit and I take a gulp of the juice next the coffee he’s made and kiss him. A real kiss where I hope I taste like OJ and everything sweet instead of the savory breakfast he’s made for me. I can feel it starting to escalate but he gently pushes me away and says, “I need to go.”

“When do I get to see you again?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“I’ll be away on business. I’ll write when I’m back.”

I nod but am reminded of how important Victor is.

How unavailable he is at times.

He must see this and he kisses me gently again and says, ”I trust you’ll keep yourself occupied so you won’t miss me too much, yes?”

I nod, guiltily thinking about the fact I’ve already made myself plans with another man and that after signing the contract I thought about how I could see the others before time ran out for one of them. I don’t know if he sees through me, but he kisses my forehead and tells me to be a good girl while he’s away before putting on his jacket.

When he’s at the door he looks at me with a naughty smirk and says, “When I’m back we can live out your fantasy in my office. Until then I look forward to hearing what you dream up next in your bed about me.”

I feel myself go bright red and yell, “Have a good trip!” and hear the sound of his low laughter and the click of the door before I’m left alone with my breakfast and thoughts.

I think about how easy it’s been to float between four men and how they all come and go in a way that makes me question if any of them could be present in the way I want.

In the way my perfect one would be.

—

I forget about my worries and get lost in work, planning our next episode of Miracle Finder with Anna. We budget and make phone calls and laugh about challenging production experiences and before I know it the day is gone and it’s time to hit the gym.

I change into my clothes and I catch a small mark on my breast. I question who it’s from and why I don’t feel more satiated.

I had thought that by being with each of them, I would have some clarity but if anything I feel it has muddied things. I wonder if I need to try again. Or until Victor’s contract forces my hand.

It’s then that I shower him off of me and I feel a pang of melancholy.

I’m surprised by the fact that I liked having him on me but I’m about to meet Kiro and that feels like a personal line I don’t want to cross.

—

The security at the venue is insane and I question if I’ll be able to make it back to the green room where Kiro instructed me to meet him. It’s only by chance that I run into Savin by the entrance and he escorts me through the labyrinth-like backstage, dropping me at the door before running off to take care of something else.

I knock and hear a cheerful voice inviting me in. I open it and enter, seeing Kiro in all his pop star glory, styled to the max but reclining on the couch, Nintendo switch in hand.

“Miss Chips you made it!”

“I did.”

He throws the switch aside and jumps up to greet me, giving me a deep kiss before evaluating my appearance.

“So cute. I don’t know how I’m going to stay focused on the concert with you up front looking like this…not to mention what I’ve planned for us.”

“For us?”

I can’t help but giggle as he gives me a little twirl before running off to get the surprise he’d mentioned but that I’d already forgotten about. It’s a box that gives few clues about its contents, and I open it and discover what looks like a sexy underwear set.

“Put it on.”

“Now? But…”

“Now. It’s locked, no one will come in.”

There’s an impish look I haven’t seen before and I obey, surprised that he runs over and turns his attention to his laptop instead of on my naked form. I can feel that there’s something…in this underwear, pressed up against my most sensitive spot and I don’t quite understand until I’m in it and he’s looking at me with a smile.

“I made this just for you,” he says with a smile.

“Made it?”

“Programmed it for your pleasure tonight…”

He starts to sing a soft melody that I recognize as his song “Key to your Heart” and the moment his voice hits the word “Key” I feel a vibration that’s subtle enough to go unnoticed by someone next to me but present enough to trigger a moan out of me.

His eyes are glued to me and he gets up and reaches out to gently touch my face before running his hand down lower to play with my breast the way he did when we were in the shower.

“Clever isn’t it?”

I realize that the word “Key” activates the mechanism, and knowing that I alone know his secret alter ego, I desperately try to regain my composure and say, “It’s a nice touch. How do I stop it?”

“I love you Kiro.”

“What?”

“Say it.”

I pause and he smirks and sings, “The KEY to your love…” and the intensity of the vibration increases.

I moan, “I love you Kiro” louder than I expect and the vibration stops.

He laughs and kisses me.

“Anyone else will think you’re just a fan, but I’ll know what’s happening.”

“I didn’t realize you played dirty.”

“I play to win…always.”

I can tell he’s serious and his gaze has an intensity it usually lacks. He doesn’t feel like the jovial, playful boy that I spent the past couple years with. He suddenly feels more mature and I find myself wanting his touch before the concert, but Savin’s knock interrupts us.

“Be right there!” He yells back, switching into his sweetheart persona.

“5 minutes,” Savin says from behind the closed door.

“Got it. I’ll see you backstage.”

Savin grunts in reply and it feels like my heart is the only one that’s racing.

“We’ll finish what we’ve started after the concert,” Kiro says, slipping a VIP lanyard around my neck. “See you here after the encore.”

He doesn’t touch me, even though I’m riled up and I have no choice but to find my place in the crowd for his concert. When it starts I realize he’s only a few feet above me and while he does his typical amazing performance, I can feel him watching me through most of it.

He insists on saying the secret phrase more than usual, and I do my best to keep my composure in the crowd, too embarrassed to shout “I love you Kiro” as often as he says “Key”. The girls around me all squeal when he looks our way, which is often, and I struggle not to let his toy get the better of me.

I can tell he’s getting riled up too, watching me from the stage, because his eyes turn gold and he lets everyone know that the encore is coming early tonight. None of them care, especially not me, and within 20 minutes of the last song I’m back in the green room being bent over a couch that has seen years of this kind of behavior.

My clothes are still on but the underwear he gifted me is down around my ankles and he makes lewd comments as to how his toy has made it easy to have me. I’m almost embarrassed by my own wetness but he continues to moan filthy commentary as he fucks me which is far filthier than I ever expected him capable.

I realize that neither one of us were as sweet as we pretended to be with the other.

He flips me over and lifts me in a princess carry for a moment before laying me down on the couch. He spreads my legs in a way where I'm half laying, half sitting, exposed on the very edge to him and he enters me again. He nips at my neck, and lightly pinches my breast, toying with me, teasing me like he did all night and once again there’s a knock from Savin.

“Kiro - you’ve got a meet and greet in 15.”

He smirks but doesn’t stop.

“But I’ve got 15?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all the time I need. Thanks Savin.”

I cover my mouth as to not alert his manager to what’s actually happening behind the door as he ups the intensity of his movement. He has full control over me and my pleasure and much to my excitement (as well as my disappointment), Kiro keeps his promise to Savin.

—

We say goodbye a few minutes before the meet and greet, drenched in our own sweat and fluids but riding some endorphin high from the night.

He doesn’t mince his words this time.

“You know I’m in love with you right?”

“I…”

“And you know I play to win, right?”

I nod.

“Then I’ll be seeing you soon."

I watch him pause at the door before he looks back and adds, "Sooner than anyone else if I have to.”

“But what about your world tour?”

Savin knocks from beyond the door, but doesn’t want to leave this time.

“Kiro come on. Chop chop. I promised my wife I’d be home to put the kids to bed tonight, let’s go.”

I don’t know why, but I hide when he exits so it seems as if Kiro was in the green room alone before I compose myself to head home. I pass girls wearing t-shirts with Kiro’s face plastered all over them and I think about what we just did.

I think about how he’s off to meet fans, covered in me just as I am covered in him.

I think about what he said and how they all basically said it.

How I keep being asked to choose.

I still don’t want to choose.

It feels like a helpless situation, being pulled in all directions. I approach an intersection and looking at the traffic light, a lightbulb goes off in my head. I stop where I am on the sidewalk to send the exact same text to all four of them.

“Can I see you on Saturday?”

I have no idea what it is that they'll say, but on the small chance that this goes the way I think it might, I might have found a catch. I smile to myself, no longer feeling as conflicted and walk to pick up some dessert to enjoy when I'm home.

Cake perhaps.

It seems fitting for an occasion where having cake and eating it too applies to more than just sweet nothings...

--

Part 6

I hope you liked the fifth chapter of my steamy fic. If you liked this, please comment, share, and like! I love seeing that :)

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[tragertrap]

Intimidating || Juice Ortiz x Reader

Summary: (Y/N), although Jax's best friend, wants nothing to do with the motorcycle club that's fucking up her town. Well, at least that's the case until she meets a certain member of SAMCRO with a stupid haircut. Even though he seems too intimidating at first, (Y/N) learns to never judge a book by its cover when she gets a chance to see his softer side.

Having a best friend that works at an automotive repair shop definitely comes in handy for (Y/N), especially since her 'old ass disaster of a car' constantly breaks down.

"Wow, that's the 3rd time in a month (Y/N)!", Jax said before he let out a chuckle.

"You know I'm saving for a new one asshole." She hit his bicep playfully.

"I hope the best friend discount is still on", she mumbled.

"It expired after the forth time you used it darling."

"I'm sorry. It's just that... money's kinda tight right now."

"I can imagine..."

"Can I pay you back in pancakes?... or waffles? I know you won't deny waffles." She asked with an awkward smile on her face, hoping her best friend would accept.

"Have you not pay for the car AND poison me with your cooking? I think I'll pass", he teased her.

"I meant going to the diner outside of town but since you're being an asshole I guess the offer is off the table."

"Okay okay if you're not the one cooking, I'm down", he said, his smirk never leaving his face.

She couldn't help but laugh, thankful for her best friend being there to cheer her up.

"Thank you Jackie."

"My shift ends in half an hour. If you wanna wait we can go for pancakes after I'm done here", he said, putting an arm around her.

