#i love him so much its actually unhealthy the way i giggle and kick my feet hearing his terror radius

[tinyspringtrap]

went on a very romantic date with The Deathslinger 🥰

[zodiakuroo]

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours.  Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle.  Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.  

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”.  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”  

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.  

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

[ohh-baekhyun]

Sugar | 03

summary: Getting into a performing arts college isn’t cheap. In desperate need of money, you sign yourself up on an online dating site called Sugar. There, you match with a wealthy man named Mr Byun.

genre: Softdom!baek, sugardaddy!au, teacherxstudent!au

taglist : in comment section. im sorry if i missed you, i deleted some of my asks the other time. let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

One Month Later

Living in a spacious apartment had its own downside. More often than not, I felt lonely, but I wasn’t complaining. Baekhyun didn’t come over everyday because he wanted to give me time to do things that didn’t involve him. I think they called it me time, whatever that was. Baekhyun said it was to prevent us from growing too dependent on each other, which could be unhealthy. And as much as I disliked it, he was right. Our relationship wasn’t permanent, and there would come a time when either one of us had to call the arrangement off. I would be sad, because that’s human, but not to the point where I became depressed.

When I wasn’t spending the day with Baekhyun, I’d be practicing the piano. After my father passed away, my stepmother had sold off our Steinway and stopped paying for my lesson. I was lucky to know a friend who allowed me to practice at her music shop for free. When I wasn’t practicing, I would be at home, taking care of my little plants on the balcony. They were like my babies.

Since Baekhyun had suggested that I learned a new language, I’d decided to take up Chinese. He had offered to hire a home tutor for me, but I insisted on learning it myself because Chinese lessons were expensive. We argued about it for a while, until he decided he wanted to learn too. We had our lesson together every Sunday afternoon for two hours. Our tutor, Miss Fei, was a long time friend of Baekhyun. And for some reason, she was always picking on me over the slightest things. Sometimes when Baekhyun wasn’t looking, she would kick my leg, step on me or pinch my arm under the table. If I had to guess, I think she didn’t respect me because she knew Baekhyun was paying for me. That’s why I’ve been working a part time job as a piano accompanist at a ballet school. It was an easy job with a reasonable pay, and I only had to be there twice a week. Thanks to that, I had finally saved enough to pay for this month’s lessons. I just didn’t know if Baekhyun would accept it.

Today was a Saturday and I was doing the homework Miss Fei had given us. I’d actually finished everything but I wanted to double check to avoid mistakes. I was scolded for making just one error last week, and if Baekhyun wasn’t there, I thought she might even beat me.

By the time I was done, I was too tired to climb to bed so I’d fallen asleep on the desk. What woke me up was the creaking sound from the door opening. I lifted my head from my folded arms and looked at the door. “Hi Mr Byun,” I greeted, my voice soft and languid. He was dressed casually in a black sweatshirt and pajama pants, his hair tousled like he had just woken up from sleep and rushed here immediately.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun asked, approaching me.

“Chinese homework,” I answered. “Can you help me check if there’s any mistake?”

He stopped behind my chair and bent over to rest his palms on the desk. His chest touched the back of my head as he scanned my workbook. Suddenly I stopped feeling sleepy but hyper aware. Baekhyun leaned closer when he reached for a pencil, and I had a feeling it was deliberate because the thing he was reaching for was just next to my book. I inhaled, feeling warm all over. Baekhyun remained silent as he continued checking my work. “This one–“ he drew a cross next to my wrong answer. “–is supposed to be a wǔ, not wù, they have different meaning, sweetheart, he explained.

I picked up an eraser and wiped it off before making a correction. If he hadn’t caught that, Miss Fei was gonna to go ballistic. I sighed in relief and glanced up from my desk. He was staring down at me. I wore a grateful smile. “Thank you,”

“Welcome,” He whispered, leaning down to drop a kiss on my lips.

“Why are you here, Mr Byun?” I asked when he pulled away.

His brow furrowed. “Do you not know what day it is?”

My eyes flew to the desk calendar, then I glanced up at him again. “Sunday?” I said hesitantly. Baekhyun frowned at me and I started to get anxious. “Did I forget something?”

Baekhyun sighed. “You are really unbelievable,” He mumbled, setting down the pencil before pushing himself off the desk. He clasped my hand and tugged me up to my feet. “I have a surprise for you,” he said as he walked me out of my bedroom.

He led me down the short hallway and as I stepped out into the open plan living room, my eyes widened. There were a combination of white and pink balloons floating on the ceiling, and rose petals scattered on the floor around the couch. Realization dawned when I saw cake on the coffee table along with other props and gift boxes. I was starry-eyed as he walked me there. I finally glanced at him, my eyes blinking in disbelief. “You did this? for me?”