She had just left work, so the timing was perfect for a warm meal at a cozy diner with her best friend.

"Yeah, sure! I can wait."

They started walking towards the garage and the blond man started talking again: "You know I'd fix your car for free anyway but then you mentioned pancakes so I couldn't say no."

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

"You're lucky I love you Teller."

He laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek, his arm still around her shoulder.

"Me and Chibs are just finishing off with an old bike and then we're good to go."

"Chibs?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as they were approaching the bike Jax was talking about.

"One of the guys... the Scottish one. Do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

"I was mostly asking because of the weird name but sure... Scottish one. Got it! One of your scary biker friends, right?"

He couldn't help but laugh yet again.

"Scary biker friends?"

(Y/N) loved Jax. The two immediately became best friends at a pretty young age when (Y/N)'s family had moved to Charming next to Gemma and John Teller's house. She loved him the way you'd love a brother, she was always there for him whenever he needed her but one thing she decided to stay completely away from was the club. She wouldn't approve of the outlaw lifestyle in the first place but also witnessing the mess it caused to her town, and most importantly her best friend, was only making it worse. She wouldn't ask any questions in case she'd get answers she wouldn't like. He was ok with it. More than ok with it actually. She was an escape for him to a carefree past and a light of positivity in his chaotic present.

She met the 'Scottish one' that was helping Jax fix the old bike and it went better than she expected. Once she got over his pretty intimidating look, scarred face, leather jacket and all, he actually seemed pretty nice and interesting.

She was sitting on a bench next to the two bikers working when she noticed another guy trying to fix a car nearby. Well, it was pretty hard for him to go unnoticed. He had a short dark mohawk and a tattoo on each side of it on his head, wounds on his face from god knows what and tattoos all over his arms and torso, that was now visible since his shirt was long gone. His muscular body was glistening from his sweat in the Californian heat and the muscles on his arms and upper back were moving in sync as he was working on the damaged car.

He had been over that car's engine for what seemed like forever and as much as she hated to admit it, (Y/N) wished she wasn't jealous of an old car. She had noticed the guy before, one of the many times she had to visit TM due to her shitty car, but that day she had the chance to take a 'closer look'.

His left hand was resting on the car's open hood now, giving her a better view of his muscular arm and flexing abs. The focused look on his face, lowered eyebrows and clenched jaw, made him appear even more intimidating and yet attractive, especially when he unconsciously licked his lips in deep thought.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)?" her friend interrupted her watching of the 'show'. "Can you pass me that cloth over there?", he asked as he pointed to a gray piece of cloth on the bench she was sitting.

After that small interruption she was back at unapologetically starting at the tan guy nearby. She guessed that she had missed a lot since a small part of his abs was covered in grease now and his face seemed even angrier after the amount of failed attempts to start the car.

After some more conversation with Jax and Chibs, once she looked over at the mohawk guy again, he had already put his black shirt on, meaning that his job fixing the car was done. Later as he was putting a no-sleeve leather jacket on, which (Y/N) unfortunately recognised, he was aimlessly looking around when he caught the almost-drooling girl looking at him. She immediately dragged her gaze to Jax and Chibs, mostly out of embarrassment as well as some fear of his intimidating look. Next thing she knew, the mohawk guy was strutting confidently towards her and the two bikers, shoulders and arms swaying back and forth. He was wearing a pair of black sunglasses, no one knowing where his brown eyes were focused on.

"Hey brother", Chibs said with a smirk.

He answered with a simple 'hey' and a light hit on Chib's back and then did the same to Jax, after he took off his sunglasses and put them hanging outside his leather jacket's pocket.

(Y/N) didn't know if she should have been mad or relieved that the hot outlaw completely ignored her existence, exactly because he was a hot outlaw. Nevertheless, she was satisfied she could study the biker up close. He was wearing buggy cargo pants with chains hanging from one side near his waist and the black shirt she had noticed earlier was visibly a little too tight on his muscular chest. He put his hands in his pockets, as (Y/N) was staring at the veins and black tattoos on his arms that had started to fade.

"Jax, I wanted to tell you that I can't come with you guys tonight. I have something personal to take care of." He didn't give any further details since his brothers were not the only ones present. He was waiting for an answer from Jax with a frown on his face since the sun was getting into his eyes. (Y/N) noticed how his chocolate brown pupils appeared almost red against the sunlight.

"Yeah, that's okay. We're more than enough for tonight anyway. You can take the evening off."

"Awesome, thank you man", he said with a smirk as he lightly hit Jax's back.

He then shook his head up as an indication of saying goodbye, while maintaining eye contact with (Y/N), before he walked away.

Was that saying goodbye to me as well?

It was a goodbye to everyone.

He was looking at my direction though.

(Y/N) wasn't exactly loving the fact that she was enjoying this.

______

The hot pancakes Jax and (Y/N) were eagerly anticipating finally arrived at the table.

"Thank you darling", the blond biker said to the waitress while intensionally making his voice sound a little deeper. He was smirking the entire time while sitting all laid back, exuding confidence. The young girl gave him a cheeky smile and went her own way.

"Do you ever take a break?" (Y/N) questioned him sarcastically.

"A break of what?" Jax asked, a playful look on his face since he obviously knew what she was talking about.

"Hitting on innocent women."

"She was eyeing me since the minute we walked in."

The only way she could respond was with an unamused look.

"Also don't act all innocent to me. You're worse than I am", he said before letting out a chuckle and taking a big bite of his pancakes.

"What are you talking about? I don't hit on any person on a 18 feet radius, at any given time and place."

"Well yeah, that's because you're too scared to actually hit on them so you just stare from afar."

(Y/N) kicked his leg under the table.

"Ouch", he screamed in a playful manner while rubbing his leg. "You bitch", he whispered.

"That's not true."

"You were staring at Juice the entire time we were at TM. Didn't even say hello to him."

"Staring at what?" She asked while laughing, not even understanding that with the word Juice, Jax was refering to a person.

"The guy back at the garage. Mohawk and tribal tattoos. You were practically drooling over him."

"No I wasn't", she sounded offended.

"You can't hide from me girl. You know that. I know you better than I know myself."

"Ok he's hot... I was looking, yeah... but 'drooling over him' is an overstatement."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say", he raised his eyebrows while taking a sip of water.

"Jax!"

"You weren't even listening to what me and Chibs were saying."

"Actually I was actively trying not to listen to your club... business... stuff."

Jax rolled his eyes at her desperate attempt to change the subject.

"You could've at least say hello, you know. Dude doesn't bite."

"Are you sure about that? He looked like he could bite to me. If I'm being honest I was kinda scared of him."

Jax started laughing. "Scared? Of Juice? I can guarantee you he was more scared of you than you were of him."

"What do you mean?" she asked amused.

"Let's just say that not everyone has their way with women like I do."

"You're an idiot."

"No seriously, he'd get nervous even if he was around a female dog."

"What? He looked pretty confident to me. Intimidating. And scary as I said before."

Jax couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh. "You know, underneath all the leather and the tattoos, we're still human. Didn't you like Chibs?"

"He was pretty nice I guess. Well, when I could make out what he was saying", she said referring to his thick accent.

"See? And Juice is even... milder...", he was trying to find the right word, "than Chibs. Dude's into technology and computers, coding and shit. He's a total nerd."

"He's still an outlaw biker. Seriously, could you ever imagine me being with someone like that Juice guy?"

"With the stupid haircut of his? Hell no, you deserve way better."

"Jax, I'm serious."

"Well... no, it's not the easiest thing to imagine, but you're full of surprises baby, I know that", he chuckled.

"A mohawk, head tattoos and chains hanging from his pants is a pretty big surprise though, don't you think? And these fucking leather jackets."

"I've told you a million times, they're called kuttes."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"(Y/N), if you can be best friends with me, you can date a guy like Juice, trust me. Also I have chains on my pants too, should I be offended?" he was once again teasing her.

"Yes."

"You should meet him. And by meet him I mean like actually have a conversation." He was trying to find a reason for her to meet the Sons after all those years, meet the other part of him she had been avoiding for so long.

"I'm not getting into your club business shit for some boy, Jackie. Especially a boy with a fucking mohawk."

"I'm not asking you to get into the club shit. Trust me, I wouldn't want that", he was all serious now, "I'm just saying that you can meet the guys. They are my family. They... they're a part of me. You met Chibs, he was ok. You know we don't only talk about dead bodies and guns. We have other interests as well."

She was quiet, not knowing how to respond, so he continued:

"We are family (Y/N). They've been there for me through my hardest times, just like you have. Maybe you have more things in common than you think. Besides, I think you and Juice would make a great duo", he told his best friend, smirking after the last sentence.

_____

A few days later (Y/N) was heading to TM once again. She had agreed with Jax that when she'd come to pick up her car, she'd come in the clubhouse to meet the guys for the first time.

So there she was, nervous, walking slowly towards the clubhouse entrance. Second thoughts were taking over her mind.

I don't know if I'm ready for this. I'm not meant to be involved in this kind of stuff... with these kind of people. What am I supposed to have in common with a bunch of criminal bikers? If only it wasn't for this dumb, scary, hot ass Juice dude.

To her surprise the dumb, scary, hot ass Juice dude was sitting by himself on a bench outside the clubhouse.

Shit, shit, shit. Ok. Go talk to him. No I can't go talk to him. I have to walk right by him anyway, I should talk to him. What am I supposed to say? I can just say hello. Or hey. God just look away.