He wears a smile. “Happy Birthday,”

My eyes flew to the grandfather clock. It was half past twelve. The fact that he remembered my birthday was shocking enough, he even came all the way here at midnight to surprise me. “I…” I didn’t know what to say. Thank you didn’t seem enough.

“Have I stolen your ability to speak, sweetheart?” He teased, one side of his lips curling up. I linked my arm around his and hummed. He chuckled at my sudden clinginess. “How could you forget your own birthday?” He questioned as we both lowered ourselves to the couch.

“I haven’t celebrated in a long time…” I replied, a tremble in my voice. My eyes were getting glassy and I had to keep them open so the tears wouldn’t fall. “Thank you for remembering, Mr Byun,”

“I was going to surprise you at twelve o’clock sharp–“ Baekhyun bent over to light up the candles and I used the opportunity to wipe the tears away. “–but I fell asleep. I hope I’m still the first to wish you?” He asked.

That explained the pajamas. And the hair. My heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. I shifted closer and slid my arms around his waist, giving him a side hug. “You are the first,” And the only one.

Baekhyun straightened his back once he was done and I unwrapped my arms around him. He held the cake towards me. “Make a wi–,” his speech halted as I blew the candles out. He raised his brows. “No wishes?”

I shook my head. “I have everything I need,”

Baekhyun regarded me for a while, seemingly confused, but he didn’t make any comment and placed the cake on the table.

I stared up at the balloons on the ceiling. They were so pretty. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done to me,” I said, looking back at him, a smile on my lips. “I appreciate it, Mr Byun,”

“To tell the truth, it’s my first time doing something like this,”

“Oh?” my head tilted in question. “What about your subs, or your ex-girlfriends?”

“I wrote them a cheque as a gift and they loved it,” he said. “But you don’t seem to like money that much, which is still very strange to me,”

“Of course I like money. But only money I earned with my own hard work,” I clarified. “I look for a sugar daddy to help me pay for college, not to live a lavish lifestyle. So...you don’t have to keep spoiling me,”

“Sweetheart, I like how undemanding you are, but buying you gifts isn’t gonna make me poor,” He insisted gently. “Honestly, every time you say no, it makes me wanna do the opposite,”

I gave him a long stare, hoping for some magic to make him listen. But he just shrugged. I sighed, giving up. “It’s gonna be very hard getting you a present because nothing would measure up,” I muttered under my breath.

“Speaking of present,” he said. “I have another surprise for you,” he tugged at my hand. As I followed him, I really wished he didn’t get me something too extravagant. I’ve been keeping count of the money I owed him because I planned to pay him back one day. Counting all the gifts he bought for me, my hair would turn gray by the time I paid off my debt.

“You said you didn’t want me to spend too much on you, so–” He pushed at the sliding door that led to the balcony. At first, I assumed that he had bought me a new plant, but then, I heard a gurgling sound that wasn’t there before, and as I stepped further in, I finally spotted the surprise.

“You got me a fish?” The surprise made my voice sound a little squeaky. Grinning hard, I moved closer to the rectangular fish tank. They were three little gold fishes. I lowered myself into a squat by the tank and Baekhyun crouched on one knee next to me. My finger tapped on the glass lightly and I giggled when they swam towards me, their fins fluttering in the water. I admired them for a while, and when I felt Baekhyun staring at me, I turned to meet his eyes. “This is the best gift so far,”

“You weren’t this happy when I got you that Chanel bag,” he commented. “I’d do this sooner if I knew,”

“Why did you get me a fish though?”

“I thought you might feel lonely when I’m not here,” he told me. “They can be your company,”

Overwhelmed by this thoughtfulness, I let out a groan of frustration. “You need to stop being so perfect, Mr Byun, it makes me wanna kiss you all the time,”

Laughter filled his voice. “And why is that a problem?”

“Because kissing usually leads to sex…and if we keep having sex, my vagina might actually break.”

Baekhyun blew out a huff of laughter, his eyes full of heat with a mix of amusement. ”I wasn‘t thinking about sex at all, but now I am. Thanks to you,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers slid through my hair and he cupped the back of my head. I stopped breathing, my heartbeat accelerating when he leaned in to press his lips on mine. I let my eyelids drop naturally as he kissed me, soft and slow. When he pulled back, we shared the same desire-filled gaze. “We should go inside,” He whispered over my lips, his words an invitation.

I swallowed and smiled, albeit shyly. “We should,” I whispered back.

Baekhyun glanced over at the fish tank for a second, then his eyes reverted to me. “Do you wanna name them first?” He asked. I bobbed my head, and we were silent for a while as we considered their names. “Hm, what about Bubbles?” He suggested.

“Oh that’s nice! Maybe we can call them Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup?” I proposed. “Since our names also start with a B, I think it’s perfect. What do you think, Mr Byun?”

Baekhyun gave me a soft look and smiled. He probably found it funny that I took this so seriously like I was naming my baby. “Alright, sweetheart,” he agreed.

For the next few minutes, Baekhyun taught me how to care for the goldfishes, like how many times I should feed it daily and how often I should change their water.

We returned to the living room and stored the cake in the fridge for tomorrow. None of us was hungry at the moment.

“I think we should tell Miss Fei to cancel today’s lesson since it’s your birthday,” Baekhyun suggested once we entered my bedroom. He shut the door behind us and stared at me for an answer. Remembering something, I put him on hold as I searched for my purse. This room was too big. Baekhyun took a seat on the edge of my bed and watched me. “What are you looking for?”

Finding my purse under the desk, I lowered myself to the ground and picked up an envelope where I kept my money. I was lifting myself up when Baekhyun reminded me to watch my head. Except it was too late and I’d knocked myself against the roof of the desk. I winced out loud, my hand flying up to rub the pain.

Baekhyun sighed out, shaking his head at my clumsiness. “You’re gonna wind up in the hospital at this rate. Can you please...be more careful?” he reprimanded gently. I flashed him a sorry smile and walked over to him. “Are you okay?” He asked and I answered with a small hum. Despite that, he still observed me closely, probably making sure I was telling the truth.

“I’m okay,” I reassured, climbing into bed and dipped my knee on each side of his thighs. He immediately slid a hand around my back as I lowered myself to sit on his lap, preventing me from falling backward to the ground. “I’ve been saving up,” I told him, holding up the envelope in between our chest. “Here’s this month’s lesson fee,”

He dropped his gaze to the envelope, his brows furrowing. “We’re done arguing about this,” he said firmly.

“Please accept it, Baekhyun,” I pleaded. “I think Ms Fei looks down on me because she knows you’re paying for me,”

He considered me for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “How exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

I tried not to read too much into his reaction. Baekhyun was a rational person, he probably needed to hear all the facts before he made a judgement. “For starter, she’s always picking on me over the smallest thing,”

“She’s a teacher, it’s her job to point out your mistakes, but that doesn’t equal hating you, don’t you agree?” He said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“But–“

“Not everyone is going to coddle you, princess. You’ll never improve that way,”

A sudden wave of anger flared in my chest. Baekhyun and I argued before, but I’ve never gotten worked up like this. I guessed because this situation hit home for me. I could take a scolding, name calling or even a beating, but not when someone doubted my integrity. I slid off his lap and stood on my feet. He stood up and tried to reach for my hands, but I backed away. He frowned and studied me. I stared back at him, my eyes cold.  “I’m not a spoiled girl who needs coddling,” I told him boldly. So unlike me. I wasn't usually the assertive one.

Baekhyun must've agreed because he was speechless for a moment. “That’s not what I said,”

“But that’s what you imply,” I argued.

“If you don’t like Miss Fei, we can always find a new tutor for us.” He persuaded me. “I don’t want us to argue on your birthday,”

I didn’t answer to that. I wanted to tell him about the kicking and the pinching, but I doubt he would believe me. I walked to the other side of the bed to stay as far away as possible from him. I got in bed, pulling the comforter over my body and turning to lay on my side. A few seconds later, Baekhyun appeared kneeling on one knee by the bed, his eyes full of concern as he checked on me. Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop it. "I’m not making up stories like you think I am, Mr Byun,” I said, my voice trembled.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of my crying, maybe because it was his first time seeing me like this. “I don’t–“ he stopped and sighed, sounding so exhausted all of a sudden. His face was blurry through the tears, but I could still detect the guilt clouding his expression. “Sweetheart, shh,” he shushed and reached over to dab my tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Fei is an old friend of mine, but I should’ve known better. You’re not someone who complains unless something is really bothering you. Had she done something inappropriate to you?”

“I don’t wanna tell you. You’re not gonna believe me.” my words were snippy despite my state. Miss Fei was Baekhyun’s friend of ten years, and I knew him for merely a month. Of course he would trust her more than me.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now. But is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

I pulled the cover blanket my head, ignoring him. When he didn’t say anything, it proved that he acknowledged his mistake. Because on a normal day, he wouldn’t appreciate this no-manner attitude from me.

Although I couldn’t blame him for doubting me, that didn’t mean I wasn’t hurt. Dark memories flooded my mind, bringing me back to those tough days when I was still living with my stepmother. She had never believed me when I told her that her boyfriend had been making a move on me. Until it was too late. Well, at least Baekhyun didn’t beat me up like they did. And he apologized. I’d forgiven him, but I didn’t want to speak to him yet. I didn’t care that it was my birthday, the day had never been significant to me anyway.