Juice was looking down at something so she hoped he wouldn't look up at her. She was getting closer, still overthinking.

I should ask him about my car. Or Jax... yeah, I should ask him where Jax is.

Juice looked up giving her a small smile that made her knees weak.

"Hey... you're Jax's friend right? If you're looking for him he's probably in the clubhouse", the tan biker spoke first, making everything way easier for her. The truth is he did know who she was, that's for sure. 'Jax's cute bubbly friend whose car was breaking down constantly.'

"Awesome, thank y-" she didn't finish her sentence. She had felt something against her ankles, so she looked down. To her surprise there was a small gray kitten slithering between her legs and rubbing its small head against her ankles.

"I think she likes you", Juice said with a wide smile, the kind where his eyes smile as well. Apparently that's why he was looking down earlier.

"It took her weeks to trust me and stop running away from me and now she's all up on you the minute she meets you. I'm kind of offended actually", he said before letting out an adorable laugh, while spreading his right arm close to (Y/N)'s shoes, making the kitten rub its face on his big palm. He eventually grabbed it and put it gently on his lap where he was sitting.

A 'badass' biker dressed in black leather, full of tattoos and with a fucking knife hanging off his belt, petting a small kitten that was purring loudly on his lap. The contrast in this image was pretty apparent, to say the least. (Y/N) was sitting there taking in this unusual sight before he spoke again:

"She's a stray. Found her by some trash cans a few weeks ago and fed her. Now she won't leave." He was busy petting the cat, only looking up to face (Y/N) by his last sentence.

What he said, along with his big smile at the end, warmed her heart. Maybe bikers do have feelings after all. He suddenly didn't appear all scary to her. She sat on the bench next to him and although confident, it took all the courage she had.

"Why don't you take her to the animal shelter?" she asked while petting the cute kitten that was still on his lap.

"I wanted to... but I couldn't", a loud laugh escaping his lips. "I tried, I promise", he added while raising his hands in the air in an 'I'm innocent' motion. "I mean look at that face."

The cat was looking up at them, its green eyes shining. She was still petting it, when her hand accidentally brushed against Juice's.

"She's so cute", (Y/N) said after a few moments of silence while looking at the kitten, in order to change the sudden awkward atmosphere.

"She is", he said softly while looking at the cat and then up to the girl next him, not knowing who he was referring to either.

"I wanted to take her home but I'm too busy for a pet, you know, with the club an' all. I'm not even home that much. I wouldn't want to neglect her."

"I've always wanted a cat, but never really made the decision. I... I would love to get her... Well, if you're okay with that of course."

"Yeah, of course", he exclaimed all excited, "it breaks my heart knowing she's out here day and night. Getting her a home is everything I could ask for... you're gonna have to let me visit her though."

A sexy smirk appeared on his face and (Y/N) responded with a lovely smile. Maybe meeting the club wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 10

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, is showered in love and support, learns how to be a person again, and tries to protect those like him from going through what he did.

Content warnings: Panic attacks, vomiting, Caleb's backstory

Chapter summary: There's not a lot Caleb can do right now, but he can teach a hurting teenager a new spell and reunite him with his very much alive parents.

Chapter notes: I 100% believe that Astrid knows the Nein call Essek "Hot Boi." Chapter title is from Ghost by Jacob Lee.

****

Chapter 10: And I'm just a stranger who could be a friend

The first thing Caleb did was flip to the page in his spellbook where he had transcribed the Sending spell. It was far into the book. As he pulled out his copper wire, Felix made a sound of surprise.

“You learned this recently?” asked Felix.

“Ja, I travelled with a cleric friend for a long time who had the spell,” Caleb replied. “Not Caduceus; he was there too, though. Jester seemed to enjoy casting it at everyone, even mere acquaintances, so I never saw the need for it.”

“What made you learn it?”

“Jester insisted a few weeks ago, so I could talk to her while we were apart. I knew another wizard who could teach me, and we were spending a great deal of time alone together exploring Aeor, and exchanging theories.”

Felix, despite his distress, was absolutely smirking at Caleb and he was not about to deal with teasing from an actual child. “So… exchanging theories in Aeor? Is that what old people call it now?”

“Hush.” Caleb ran Felix through the basic somatic motions of the spell, before demonstrating it himself. “Hallo, Caduceus. I am teaching Felix the Sending spell. It will take a few hours. Let me know if anything happens.”

“Hey, Caleb. Beau has the monks looking for Nico. They’re playing nice with the Volstrucker, apparently. Don’t miss dinner.”

“Right, so you can have a single two-way exchange out of the one casting,” said Felix. “What’s the word limit again?”

“Twenty-five words. Now, this is a third-level spell. It will take some effort for you at the moment.”

“I’ve been to school, Bren. I know what spell levels are.”

“Call me Caleb. Or Professor Widogast, if you prefer. I do teach here now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Caleb’s fine.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Professor.”

This was better. Caleb could work with impetuous children. Most children he knew were like that. Caleb could tune his behaviour to whatever Felix seemed to find most calming. Or at least distracting.

Felix had great attention to detail, methodically copying out Caleb’s transcription of the spell and yet still finding excuses to make fun of Caleb along the way. It was comfortable, more than Caleb had expected. Felix only knew him by reputation, and one put forward by Trent, no less.

Maybe it was the shared trauma. Maybe it was the fact Caleb was teaching him something. Or because Caleb, despite being a professor here, wasn’t trying to inhabit a position of authority over him in the way Trent had.

Snacks were delivered to the room about halfway through the process. Felix paid it little mind, and that was painfully familiar.

“Felix.” Caleb could not believe he was enforcing a break. That he had become the kind of person who would pull a focused wizard away from study for mere human needs such as food. But he was responsible for Felix, at least for now, and that was a frightening pressure.

“Busy.”

Caleb closed his own spellbook, taking away Felix’s source for transcription. In its place, he put a bowl of fruit. “Eat.”

Felix paused, his pen hovering over the page, frowning. Then he slowly set it down and sullenly grabbed a plum. Caleb sat back against the wall, nibbling on a handful of grapes.

“Don’t forget to stretch before we get back to it.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Listen, I’ve had many people do this for me in the last year alone. So I’m paying it forward, and you are going to accept that.” Caleb tried to throw a grape into his mouth, and missed. He grabbed it off the floor and popped it into his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. “It’s good for you.” If any of the Nein had heard him say that, they probably would have fainted from shock. It was easier to give this advice than to follow it himself.

“I can see why Trent fucking hates you.”

Caleb snorted. “Oh, this does not scratch the surface of Trent’s problems with me.” He threw another grape, catching it in his mouth this time. “Did anyone tell you what my friends and I did to him?”

“No.”

“Well, he tried to ambush us at Caduceus’s family home. One of my friends may have ‘acquired’ evidence of his experiments from Vergesson, and he was upset that I refused to entertain his ego while busy with bigger problems. By the time we were done with him, Astrid and Wulf were on our side, my friends had permanently glued a silencing collar around his neck, and used the leftover glue to stick his hands together. And that glue was in the shape of a dick.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ask Astrid. She activated the collar. Or Beauregard. She put the thing on him.”

Felix had that look of a teenage boy who was trying not to look impressed, hiding it behind a veneer of sarcasm. “Okay. I will.”

They finished their break, stretched, and got back to it. Felix was clever, eager to learn. It brought back memories for Caleb. Good memories, as tainted as they now were. And as much as he was worried for Nico and grieved for what had happened, he was also indescribably relieved they had been able to stop Felix. If he could help Felix reclaim even the smallest amount of good from his stolen childhood, he would take that as a victory.

Astrid looked in on them as Felix practiced the somatic motions around his copper wire, his muscle memory already secure. With a few minor corrections, he would be ready to cast.

“Almost finished?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Caleb. “Felix, that was very good. Just watch that you fully complete the motion right at the end, and hold it until you finish speaking your message. With time, you can find your own method.”

“You learned this method from your special Aeor friend?”

Caleb sighed. “No, these somatic components are developed from watching several casters perform the spell. My colleague provided the basic framework to learn the spell, but his somatic components are more intricate than my own.”

“So he’s your fancy special Aeor friend.”

Astrid chuckled. “It’s not the silliest nickname he’s had. Now, focus. The Martinet is sticking his nose in our business and we need to get you out of here.”

Felix wordlessly practiced the gesture again, meticulously correcting his errors. He ran through the motion a few more times, becoming more confident each time.

“I think you are ready,” said Caleb. “Remember: twenty-five words. Consider them in advance. It may be worth telling Nico he can reply to you.”

Felix nodded and closed his eyes, counting on his fingers under his breath. And then he cast. “Hey, Nico. It’s Felix. I heard what happened. I’m okay. They stopped me. I hope you’re okay. You can reply to this message.” The barest pause. “Love you.” Felix held his breath, listening out for a reply.

Caleb let him have ten seconds, before breaking the news. “Felix. If he has not replied yet--”

“I know,” Felix muttered. He grabbed his spellbook, hugging it to his chest as he deflated, and Caleb’s heart broke. “Just… get me out of here.”

****

Astrid’s teleport brought the three of them back to Blumenthal. The path was muddy from yesterday’s storm. Felix gripped his spellbook tighter, raking his eyes over the buildings around them. The way he held himself, shoulders hunched, inches from bolting, reminded Caleb far too much of himself mere months ago.