Author's Note:

hi everyone, it's been a very long while. I updated the 2nd chapter last christmas and in the time i was gone, i was constantly feeling very discouraged and demoralized about my writing. I tried writing story after story but im always worried it isn’t good enough. I've never been confident of myself to begin with, and then with the lack of feedback, I feel even worse. I don't know if I can write any new fics, but I really wanna try completing my ongoing fics hehe thank you for reading this story, i hope this chapter is not that bad, I haven't written for so long. Next chapter is gonna be very fluffy and smutty once the two finally made up! :D and if you like my fic, please show some support by commenting, it's what keeps me going and I really appreciate it! Tell me what you think of this! see you again!

[neon-junkie]

you've mentioned before that you smoke *wink wink*, so could we get some hc's on what its like to smoke with some of the gang? nsfw or sfw?

i got u homie ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) gender-neutral reader, mostly sfw. headcanons include: John, Javier, Bill, Micah, Sean, Kieran, and Dutch.

everything is under the cut because of the obvious drug-use warning lol

---

John

John is the kinda person who claims he smokes when in reality, he had one puff at a party, panicked, then stopped smoking and convinced himself he was high all night.

Buys weed socks even though he's barely ever smoked; plays into the stoner trope a lot too. He doesn't know how to 'act' when he's high so he just follows the stereotypes.

If you ask him to smoke with you, he'll be like "Yeah, I know what I'm doing, I'll even roll for you," and then produces the worst joint you've ever seen.

BUT it's smokeable so who are you to judge?

Will probably big himself up, smoke far too much, then pretend like he's alright. Even if you question him on if he's actually alright, he'll just keep denying it and be like "yeah I'm cool."

Has the reaction times of a snail. You'll mention something to him and 10 minutes later he'll carry on the conversation.

John.exe has stopped working.

Will get munchies galore and probably starts asking you about aliens and all that generic shit.

He loves a cuddle, mostly because you won't be able to see his ghost-white face and mock him for being irresponsible with drugs.

If he's not in too-much of a state then he may try and come onto you, which usually means rutting his cock against your ass whilst he spoons you, and then cumming in his pants before he can actually do anything with you...

Javier

Knows how to roll and always offers how to roll; He sometimes gets carried away and tries making cross blunts and all those pretty, smokeable things.

Very laid back, encourages you to smoke whatever amount you're comfortable with, and he'll do the same.

He'll seem completely normal until you ask him to do something basic like play his guitar, and then you'll realise how fried his brain is.

No, he can't play his guitar whilst high... He'll probably pick it up and get ready to play but he can barely strum a note, his brain just shuts down and he'll sit there, zoned out, until you call his name.

He's really hooked on theories about the chupacabra so you'll hear him talk about that myth a lot, along with a handful of other theories and conspiracies.

On the odd occasion that Javier is stable enough to cook, he'll make the best stoner meals out there, mixing things that probably shouldn't work together but do simply because he cooked it.

Gets a bit touchy-feely, like he'll want to play with your hair or the buttons on your shirt, or just have you cuddle up to him whilst you both vibe together.

Don't be surprised if he kisses your temple or cheek often whilst gushing about how much you truly mean to him.

He's really down to fuck if you are.

Bill

Cuddle bug :)

It doesn't matter if you're dating or not, Bill will end up snuggling you and oh god, he's the best cuddler you'll ever meet.

He's quite laid back when he smokes, but when he first started he'd get impatient on the short amount of time it takes to kick in, so he'd smoke even more and end up in a weed coma.

He doesn't want to do anything, just cuddle you and share some snacks, and he'll even feed you without asking.

If you're after someone snuggly and lazy to smoke with then Bill is your guy; all you'll do is cuddle, eat, and sleep.

He'll chat with you a bit but nothing too deep. Bill just wants to relax and vibe, no brain power needed.

You are going to have the BEST weed nap with him too, you'll feel like a whole new person once you wake up.

And you may feel something pressed against your bum as Bill spoons you. He'll be more than happy if you help wake him up.

Micah

Oh my god, he boasts that he can smoke ten blunts at once, but he'll get stupidly high off the smallest toke ever.

*has one drag* *voms*

On the rare occasion that Micah manages to get high without dying, he's just a horny bastard. Drugs as a whole have that effect on Micah, he always gets stupidly horny under the influence.

BUT if you choose to sleep with him, he'll start with trying to be kinky, and halfway through he'll just kinda forget that he's meant to be kinky and ends up making love to you instead. So, if you're already dating then this could be quite a tender moment.

So much pillow talk afterwards; he loves to get really cosy, urging you to snuggle up to him, nattering away at whatever you want to talk about.

He's alright at rolling so he'll roll another joint and share it with you in bed.

Will probably fall asleep on you whilst you're chatting away, and you'll wake up the next day to find Micah snuggled up to you. He wants to be cuddled but just doesn't have the confidence to tell you, so his body will make it happen instead.

Sean

You know those videos you see of high people doing really stupid shit when they're high? Yeah, that's Sean.

He looks high as well, gets really bad redeye, and gets gigglier than usual.

Very touchy-feely, in either a romantic or platonic way.

He wants to be cuddled, you need to be the big spoon and he'll sob if you aren't. But on the rare occasion, he'll just want you to snuggle up to him by the campfire, your head resting in the curve of his neck as he giggles with you.

If anyone else is around then Sean will perk up. He suddenly has 100 stories to tell at once and oh boy, if you thought his story-telling was bad whilst drunk or sober, just you wait until he tries telling a story whilst high.

He's actually really considerate to the other camp members; not smoking close to them, not being a nuisance, hushing you and himself to try and keep the noise down.

Munchies galore as well. Sean will prep before getting high, heading into town to buy allllll the unhealthy snacks so he can pig-out with you.

Please just offer to suck his dick, mid-convo. He'll go "ah, you took the words right out of my mouth!" and then turn into putty to your touches. He gets very sensitive.

Kieran

This boy is either the calmest being in the world, or gets really paranoid and almost whiteys.

Kieran has to be in a really calm setting with someone he fully trusts, meaning you. He can't smoke in camp, he'll get super skittish, worried that Bill will appear out of nowhere and finally snip his balls off.

He's relaxed for once, lying back on the bed and asking you to join him.

He's the type to talk about cliché things like "do you believe aliens are real?" and "I think I saw a ghost the other day but I ain't too sure..."

The conversation will then trail into deeper things, like both of your backstories and how you ended up here. Kierans sympathetic whilst sober but he looks like he's about to cry for you whilst he's high.

And he probably will. His emotions are heightened whilst he's in this state so don't be surprised if you over-hear him sobbing.

Will cuddle you without even thinking about it and then jump off you, apologising over and over for crossing a boundary. Just give him a cuddle and he'll relax again, maybe a kiss on the temple if he still seems a little shaken up.

Dutch

Probably the worst person to get high with. Ever.

Suuuuuper skittish, especially if you smoke with him from chapter 3 onwards.

Will ask you 100 questions at once about 100 topics at once. He needs to cover EVERYTHING, especially current life events and what the future holds.

If you notice him snacking then don't mention it, not unless you want Dutch to start sobbing whilst stuffing his face, telling you that "I can eat what I want! I'm a healthy weight, a little treat isn't going to hurt me, is it?"

But after an hour or two he'll mellow out, finally relaxing and realising how heavy his eyes feel.

I hope you weren't planning on sleeping in your own bed tonight because Dutch is going to fall asleep on you before you can even consider getting up and going to bed.

[theyanderespecialist]

Two Husbands 1 (One Shot) Negan X OC Marie X Axel

[Hello! My Sexy Readers, I am here once more with My co author and we are doing another walking dead Request off of wattpad by BABIBENJI This one is is of Axel (The white prisoner that was locked in the cafeteria in the prison arc) X Marie OC X Negan

Axel and Marie actually are dating and he lived in this! Anyways please enjoy this chapter here Everyone!]

(No One's POV)

It had been a few weeks since Axel had left the prison, and a good friend of his from Rick's group. She smiled at him. He wasn't the smartest man, but he was well meaning.

However..he also was not exactly the most violent, and put a lot a lot of faith in other people doing the same despite being in prison with violent criminals.

So when Marie saw a group as she was weary. "Axel.. there are people coming.."

"they are probably just scavenging too."

Well now there were held at gun point kneeling on the ground as Marie glared at Axel.

Axel was looking down he knew he messed up again and he knew that he was going pay for this one. Just not in the way he thinks.

"Well, well isin't that one sexy little thing." A man says. "I could have her sit on my face all day!"

"SHUT UP!" Axel says a burst of Jealousy. "That is my girlfriend your talking about..."

(I mean...this is better than dealing with a pissed off marie)

(XD True dat XD)

Marie looked at him, an expression that he knew to tell him to shut the fuck up.

However what was said was said..and the man turned to Axel

Then turned to Marie, then Axel, and Marie and finally Axel. "How did you get a babe like that!?" He asks honestly baffled.

"uh--"

"Oh come on!" He looks at Axel as he gave a smirk. "You can tell me, actually." He turned to Marie. "Let me guess, he's got a great personality. No wait- he makes you laugh."

(I mean..it's true)

She nodded. "Well yeah." She says "but that doesn't mean anything, I love him--its none of your business anyway you fucking boomer."

"I am not that old!" He says. "Well if your little boy toy was gone you be free to be mine so Bye bye boy toy."

He lifts his bat to bash in the skull but Marie tackled Axel out of the way.

(that's true, he's a gen xer)

She used herself to create a shield as one of negan's men held him back and pointed out this little fact to him.

"Well well My little clingy girl, looks like we are in deal making mode." He says

"deal making? You tried to kill my fucking boyfriend!"she yelled as he just smiled.

"Holy hell..." Axel muttered in shock

"Well I can still kill your boyufriend." He says

"no!" She yelled as she was clearly getting distressed as her anger was turning into fear. She never had to deal with this before.