“Felix,” he said. “We need to speak to your mother and father, but we will not put you in a situation you do not think you can handle.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” And wasn’t that just painfully familiar. They had barely made it a few steps before he froze, closing his eyes against the vision of home.

Astrid looked to Caleb, silently begging for him to do something.

“Felix,” said Caleb, completely panicking on the inside, “we will not force you to do anything you don’t want to. Okay? Let’s walk for a bit. Take deep breaths. If we reach your house and you don’t want to go inside, I will stay with you and Astrid will talk to your parents. Is that all right?”

Felix nodded, and he took a step. Then another step. And another. They walked together down familiar but unfamiliar streets. They were in a different part of Blumenthal than they had been yesterday. Caleb blocked out most of it, concentrating on getting Felix through the next few minutes. His own shit did not matter right now.

Felix’s body language remained tense. His head stayed down, barely keeping an eye on where he was going. His fingers flexed around his spellbook. And Caleb was planning. A hundred different options.

Caleb refused to force this boy to face his parents before he was ready. If the time came, and he couldn’t do it, he would need somewhere else to go. Somewhere away from here. If Astrid allowed it, there were a few options. Veth in Nicodranas would take Felix if Caleb asked, but he wasn’t sure if Felix would feel comfortable being around a family like that, especially with a small child. Or Felix could stay at the Lavish Chateau, but Marion was a busy woman who had been through enough on Caleb’s account. There was the Gentleman’s hideout, but Caleb wouldn’t want to leave him alone there. He could take Felix to the Blooming Grove, where the Clays would willingly care for him, but taking a boy who almost killed his parents to a graveyard was possibly not the best option.

There was Reani, wherever she was, but he wasn’t so sure that Felix could handle her on his own, or that her rigid morality had shifted enough to take him in without killing him if she found out even a fraction of the shit he did while under Trent’s power. Taking Felix to Nila and her young family, who Caleb believed had returned to her clan, would bring up many of the similar issues as taking him to Veth. And the Guiatao clan had suffered greatly at the hands of the Iron Shepherds, including many deaths, so Caleb wasn’t sure that would be a good place for him to cope with nearly killing his own parents.

And Caleb was not putting Felix on a pirate ship, so that ruled out Fjord, Jester and Kingsley.

They could always bring Felix back to Rexxentrum and he could either stay on Astrid’s estate (possibly too traumatic) or with Caleb and the lesbians, but Ludinus was poking around and that could get messy. Not to mention the whole “harbouring a Drow fugitive” thing.

Caleb circled back to Veth. If Felix could handle it, he would feel most comfortable taking the boy to her if he wasn’t able to go home. Caleb hadn’t told her what happened yet; he was not looking forward to that conversation. Even if it would help him in the end.

Of course, this all depended on Felix. If he agreed to go home, this would be irrelevant. But Caleb felt better having come up with a plan.

They reached a quiet street. Felix headed to the house at the far end, partially concealed by a granary. Caleb thought, with faint nausea, that even the physical isolation of their parents’ homes could have been a factor for Trent.

Felix made it all the way to the small vegetable garden out the front of the house, but faltered between the carrots. He stared up at the modest house. A single-storey affair, small even for a family of three. The front door was painted cherry red. The boy’s lips parted; no sound came out. His eyes traced the features of the house - the red door, the two small windows, the thatched roof in need of maintenance.

A woman’s face appeared at the window. And the door flew open.

“Felix!” The woman ran out of the house, and Caleb was just barely able to take in her simple dress and heavy coat, blonde hair gathered in a loose bun. But as she got close, Felix stepped back, wide eyes fixed on her face, as she spoke in rapid Zemnian. “No one has heard from you in weeks. Where have you been? Are you okay?”

“I can’t do this.” And he was backing away. “I can’t.” He tore his eyes from her, and ran.

“Go after him,” Astrid told Caleb. He wasted no time chasing after the boy. Caleb had run from a great many things in the past few years, but he was not the fastest man alive. But he was fast enough.

Felix barely made it around the granary before he collapsed into the grass. Gasping for breath.

Caleb knelt beside him. “Felix, listen to me. You’re okay. Slow down, breathe. Let the air fill your lungs. Feel the grass beneath your hands.”

Felix dug his fingers into the dirt, gulping in air. He was listening, at least. Being on the other side of this was not especially familiar to Caleb, but he had coached Essek once or twice. He could do this. They could do this.

Of course, Felix barely knew him, so it wasn’t like Caleb could just hug him. That would probably make things worse. So he would have to use his words.

“Felix, you got this. How does the grass feel?” Caleb gave Felix a moment to process, and then he supplied options, taking a pause between each. “Is it dry? Wet? What colour is it?”

Felix coughed a little, sucking in a shaky breath. “Wet. Green.” His hand slid across the grass. “Short. Muddy.”

“Good.”

Felix leaned away and vomited onto the grass. Then he staggered to his feet, grabbing Caleb’s shoulder for support. They moved a little further from the house, and Felix leaned against the granary, knocking the back of his head against the wood. And he laughed, that kind of unhinged, hysterical laugh that was not funny at all. Caleb knew it well.

And then he was in tears. Caleb reached for his shoulder, carefully, and Felix didn’t shake him off.

“I was going to kill her,” Felix said quietly. “If you hadn’t… I almost murdered my parents. I love them. I love them… and it didn’t matter. I was going to… oh gods....”

“Felix,” Caleb said, and did a very poor job hiding the tremor in his voice. “I am so glad we found you.”

“What the fuck does it matter? I would’ve done it.”

“Felix, as somebody who did… it matters a great deal.”

Felix stared up at him, eyes wide and wild.

“I will not force you to go home if you’re not ready,” Caleb said, pulling his voice back under control. “All I will say is this: I would have given anything to see my mother and father again. I almost did. And I know it hurts to look at your mother, knowing that you were going to end her life because of a lie. But you didn’t. She is still here. So is your father. And you have time to heal, all three of you.”

Felix wiped his face on his sleeve, cleared his throat. “Okay. Danke.”

***

Astrid was seated at a small dining table with Felix’s mother and father. Nobody got up from the table when Caleb brought Felix in, though it took visible restraint from his parents. Felix took after his mother--blonde hair, blue eyes, soft features--but he was closer to his father’s build.

The father tore his eyes from Felix with visible effort, and when his gaze fell on Caleb, he froze. And Caleb recognised him, and his wife. Friedrich Schneider and Louise Fischer--probably Schneider now. They were a few years older than him, but he could recall playing together as children.

“I heard you were back,” said Friedrich. “You were helping Nico out yesterday, ja?”

“Ja, I was there,” Caleb said carefully. “As were Astrid and Wulf.”

Louise pulled out the chair next to her. “Felix, come here.”

Felix, still gripping his spellbook like a lifeline, shuffled over and fell into the seat. Caleb sat next to Astrid on the opposite side of the table to the family.

“I have given some details of Master Ikithon’s arrest,” Astrid told him. “We were just about to discuss options for support. If you would?”

“Ja, of course.” Caleb compartmentalised his old memories and focused on the task ahead of him. “We are organising a support group for Ikithon’s former students. We are still nailing down those details, but we will be sure to pass them on. I have also been appointed as a teacher at Soltryce Academy, and we are hoping to put the students back into school when they feel ready.”

Louise and Friedrich grasped at Felix, who curled in on himself but did not complain.

“We just got him home,” said Louise. “After everything Astrid has told us, why would we let him go back?”

“The students in Felix’s position are at a delicate stage of development,” Astrid said, with little inflection, and Caleb sensed she was compartmentalising as well. “They are quite skilled, but have lost the guidance they had. That is dangerous. Good or bad, Ikithon was…” She sighed, and the mask melted away a little. “He engineered this situation. We were dependent on him. Even those whose families still live. Bren, you have been out of his influence longer. Do you have thoughts?”

“Ja, I do.” Caleb had spent his fair share of time soul-searching in the past few weeks, as well as the past year as a whole. “Ikithon shaped each of his students in a very specific way: patriotic to a fault, willing to do anything to get the job done, and unfalteringly loyal to him. It is a gradual process. By the time you realize it is happening, you have already done terrible things at his command. For most, there was no way out. My situation is unique, because I was able to escape in a rather dramatic fashion, but it has taken years to shake off the influence he had on me. I was alone and homeless for most of that time, and let me tell you: almost every fragment of positive change in me happened in the past year, because I had a support network. I found people who cared about me, and they learned how to help me. It was a group effort. I am now in a position to offer that kind of support to others.”

“Say we let him go back,” said Friedrich. “Will he have to live in that place?”

“Not all the time,” said Astrid. “You are not far from Rexxentrum, so I do not see a problem if he wishes to come home regularly. Bren and I both live off-campus if he needs a break but cannot make it to Blumenthal.”

“You do not need to decide now,” said Caleb. “The seniors do not start for another few weeks.”

“We’ll think about it,” Friedrich said flatly. “What happened to Nico?”

“He did it,” Felix said quietly. “Had a breakdown. Ran the fuck away.”

“We have people searching for him,” said Astrid. “Bren taught Felix a spell to talk to him, if he likes.”

“He prefers Caleb,” Felix muttered.

“Danke, Felix.” Caleb had not expected Felix to speak up on his behalf, not when he had his own shit going on. “Astrid gets a pass and, well, your parents knew me when we were children. I go by Caleb Widogast these days, but I will answer to either name.”

“Why the change?” asked Friedrich, still in that flat tone of distrust.