"See Darling I want you to be my Golden wife, the one I have a family with but if keeping this limp noodle alive as your second husband is what is takes then I am willing to play ball." Negan says.

"....Golden wife? Are you..implying you have one already- more than one? Because I dated a Mormon once, and I vowed I'd never date a man who can't be loyal to me."

(but she cool with having a second husband xD)

(XD Yup)

"As my Golden Wife I will be loyal to you and only if you want me to divorce my other wives I will." He says.

He was desperate for her and she was worth it.

"and If I say no?" "Then I kill your Boy toy and take.you anyway." He said as Marie and Axel share a look.

"....fine.." she said softly as he gave a smirk.

(Later that night, Negan's pov, at his community.)

I glare at Axel as I passed by, heading into my home, passing by my other wives as they were drinking and talking. God they never do shut up.

I walked into my room seeing Marie already under the covered trying to fall asleep as I place Lucille down and crawl into bed only for her to turn and glare at me.

"You touch me, I'll fucking take that bat and shove it down your goddamn throat. It's bad enough I have to share a bed with you."

"Oh come on, your my blushing Bride!" I say. "I just want to hold ya."

(Mmmmmhmmmmm I smell bullshit XD)

(Dude you do not wanna play with a pissed marie)

(Amen!)

She turned around. "First off, not your fucking bride. There was no ceremony, no papers, no rings, not even a fucking piece of bread as a substitute to cake. Second off you threatened my actual significant other, and third off, you fucking touch me, and the next time I get my period, I'll shove my pad into your mouth."

(oh my god Holy fuck)

(Dammmnnnn)

I throw myself on back this suck so much! When I got her I was expecting some bed breaking fun, not ball busting bullshit.

(hey now likely hood she's gonna cuddle up to you is high She's been sleeping on the cold hard ground for weeks)

(XD yup)

I sigh and close my eyes falling asleep only to wake up to someone touching me my eyes snap open and Marie is cuddling into me

(this is the start of a....really unhealthy relationship..s)

(Yes it is)

She was asleep still but her arm was draped around me as moved closer to me. She then threw a leg over me and wrapped it around me.

(I legit do this XD)

I stop as I looked down at our legs--was she not wearing pants?

(A valid question)

(XD Get it get it good~ XD)

She then sat up and stripped her top and now was naked. She then laid down right ontop of me and I was rock hard. God fucking damnit. What kind of cruel test is this? I do strip ony half sleeping state

(XD I do too XD)

I looked at her and she buries her face in my neck

God...please let me get through the night..

(Next day.)

Well..this went about as well as I expected as she hit me with pillow after pillow.

"I can't believe you just let that happen!"

"I didn't even see much of anything!" I really didn't.

She threw another pillow at me. Why did I have eleven decorative pillows?

"Ugh! You you MAN THING!" She snouts.

(Lady D XD JK)

She pushed me out of my own room as I glared but take a breath. This is just a rocky start, but the honeymoon phase will kick in eventually..

(Time skip)

"Where the hell is Axel?.huh? Do any of you dumbasses know where he is?" I ask as no one seemed to know as I walk out past the trucks when I hear a noise, giggling coming from inside of the trunks

I walk over only to see him on top of someone, however the only person not in attendance to the daily meeting..was him and Marie. I immediately race over seeing Marie under him, her shirt pushed up. Oh hell no this was not going to happen until I was with her first!

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS first part done I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy!]

[kingreywrites]

With a little luck

@runningracingdancingchasing​

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 2308

16. “I’m trying to cheer you up.” (prompt list)

Summary: Flynn Rider didn't have bad days. He was always charming, always confident, and never ever worried about any kind of consequences. At worst, Flynn disappeared for one or two days, but no one could actually attest of any bad days being had. It was a question of reputation, and all that. Eugene wasn't so lucky, in that regard - oh, he was still charming, still confident, quite funny and dashing if you asked him but he cared.

Note: Thank you for the prompt!! I had trouble settling on one story for it but I hope you like this! Btw, this is set pre-series but post-movie, because I’ve been thinking a lot about Eugene and Rapunzel’s early relationship since i read here in this light by Hannamoon, so I can only recommand people check out this incredible fic!!

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Flynn Rider didn't have bad days. He was always charming, always confident, and never ever worried about any kind of consequences. At worst, Flynn disappeared for one or two days, but no one could actually attest of any bad days being had. It was a question of reputation, and all that. Eugene wasn't so lucky, in that regard - oh, he was still charming, still confident, quite funny and dashing if you asked him but he cared. A lot more than he let on to most people, but Eugene cared, it was in his nature, and Flynn had only tried to bury it. And, as such, Eugene had bad days, and he couldn't even hide out until it passed. Thankfully, along with being Eugene again, he had found a family - and he had found Rapunzel. Eugene's bad days were always better than Flynn's good days when she was here.