“I went by many names after I escaped Master Ikithon,” said Caleb. “For safety. I gave that one to a woman who eventually became my best friend. Now, it’s my name. But, for you, I don’t mind.”

Both Friedrich and Louise did not look trusting. At all. A mere muscle twitch from openly glaring at Caleb and Astrid, really.

Louise sighed, and some of the hostility dropped. “Thank you for bringing Felix home.”

“We will check in regularly,” said Astrid.

“Felix can message either of us with the spell I taught him,” said Caleb. “If he so wishes.”

Things were too tense to continue much conversation. Caleb and Astrid said their goodbyes, and left. They did not speak, except for Astrid’s short incantation to teleport them back to Rexxentrum.

They landed on the outskirts of the Shimmer Ward. Astrid immediately combed her fingers through her hair, hands shaking.

“That was…” She groaned softly. “Thank you for coming. I will keep you updated on the search for Nicolaus.” She turned on her heel and marched deeper into the ward, pausing for a split second, before she continued onwards without looking back.

Caleb slowly worked his way back to and through the Tangles until he was home. He couldn’t fault Astrid for being distant right at the end. The last twenty-four hours had been intense for everyone involved.

It was close to dinnertime as he reached the house. He entered his side and shut the door, leaning against it as the strength left his body. He’d done it. Today had been two-thirds of a shitshow, and he had made it through.

Felix was home with his parents, and he had the means to contact Nico, and Caleb himself, if he wanted. That was a win.

Nico, however…

Caleb knew, intellectually, that it had been a freak occurrence. A series of imperfections had tangled together into a knot, and that knot had been Nico’s escape. Almost every wizard in that room had more than one try at countering Nico’s spell, but they had not been unable to unravel it. Nico, empowered by panic and grief, had thrown all he had into a powerful fireball, and had the adrenaline to power through what should have hurt him a great deal.

Caleb hoped he was okay. Physically, at least. Psychologically, Caleb knew he wasn’t.

He sat on the floor, resting his back against the door. And he tried something. Coil of wire in hand. “Hello, Nicolaus. This is Caleb Widogast. You may know me as Bren Ermendrud. I was with you today. I’m sorry we frightened you. Be safe.”

He didn’t expect a response, and he did not receive one. A small part of him feared Nico wasn’t responding because he was dead. It was all too likely. There was no way he hadn’t been injured in the blast. Once the adrenaline wore off, the pain could’ve taken over and left him vulnerable to any number of attackers.

Gods, if after all this, Nico had died on the side of a road…

Caleb was tired. But he forced his fingers to cooperate, and worked through another casting.

“Me again. I want you to know: Trent Ikithon is in prison for what he did to us. You’re welcome in my home, when ready.”

Again, no response.

“Caleb?” A form slid into view at the top of the stairs, blending into the dark, but Caleb knew Essek’s voice anywhere.

“Ja,” he said, with the remaining strength he had. “Felix is home. We have both tried to message Nico, with no response. I…” He didn’t want to speak it into existence, so he shifted the morbid statement on his tongue into something more positive. “I hope he’s alive.”

Essek floated down the stairs and sat beside him, squeezing into the remaining doorspace. “If he's anything like you, I would expect nothing less.”

“Danke.” Caleb dropped his head onto Essek’s shoulder, and let himself rest.

[fritae]

The Missing Piece - Ch 10

Worries 🌸

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x f. oc, lov

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

I spend hours turning in bed, replaying Dabi's words to me earlier.

He cares about me.

Right?

That's the only way I could interpret what happened. He got angry on my behalf, even though he didn't look it.

My cheeks redden as I recall how warm he was to hold, despite most certainly being the most awkward hugger I've ever met. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to remember what it was like.

It wasn't a short hug...but I wish it was longer.

Snap out of it, I tell myself with a groan.

I'm so touch starved I can't believe a hug from Dabi would make me feel this way.

I jolt in bed when I hear the front door open.

"Aliyah?"

Within moments, my suite mate bursts into my room, jumping onto my bed.

"Who is he?!" She screams with glee. "That's your boss?!"

My heart paced with excitement. "Yeah. Nice, right?"

"Nice?!" She jumps up again. "He's so hot - but something about him -"

She suddenly stops.

"What?" I ask her cautiously.

But after a few moments of consideration, she shrugs. "I don't know, forget it. I feel like I've seen him before."

I shrug. "Might have run into him at a corporate event or something? The company may not be all that but Dabi looks like he's been around."

She nods. "You're right, that's probably it. And oh my god," Her voice picks up, that excitement creeping in again. "Mr. Lane's face! He's so pissed you don't even know, oh my god, he's probably still fuming! He didn't even last for the whole dinner, he called his new secretary and told her to run a background check on Mr. Dabi and the company."

"He's a psycho," I laughed. But then a troubling thought occurred to me. "But he wouldn't do anything to the company, would he?"

Aliyah shrugs. "Beats me. You can never tell with Mr. Lane."

I shake the thought out of my head. Choosing to focus on the good (and the fact that Aliyah is here early for once!), I eagerly share what life has been like for me at the Blaze. I leave out certain details of course, especially those conferencing Dabi and company intel, but I'm overjoyed by Al's interest.

And when we finally say goodnight, hours after we were supposed to, I lay in bed again - already thinking of tomorrow.

- --

"Dabi won't be in today," Tenko tells me in the morning.

I pout.

"Why not?"

He shrugs. "He told me and Jin to put a pause on new intake for the next few days so I don't think there's much to do, either. Honestly, if you want to go home from now, you probably can."

He didn't ask for any updates or give me instructions this morning either. I thought maybe he was waiting for me to come in to let me know what we'd be doing today.

He said he'd see me tomorrow, I remember. I try not to feel disheartened. He's a CEO, after all.

It's just...I was looking forward to seeing him today.

"You gonna go?" Tenko snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Oh," I say apologetically. "Nah, I'm used to being here all day. I'll try to make myself useful somehow."

I leave him and head for Dabi's office and go through his correspondence, rescheduling any meetings he would have had today or tomorrow for later in the week. If he isn't in the office today, he'll likely want to be briefed whenever he comes in. He won't be in the mood for a meeting.

Hours and hours pass as I spend my time overlooking the company employees and making a record of potential clients.

After I finish a few late night phone calls for Dabi and make notes of the most urgent things he should know when he comes in tomirrow, I decide to go find the others.

But when I walk into the lounge, the only ones I find are Atushiro and Toga. They're huddled together on the couch, talking in hushed tones.

It is pretty late at night. Perhaps they went home already.

"Hey guys," I say with a smile, carrying a few sodas with me. Immediately, they sit back and put some distance between them.

"Hey," Toga says. They accept the sodas with a smile.

"What've you been up to?" I ask them. I pop open my can. "It feels like there isn't much to do today."

"Why do you sound upset about that?" Atsuhiro comments with a laugh.

I get flustered at that. "I know, I know. I'm a workaholic. I don't know what to do with my life outside of work."

"Go home!" Toga says with a groan. "You've done more than enough today! Dabi specifically didn't give us work and you're over here doing extra."

I groan. "I don't want to go home though, what would I do?"

They both laugh. "Normal people things! Watch a show, paint your nails, order Chinese - you know, hashtag self care or whatever."

I roll my eyes, stalling for time. I don't know why, I just don't feel like going home just yet.

I put my phone down and lay back on the couch.

"Maybe I'll just stay here."

"Go home!" They shout.

I laugh and put my legs down.

"How come you guys aren't going home?"

The two of them share a look.

"We have things to take care of later tonight." Atsuhiro says.

That makes me sit up. "Ooh what kind of things? For Dabi?"

He nods.

I feel a pang in my chest. Why did he give them something to do and not me?

But they've been here longer, I try to reason with myself. They're friends and partners. He's known them for years. If anything urgent comes up, of course they'd be the ones he reaches out to.

I think quickly. "Is he coming in later or something?"

Toga hits me. "No, he isn't. Are you trying to find an excuse to do more work?"

I shake my head with a laugh, but I secretly feel...disappointed. It's not that I want more work, I just...was hoping to see him. Work just happens to be the only way I can do so.

Of course he isn't coming in later, though. It's already 10pm. Most of the company clocked out hours ago. And he undoubtedly has things to do if he hasn't come in.

He didn't even have time to respond to my text.

"Okay," I sigh in defeat. The two high five each other, and I pout as they lead me downstairs.

"I'll be back tomorrow," I tell them quickly as I leave. "If you guys need anything at all, just shoot me a text!"

"We'll be good, don't worry about us!" They wave.

I shove my hands in my pockets and make my way to the bus stop.

They'd text me, right?

But something dawns on me just before I get to the bus.

I freeze, my fingers digging around.

But there's nothing.

I pat all around me and check my purse for good measure.

"Shit, I forgot my phone!

I quickly run back to the Blaze.

---

I enter the marble doors again, only for some reason there's something different in the air.

As I make my way upstairs, I hear a murmur of activity. There's a frown on my face as I try to figure out what is going on.

I head up to the lounge, but this time it is empty and the lights are all off.

The only sounds come from Dabi's office at the end of the hall.

Is something wrong? I wonder with a frown.

I make my way to his office, my heart pounding in place.

With a single knock, I turn the knob. And my heart falls as I lock eyes with Dabi sitting behind his desk.

Dabi immediately sighs, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. "Shit."

"What's going on here?" I ask.

Standing around him are Tenko, Jin, Toga and Atsuhiro, the last two staring back at me with wide eyes.