Didn't mean he had to like them, though.

It had started easily enough. He was bantering with Cassandra, as they always did - he had even started it himself, so really, he shouldn't be complaining - when she said something. A little jab, in the middle of so many others, nearly nothing really.

"Keep going like this and you'll end up all alone, Fitzherbert."

It had struck a nerve. Eugene had faltered, for barely a second, then had kept going as if everything was fine - and it was, really! But he couldn't get this sentence out of his head afterwards. It was silly, and he knew it - Cassandra had said worse. Come on, he had said worse to her, that was nothing!

But it wasn't.

He had talked more at lunch, because he was nervous and nervous Eugene babbled, and he saw clearly the annoyed glances that Frederic threw his way. Even Arianna, as serene as she always appeared, advised him once or twice to take a little more food, the closest she ever got to outright telling someone to shut up. The problem laid with the fact that Eugene was very good at talking with his mouth full, which garnered another scowl from Frederic, but a giggle from Rapunzel, so he kinda won anyway.

Ending up alone. As a kid, it never made sense to him how that could be a shared fear for orphans - they were already alone, weren't they? He wasn't scared of that at all, he would proudly claim to whoever was willing to listen (mostly Lance), because he never had anyone to begin with and that meant he didn't need anyone. (Except you, Lance, he would add back then.) And all his life, he had tried to prove it, had tried to show that he could do anything he wanted to without help, had dreamt of ending up alone and rich, far away from everyone on an island of his own. He had left the orphanage behind, had left Stalyan behind, had left Lance behind, because he was Flynn Rider and he- he-

Flynn Rider didn't get lonely. (But Eugene did. Eugene was vulnerable and he had hated it, hated the emotions he couldn't stop from flooding him, and his only solution had been to stifle them until he could pretend they didn't exist at all.)

After lunch, Eugene had fled the table in a haste, muttering an excuse he didn't even remember now. He knew Rapunzel still had a lot of activities scheduled, being a Princess and all, and that he had nothing else to do but mope. It was weird, to be so inactive now. As a thief, every day had been a new challenge - he had to keep moving, to keep stealing if he wanted enough money to live. Being able to stay idle was both a blessing, and an incredibly strange feeling at times. It gave him more time to mull over his feelings, in any case. More time to really live through his bad days, without any alcohol to distract himself with, for sure.

Cassandra's remark shouldn't have hurt like it did, because it was illogical. He knew he wouldn't end up alone now - Rapunzel loved him, just as much as he loved her, and- and they were each other's dream and he knew it.

He knew it.

It was simply hard to remember sometimes, because feelings didn't care about logic. He… Had experience in being abandoned, but he had thought that he was done with this feeling at 12, when he decided that he didn't want to be adopted anymore. Eugene was terrified that everything he had gained these last months, everything he had built back for himself once he let go of his life as a thief, would end up disappearing in seconds. All his life, having something meant being prepared to inevitably lose it, but he didn't want to lose this - he didn't want to lose Rapunzel.

He knew who he was when he was all alone, and he didn't want to be that person anymore.

He nearly went to hide out in the library, but he heard voices inside and he was not in the mood to speak to anyone. Especially not to another fancy person that would look at him as if he was nothing but a thief - he knew his presence in the castle wasn't accepted by everyone, but he hated being judged that way. He hated how it reminded him of the way adults would look at him when he was an orphan, hated the pity and the disgust that came with those stares, hated… hated that, at best, he was only Rapunzel's saviour, but not anyone worthy of their time for anything else.

Nowadays, Eugene knew the castle's layout by heart, always quick to remember a place just in case he needed to flee it - and stealing the crown had certainly taken a lot of preparations on its own, so really, it had no mysteries left for him. Especially one perfect, always empty and quiet spot: the roof. It didn't take long for him to go sit on his recently self-designated hideout, all of Corona seemingly under his feet. The fresh air and the silence were a welcome distraction from his thoughts, and a welcome distraction for his over dramatic reaction too - he had spent the last decades avoiding to wallow into his 'sad orphan backstory', and he had no reason to stop now.

Well. Rapunzel would want him to be honest with her about what he was feeling. But this was stupid, and she was busy with all the Princess' activities her dad had been pilling up on her recently, because of her upcoming coronation. There was no need to bother her with it, and she would totally understand that he didn't tell her - right?

Right. He could totally get over it by himself.

Keep going like this and you'll end up all alone, Fitzherbert.

"Thank you Cassandra," Eugene grumbled, kicking his feet in the empty space beneath them, "couldn't you have just insulted my nose or something?"