No one answers me.

I look from one face to another.

Eventually Dabi looks up at Jin, an unforgiving glare in his eyes. "What the fuck happened to she left?"

Jin shrinks under his gaze. "That's what Toga told me!"

I feel my heart fall. Was he avoiding me?

"Do...you not want me around?" I swallow.

I don't look at him as I ask, afraid of what I might find in his face. So he was. I glance around, hooking my purse on my shoulder and turn around. "Sorry, I just came back because I forgot my phone. I'll- I'll go-"

Dabi pushes his chair back. "Rina, wait-"

But when I look back at him, I gasp.

My hand unconsciously covers my gaping mouth.

"Dabi, you're- you're..."

He's bleeding.

Not a drop or two this time.

But a circle of red adorns his lower left side. He holds a now equally red rag to the area to stop the flow. I look at him in horror but he turns his face away from me.

"Fuck," I hear him mutter through gritted teeth.

"Dabi, what's-" I feel my eyes water.

I immediately run up behind his desk, my hand clutching the one he holds to his wound.

"What's wrong? You're gonna be okay, right? What do I do- we need to take you to a hospital - Toga, help me! You're gonna be okay Dabi, I'm here."

Toga shuffles forward but Dabi glares at her. "I'm not going to a fucking hospital, I'll be fine." I feel bad for the way he yells at her. After all, it was my suggestion. "I just need to stop the bleeding."

I turn back to look at the others, but the lack of shock on their faces stuns me.

"Did you guys know about this?"

Atsuhiro runs his neck and avoids my gaze too. Suddenly the frequent questions about when I'd go home made sense.

"I see." My voice cracking. "Is that why you guys were waiting for me to leave?"

"Well, that NNTV douchebag-"

"Toga!" Dabi growls.

I turn to Dabi, my blood turning to ice. "Does this have something to do with Mr. Lane?"

He ignores me. "Take everyone and leave." He tells Toga. When they don't move immediately, Dabi snaps. "Now."

The team scrambles out the room. If it weren't the circumstance, I'd laugh when Jin stumbled. But as soon as we're alone, I turn back to him and clutch the lapels of his jacket.

"Don't lie to me," I say. "Please Dabi."

The man groans and sits back on his chair, as if there wasn't blood dripping out of his side. I pull up a seat and sit next to him, my hand closing in on his, holding the rag in place.

"We're gonna have issues with Lane," Dabi mutters. "I uh, went to see him today. But...it's like he was expecting me."

"Why would he be expecting you?" My mouth drops. "You mean to tell me Mr. Lane did this to you?"

Dabi sighs.

When he takes to long to reply, I press the rag harder.

"Hey!" He grimaces. "Okay, okay. You know how I told you I have business to take care of on the side?"

"Yes."

"Well. I think he found out a couple things."

I lean in closer. "My friend told me about that! She said he ordered a background check on you, he wanted to know everything."

Dabi shrugs. "Yeah well, if he knows who I am, then he doesn't just have everyday knowledge. He probably deals with shady shit too."

Too?

My heart pounds in fear.

"And who the hell told you to go pay him a visit!" I hit his arm. Dabi immediately groans and I recoil. I cautiously touch his arm. "Sorry."

He shakes his head.

I motion for him to go on as I find a little bowl of water under his desk.

As he talks, I absentmindedly take the rag and rinse it into the bowl. He probably intended to do that himself had I not come in. I squeeze the blood out and just as I am about to press it against his skin, I wince at the sight. The blood was dripping out slowly, meaning the wound wasn't too deep. But that's clearly a stab wound. Dabi got close enough to someone that they were able to pull a knife on him.

What if it had been worse? What if I had lost him today?

"Dabi," I interrupt him. He looks down at me, the blue in his eyes could be green in this light. I softly brush my thumb against the wound. His eyes darken in response, and I feel my heart ache at the way he grabs my hand. "Stop."

"Who told you to go to him, you idiot," I punch his arm again. "What the hell were you thinking."

He grips both my hands now. "I had to send a message."

"What kind of stupid message was worth this?"

"Now he knows not to mess with my people." Dabi replies. My eyes go wide.

I'm part of his people.

The thought brings a blush to my cheeks and I get angry at myself. Look where that got him.

If he is like this after hearing one conversation between me and Mr. Lane...

"Besides..."

I wipe my eyes into my elbow.

"He probably won't be taking any more cars for a while now," Dabi smirks. "If that guy of his didn't pop up out of nowhere.."

He leaves that open ended.

Did Dabi really plan on hurting Mr. Lane?

The thought sends a shudder down my spine.

Just who was Dabi.

What did Mr. Lane find?

"Were you going to..." I whisper. "..you know."

Dabi looks completely nonchalant, as if he had gone to leave Mr. Lane flowers or something.

"I was just gonna scare him." He says, and despite everything, it sounds honest. "Sure, he didn't think I'd go that far. But I miscalculated too. Now I gotta fuck him up before he tries to fuck me up."

I swallow. Is this what Dabi meant by information comes with a cost over here?

"I'm sorry Dabi," I tell him, my tears falling over my now bloody hands. "I didn't want you speaking to Mr. Lane and if I-"

"Relax," Dabi cuts me off. "I'm going to make use of that guy. I'm just trying to find the right moment."

I let go of the rag.

"You can't be possibly planning on seeing him again."

Dabi doesn't respond.

The tears start to fall again. "You promised me I wouldn't need to worry about you," I say, my voice getting shakier and shakier. "You said goodbye and see you tomorrow, knowing you were fucking going to Mr. Lane today!"

Dabi looks at the door in alarm, and his eyes narrow. He grabs the hand I'm waving in his face and I could tell his patience was running thin. "Rina, I'm trying here. If you saw what Mr. Lane looks like now you wouldn't be so worried about me. But I'm gonna need you to lower your voice."

I turn my face away from him and wipe the tears from under my eyes. Dabi suddenly gives me a weird look and I glance at my hands.

Fuck.

I grab a napkin and rub the blood off my face until I can wash it off later.

He watches me cautiously. I don't meet his eyes as I take the rag off to rinse it again.

"Stop moving," I mutter, lightly dabbing his skin with the wet cloth.

Dabi hisses.

"Sorry. Does it hurt?"

Dabi groans. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Just...shut up. Stop moving so much."

Dabi grows silent.

For the next half hour, I continue my ministrations, avoiding his gaze. I know having me so close to him makes him slightly uncomfortable. But I don't care.

"Take off your shirt," I tell him once the bleeding seems to stop. "I'll try to wrap it up."

"No."

I look at him, my eyes ever more hurt.

"No," He repeats, his voice more stern. "I'll do it myself later."

Without thinking, I lean against him and close my arms around his torso.

"I know you keep saying not to worry but what am I supposed to do when you walk in looking like this?" I whisper against his chest.

He looks up at the ceiling, trying to hold his breath.

"You've gotta stop doing that, princess."

My heart beats faster.

"Or what?" I challenge him, hugging him tighter.

He glances at my lips ever so briefly and looks away.

"You'll fuck me up."

I ignore him and hug him anyway, not caring about the stains that undoubtedly cover my shirt now.

I don't know long we stay that way.

Dabi doesn't hug me back this time...but he doesn't move away either.

I wish I could know what he was thinking. What he means by Mr. Lane knowing who he is, and what uses he may have for him. What he did to him today and how he was able to slip free.

But every day, I discover that more and more secrets exist between us.

[nevermindirah]

I'm having a crappy day....can I get Random 19 and Kisses 7 from your prompt list??

You sure can! Here, have a fusion of the two! I hope your day gets much, much better. <3

---

"She's hiding behind the sofa."

Nile doesn't know what she expected, when she asked her dear husband where their precious daughter is. She's had a long-ass day, and from the look of him, so has Booker. Their "date night" is about to be the most sexually charged 5-minute cuddle turned several-hour nap in history.

"And I see you're hiding on the sofa," she says with an eyebrow quirk that he meets with his very most charming sleepy smile.

He's practically been single-parenting while she and Nicky have been planning this next op. She can take this one for the team.

"Hey, baby girl," Nile calls as she walks around the couch to start what she very much hopes is not going to be a prolonged fight to get her daughter ready to go to Andy and Quynh's for the night.

"I'm a witch and this is my bog! Visitors have to pay the fee!" comes a small voice from a small girl standing up amid a pile of blankets and stuffed animals.

There she is. The bestest four-year-old of all time. Her perfect, sweet, silly, curious, determined Kiara.

Emphasis on the determined. Booker's lucky he's pretty, because he saves up his "she got it from her mama" teasing for when their daughter is being the absolute soul of stubbornness.

"Oh yeah?" Nile says. "What's the fee for visitors to your bog?"

"A hug!" Kiara grins, and then she gets that look. "And pizza!"

Nile play-gasps. "I am but a humble farmer, I have no pizza! May I pay the bog witch in hugs alone?"

Kiara is running up to her, so Nile scoops her up in her arms for the kind of big spinning bear hug she learned from her big brother Joe.

"Hi, baby girl. I missed you," Nile says into her daughter's hair.

"I missed you too, mama! Do you want to play magic with me?"

She sets Kiara down and catches Booker giving her a significant look over their daughter's head.

"I would love to hear all about your magic," she says. Here's hoping this works. "Remember, sweetheart, you're staying with Auntie Andy and Auntie Quynh tonight! Come tell me all about your spells while we get you ready!"

It works. Kiara gushes about all the frogs and wolves and unicorns and yetis who live in her bog, and the spells they cast when they all hold hands, and the yucky smelly ingredients that make pretty colors in her cauldron, and how Auntie Andy said—

Auntie Andy says a lot of things about magic to her daughter. Nile has made peace with never knowing for sure whether Andy is just fucking with her or if she's teaching her daughter actual ancient magic.

The distraction from playing magic to listening to an extended description of it works, and Kiara is still happily chattering away when it's time to say goodbye to papa and walk through the neighborhood to Andy and Quynh's. Booker scoops up their baby girl for hugs and kisses as she babbles about how the bear has awoken from his hibernation and this will make her spells even more powerful! He blows Nile a kiss over Kiara's shoulder.

By the time Nile is back from reuniting the bog witch with her ancestors — it's possible Nile should be worried about what Andy and Quynh are teaching her, but that's not a right-now problem — the house smells amazing. She takes a moment to smooth out her clothes and slap on a little lipstick before making her way into the kitchen.

Booker has changed into a clean shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms under the apron, and he's set out candles on the kitchen table.

"Hey, babe," she says, to warn him she's coming before she wraps her arms around him. He keeps chopping the strawberries for the salad while she leans her head into his shoulder, careful not to smear her lipstick all over his crisp white shirt, the only efforts either of them made at getting dressed up for their date night.

"Bonsoir, mon désir" he says. "I made quiche, should be ready in about 15 more minutes. When I'm done with the salad would you like to sit down and tell me about your day?"

She hums. "I would like for us both to be well-rested enough to spend all night working on making another baby. But that sounds nice too."

"Did Quynh tell you she wants to take Kiara to a pick-your-own farm tomorrow?" he asks.

Damn, she really is tired. She hadn't even confirmed the pickup plan. "She didn't," Nile says. "Too busy discussing bog witch business."

His shoulders shake a little with a gentle laugh. "When are you due to meet Nicky in the morning?"

"Not until 11," she says. And then she realizes what this means.

Booker sets down the knife and wipes his hands on a nearby kitchen towel. "In that case," he says, voice thick, "I know what I'd like to have for breakfast."

Nile hums again. She lifts her head so she can spin him around to face her, and instead of the smirk she was expecting, she finds he looks a little shy.

"I would love that," she says. She tilts her chin up and lets him do the rest to close the distance between them. His warm, chaste kiss fades into a brush of their noses fades into resting his forehead gently against hers. They rest there, eyes closed, arms around each other, practically asleep on their feet until the oven timer alerts them that dinner's ready.

---

I love the idea of Nile and Booker raising kids in a house they share with Andy and Quynh and Joe and Nicky and I feel a little weird reproducing the heterosexual nuclear family shit that was toxic as hell how my parents did it. But fuck it, this is an easy way to have this baby be adorable and then get her out of the house so Nile and Booker can be the grown-up kind of adorable.

Napping with someone you love is such a valid date night activity. I hope everyone reading this gets good rest tonight.

[tinalbion]

Oooooh Tiiiiinnnnnaaaaa! I have an ask for youuuu~ Could I pwease get some Sammy Wescott? You haven't written for him yet and I reallllly want to see what you could do with him! I have some dialogue prompts for you too! We got - "Are you wearing my shirt?" - "Take it off. Slowly." - "If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself." Thank you, bless you, I love you! AND most importantly have FUN with this one eh? ❤❤❤ You the best!

Bex! You big-brained and big meat having QUEEN!

I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND YOUR AMAZING PROMPTS!

And as always, I love these boys and I am very happy to finally have written something for Sammy, 

He deserves so much love and praise.

I now know that I am addicted to writing for these boys and I will never stop, especially since I need to practice for the collab we got going! 

I hope it meets your expectations and I hope you vibe and DIE HAPPY with how it turned out!

Love ya, girl!

❤❤❤ 

*

*

Rating: Explicit

Length: 3.6k

--

“Just A Reminder”

--

Nothing beat sitting by the fire when the chill in the air was a bit too much and you wouldn’t trade those evenings for the world. 

When you weren’t at camp, your family would have bonfires almost every weekend, it was such a relaxing time and it always brought you back to the good memories of camping as a kid. So whenever the counselors wanted to have a bonfire, you were more than willing to attend, even though they tend to get a tad rowdy after a few cold beers.

Sam was a bit reluctant to attend since he figured he’d be the babysitter of the adults, but when he would out you were excited about it, he laughed it off and agreed to accept your invitation. You had asked him late afternoon after chatting a bit with Kizzy and Tori about it, the girls convincing you easily enough to come around and have a good time as they blasted some good tunes and enjoyed the last week with no kids present, it would be one of the best nights for the fire! It didn’t take much to get you to agree.

You were getting ready for the hangout as you changed out of your sweaty counselor clothes and hopped into the shower, but you weren’t sure what you were going to wear so you rummaged through your luggage and found an unfamiliar tee shirt. It was a bit larger than your usual ones, definitely smelled more masculine, like a hint of cologne and woodsy, maybe some smoke. It was Sam’s, that’s right! He borrowed it to you when you were pushed into the lake near the boathouse, you had neglected to return it since your days had been so busy, your thoughts weren’t really focused on the shirt. 

Your thoughts then drifted to Sam and you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you smiled, the memories you made this year would be unforgettable and you were more than thankful to have met him, and knowing he was actually coming to the fire was a blessing since he rarely liked to be in the group due to the fact he played the parent to the group. When you promised him it wouldn’t be like that this time, he did that little smirk you adored so much and scoffed, still unsure if he made the right decision, but you would be there and it would be worth it.

The time came and you had slipped into a pair of faded cut off jean shorts, his tee shirt draped over your frame, then you finished it off as you shrugged into an oversized flannel long sleeve. It was only a few minutes past the time the group had suggested for the bonfire to start so you were making good time as you trekked across the large grassy field, the small cooler draped over your shoulder that you decided to bring last-minute, packed with some goodies for the group to share if they desired.

You spotted the roaring flames from a couple of hundred feet away, the sound of music echoing in the area and the apparent sound of laughter only grew when you had gotten close enough. You saw Sam sitting on one of the picnic tables and sipping gingerly at the beer in his hand, his eyes looking around and making sure everything was going smoothly. His eyes scanned over the small group again and saw you just walking onto the concrete area, your eyes locked and you couldn’t help but smile shyly as you walked next to him, the breeze in the air causing you to shiver. 

“Hey Sam,” you greeted cheerfully, setting down the cooler onto the table, “you guys been here long?”

“Nah, I just got here about three or four minutes ago, the rest of them maybe about ten minutes,” he explained. He reached down beside the table and grabbed a bottle from the half-melted ice, then he handed it to you. “Made it just in time for the ghost stories.” He didn’t sound very thrilled about it.

Last time he told a ‘spooky story’, shit hit the fan really quickly. 

He shook the negative thoughts from his mind and tried his best to occupy them with something else. The music playing on the radio was enough to help if only a little. 

You smiled and thanked him for the drink, your eyes following his and watched as the crowd had sat in a circle around the firepit, their attention focused on Jason, who was talking about his time at an old camp that was hundreds of miles from this one, something so cleverly nicknamed ‘Camp Blood’. You were intrigued by the story but immediately could tell Sam wasn’t having the best time right now. You took a breath and sat down next to him on the bench, looking at him with a concerned expression, but before you could speak, he cut you off.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asked curiously, beer still against his lips as he was blatantly staring at your chest. “Wait, are you not wearing a bra either?” His voice was lower this time, almost a whisper. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass you in front of these goofs. 

You blushed in response and took a large sip at your beer. “Yes and yes, happy?”

Sam smirked and looked at you with a gleam in his eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course. You’re here.”

The comment made you want to bite your finger to quiet the squeal that almost surfaced, it was so incredibly cute. Sam was like that, always so sweet and thoughtful of what he said when you were around. Timid and introverted were the best ways to describe him, but what could he say, you brought out the fun side of him. 

You cleared your throat and smiled awkwardly. “Hope they haven’t got too out of hand so soon,” you mentioned casually, hoping to take attention from the lack of underclothes and focus it anywhere else right now. 

Sam’s attention was back on the counselors and he scoffed again as he watched how the flames behind them roared higher as Gerald added more firewood to it. “Yeah, they’ve been good for the time being, but it’s still early. I just don’t wanna end up scolding them again like I always do.”

“I notice Buddy isn’t here, he okay?” 

“Yeah, he’s just not one to join in on the drunken festivities either. I invited him, said we’d be there, but you know him. He wants to get a head start on packing everything up before the week is out. He said he’ll be happy to make tomorrow night’s fire though.”

You nodded in response and smiled, hoping Buddy didn’t just say that to make you feel better. Either way, you knew he wasn’t exactly the most social creature, so you would make it up to him by throwing him a little fire of his own with just the three of you. For tonight, you figured hanging out with the rest of the crew would be good for you guys.

“Hey Sam, you got any scary stories?” Gerald asked a few minutes later.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, not this time, guys.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Gerald directed his attention to you. 

“Nope, out of luck tonight, Ger,” you giggled and nodded your head to the song that began to play. “What about karaoke?” you offered instead.

“Aw hell yeah!” Kizzy shouted. 

A few others reacted with positive sounds while only a few groaned and shook their heads. Either way, the night’s activities were divided up amongst the group, but you and Sam sat at the table and chatted away about the plans you both had for when you went back to your normal lives. You had scooted a little closer to him and leaned your head against his shoulder as he talked, listening while your eyes focused on the fire. 

That’s when the group had all collectively yelled when a certain song came on, the amount of beer in their guts already sloshing around and impairing their motor skills. Sam groaned and was about to stand up and stop them from acting up too much, but you placed your hand on his wrist, grabbing his attention. 

“Come on, let’s let them have some fun,” you offered as you stood up and stretched your arms. 

His eyes were on you again, grazing over your chest as he could see your breasts so easily when your arms lifted high above your head. He wondered if you did this on purpose, just for him to see and to take notice, to think of you in such dirty ways while everyone around them was clueless to your actions. 

Sam stood beside you and walked alongside you as you both grabbed one more drink, silently sneaking off when the others weren’t paying much attention. The counselor breathed a sigh of relief when you were both hidden amongst the trees, the sounds of shouting and laughter fading. 

"Thanks for the distraction, Y/N, I always get a little weird near the end of the season. Always feel bummed, I miss this place when I'm gone." Sam looked up at the dark Louisiana sky and sighed, his mind elsewhere as you both walked the well-known side trail. 

You looked over at him and knew exactly what he meant because you always felt the same way. It was work, sure, but it really didn't feel that way when you and the kids would all enjoy swimming or canoeing together, it was a wonderful experience. You smiled and reached out for his hand, slipping your fingers in between his. "I get it, Sam, I'm just glad I have a new camp to attend every year." 

Of course, it was because of the boys, they were the reason you didn't want to leave, the reason you had felt the best you ever felt in the longest time. 

Your eyes darted up to the sky as soon as you stepped onto the hill, the one Sam told you about that was best for stargazing, and he wasn't wrong; it was incredible. You both looked up and just silently enjoyed the sights and each other's company, the late-night summer's breeze picking up only a little. 

Sam was the first to sit down and he patted the grass beside him. "I remember telling you about this place, my little getaway from everything," he began to ramble, "and I came up here the first night I knew I started to feel something for you."

"Sam, I came out here to have a good time, not to cry and feel emotional," you groaned and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his surprisingly firm muscles under the thicker fabric of his sleeve. 

He laughed and bumped his head against yours, his way of showing affection. "Oh, I'm sorry miss co-counselor, I forgot you like to be the happy one, right?" He teased as he ruffled your hair. That led to you both pushing one another until the mood became too heavy to ignore and you pushed for a kiss.

It started off light and soft, his skin causing yours to bristle with excitement as his hand reached out and slid to the back of your neck. Anytime Sam would allow his fingers to glide across your skin, your immediate reaction was to release a content sigh, which he always took notice of. It happened so quickly that you ended up sliding into his lap, your legs on either side of him and you straddled him as your kisses never stopped. 

It was Sam who pulled back first and smiled up at you. "I gotta say Y/N, you look pretty good in that shirt. Almost makes me regret not leaving it with you sooner." 

You smirked and ran your hands through his hair, the softness tickled your fingertips as you leaned in to kiss him again, indulging yourself in the overwhelming feelings that began to bubble up within you, the same feelings you were dealing with back in your cabin. The heat began to grow as your mouth on his became hungry and needy, your tongue grazing his lips as your hands slid from the back of his neck and drifted down to his collarbone, your fingers smoothed against his chest. He let out a satisfied hum and pushed further into your kisses, fighting as much as he could against the hardness that began to form in his jeans from your touch. His eyes were closed and he was so focused on just feeling you beneath his touch as if you were going to disappear from him forever like he needed to memorize the way you smelled and the way you felt. 

His breathing was heavy when you pulled away from him to adjust yourself, and that’s when Sam had changed on a dime completely; he wrapped both arms around your waist and rolled you over where he was now on top of you, his body between your spread legs as he looked down at you with an animalistic expression that almost made you rethink your choice of getting him worked up in the first place. Wordless, he worked on the button of your jean shorts and quickly tugged them from you, placing them off to the side where he also quickly abandoned his shirt. Your hands instinctively made their way to his chest rubbing against the hair that covered him there, his breaths now becoming close to panting while he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder and placed his hand just shy of your ankle, his other hand rubbing on the front of your panties, teasing you with his light, feathery touches. You let out a needy whine and wiggled under him, thrusting your hips upward to signal you wanted more than just a gentle touch.

“Sa-am,” you moaned as you reached up to cup his cheek, rubbing against the little stubble that started to grow in. 

He smirked and kissed your thumb as an incentive, but he had plans for you and you just needed to be patient. He quickly freed himself from his own jeans and groaned when his hand grazed himself, the mere thought of you around him already filling him with excitement. Sam’s thumb slowly started to work against the bundle of nerves that was aching to be touched without even moving your underwear aside. You cried out his name and groaned as he would rub circles against it and not even on your bare skin, it was torture!

“C’mon Sam, take ‘em off, please?” you whined, your eyes meeting his momentarily, the strain in your voice was apparent that you wanted him so badly you could barely contain your muffled sounds. 

“You ask so nicely, Y/N,” he commented as he leaned down again and gave you a lingering kiss, “but I feel like I should take my time with you tonight.” 

You were about to protest until you suddenly felt his fingers slip beneath the hem of your panties and slide against your folds, making sure you were prepped for him, but you were already soaking wet from the intense makeout you both shared. He smiled, satisfied with the outcome, and then pulled the thin article of clothing down your legs, removing your leg from his shoulder to dispose of them completely. You were eager for him to continue since you knew how well he’d perform with his fingers and his mouth, his gift, as you playfully called it. He always begged you to not refer to it like that, but secretly, he loved it.

Again, your leg was placed onto his shoulder as he laid on his stomach in the grass, his mouth finally making contact with where you needed it most. A sigh a little louder than you anticipated escaped your lips and you didn’t care, your fingers in his hair and yanking at it firmly, begging him to go faster. He didn’t oblige though you trembled beneath him, he was keeping his word and using his tongue in long, slow strokes against your heat. Every so often, he would circle it around your clit, which would cause you to arch your back and hold your breath.

Sam had finally finished teasing you, edging you to the point that he stopped mid lick and pulled away from you, licking his lips with an impish grin plastered on his face. You pouted and looked up at him, resting against your elbows as you propped yourself up.

“Sammy, why’d you stop?” you complained.

He sat upon his knees and wiped the little bit of juices from his chin. “I told you, babe, I’m taking my time with you. Now sit up for me?” His voice was lighter this time, sweetly said as he looked you over. You did as he asked and sat up for him, eager to do whatever he asked of you. “I think you need to be out of that shirt, so take it off. Slowly.”

Sam’s new attitude was one that was unexpected but so very welcomed, but for some reason, you had been feeling rather shy about his request, your hands hesitantly resting at the bottom of the shirt. Once you swallowed the lump in your throat, you looked directly into his eyes and smiled while you slowly pulled the shirt up, revealing your stomach. Painfully slowly. You could see even Sam was getting restless as he watched you reveal every inch of skin until you got to your torso, revealing the lack of coverage you flaunted this evening. He scoffed and reached out to you, his hand grazing your breast as his thumb rubbed over your nipple ever so slightly as he gauged your reactions. 

When you finally lifted the shirt over your head, you threw it behind him and practically tackled him to the ground with your bare form over him, one hand placed in the grass beside his head as your other hand slowly made its way down and gave him a single stroke. A hushed moan of your name left his lips as you moved your wrist in such a way that wanted him to come already, your hand still stroking him tortuously slowly, his strained groans dragged out in the night.

“Aww Sammy, if you keep making those sounds, I’m not going to be able to stop myself,” you warned softly.

He laughed and reached his hand up to cup your cheek. “And if I don’t want you to stop?”

That was all you really needed to answer your question, so with a smile, you crawled on top of him and straddled his hips, slowly placing his length against your throbbing sex, not allowing him to enter just yet, but letting him slide it against you, which made you moan you his name, the need so very palpable in the moment. It was a wonder you had lasted as long as you did with the teasing, but the way he spoke to you was so fucking hot, you needed to show him what he did to you. 

After a few times of rocking your hips back and forth against him, his cock so hard against you as you teased him, he finally lifted his hips, which surprised you and caught you so off guard that you fell forward, but Sam caught you in time with both arms tightly wrapped around you. His face was buried in the side of your neck as he suddenly plunged within you mercilessly, his hips slapping against yours and the sound of wetness sticking to you both made you lose yourself almost as soon as Sam began to fuck you.    

He was merciless as he lifted you just right where you didn’t have to do a thing, you just allowed him to hold onto you as he slammed into you repeatedly, your cries only growing with each deep thrust, and his mouth had been on yours, the exchange of sloppy kisses almost ending as quickly as it started when you both felt the other starting to tense up or clench down. Sam threw his head back and groaned out your name, again and again, your voice already so taken that you could barely manage to speak let alone take a breath to cry out his name in return. Sam was the first to come and his orgasm only fueled yours to happen soon after, and it took you a moment to roll off of him and catch your breath beside him in the grass. You didn’t care that you had been feeling all sorts of stickiness drip down your thighs, but you could care less as you lay there beside him, you hand found his and you held onto it and gave it a squeeze. 

“Well, that was something else,” you commented after a few moments of silence. 

“Good I hope,” Sam replied with a small chuckle, “but remind me to leave a shirt at your cabin again if this is gonna be a regular outcome.” He turned to look at you and you both laughed, his forehead gently touched yours and you sighed happily.

At least you were able to stargaze after all.