He would have gasped and defended himself, but at least it wouldn't have put his insecurities at the forefront of his mind. He was doing a good job of ignoring them before, thank you very much. Sighing, Eugene realised he couldn't even manage his fake-anger at her, because he was… tired. Tired of his bad day, already, even if it was barely one, tired of being scared, and tired of dwelling on something that he considered to be ridiculous. He wished he could convince himself that this new life was permanent, that Rapunzel would always love him, but it was hard. Dangling his legs, he decided to count all the houses he could see in front of him, until he was bored enough to go back inside.

He was halfway through a second round in Italian, to spice things up, when a noise on his right startled him.

"Hey," Rapunzel said, her brown hair glowing in the setting sun. He hadn't expected her to find him here, but some part of him wasn't surprised that she did anyway - because of course she would. Her hands were behind her back, and she quickly skipped over to him, always graceful.

"Sunshine," he smiled because he couldn't not, no matter his mood. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, the man I love disappeared on me, after spending lunch looking absolutely miserable," she answered gently as she sat next to him, handing him a cupcake that she had been hiding. "Of course I wanted to find you."

Eugene took the cupcake in both hands, and hoped that the blush he could feel creeping on his cheeks wasn't too noticeable, but something told him he wasn't so lucky.

"A cupcake?" he laughed.

"Hey, I'm trying to cheer you up! What better way than a cupcake?" Rapunzel said teasingly - but she also put her hand on his knee, and looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

How he had ever managed the reputation of a tough guy was beyond him, Rapunzel only needed a few words to undo him completely.

"So," she said, once it was obvious that he wasn’t about to say anything else, "do you… Do you want to talk to me?"

He didn't, really. But he took her hand in his and squeezed it, hoping that she would be patient while he gathered himself. Eugene knew how comforting people was sometimes stressful on Rapunzel. At the very beginning of their relationship, he had quickly understood that her only experience with it was trying to please Gothel after an argument, which involved a lot of gifts and apologies. They had discussed it together, trying to separate what was unhealthy from what Rapunzel actually enjoyed doing - for example, gifts were one thing that she didn't want to give up on, but she was glad that it wasn't mandatory to the process. She was still anxious, though, that what she was doing was wrong, or at least not enough, and while she wouldn't ask for him to comfort her when she was trying to comfort him, he still tried to be mindful of her fears.

"I…" he tried, before cutting himself off. How could he begin to explain all the contradictory thoughts in his mind? Start from the essential. "I love you."

"I love you too, Eugene," Rapunzel answered easily, her skin warm against his.

She was close enough that he could count every freckle on her skin, even the most hidden one, sitting right under her eye, beneath her lashes. Faced with the prettiest view of Corona one could find, Eugene only had eyes for her. He loved her. And he was terrified, at the same time.

You'll end up all alone, Fitzherbert.

"Sometimes I'm scared that I'm gonna lose everything," Eugene blurted out, before cringing. "I mean, I know that you love me, of course I do but- I-"

"It feels too good to be true, somedays," Rapunzel finished softly. She lowered her eyes, and put her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," he breathed, putting his arm around her shoulders. "A castle I could understand, but getting to be loved by the most wonderful woman in all the seven Kingdoms?"

"And getting to be loved by the most incredible man in all the seven Kingdoms?" Rapunzel echoed with a chuckle. "Impossible."

"Ludicrous."

"Oh good word."

There was a beat, and then they were both laughing, and holding onto each other.

"I love you," Rapunzel whispered again after a while, "and I know that being scared doesn't always make sense, but I promise that I'll never leave you."

Eugene's throat felt too tight after this declaration. It… It meant a lot more than he thought it would, because as much as he loathed admitting it, he was terrified of losing everything. As a kid, ending up with nothing had seemed inevitable; but he didn't want that, he didn't want to accept this future, he- he wanted to be happy. And he couldn't believe he got that chance with Rapunzel.

"I promise I won't leave you either," he answered, because he wasn't sure how to even voice the gratitude gripping him. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Same goes for you." Rapunzel shifted, so she could take his hands in hers, and look straight at him again. "You don't have to hide from me when you're upset, I… I always want to be there for you. And as you can see," she smirked, gesturing to their predicament, "I'm not afraid to follow you in the weirdest places if I need to!"

Eugene laughed. "How did you even find me here?"

"I've got my secrets," she said playfully, "and they may involve remembering that one conversation where you talked about how we should hang out on the roof so my maids couldn't find me." Her brilliant smile made him fall in love all over again.

It also made him remember the cupcake that he had put aside. The frosting had melted a little, and he didn't look as good as earlier, but the sentiment it carried was still the same. Most of the time, he was the one bringing Rapunzel's cupcakes, but they meant as much to him as they did to her. It was one of the first things he bought after being a thief most of his life - one of the first things he bought for her. This cupcake was proof that he wasn’t the same man, that he was neither sad orphan Eugene Fitzherbert nor careless thief Flynn Rider.

He was just Eugene, and he had found a family now - he had found Rapunzel. And having bad days wasn’t so bad, when they ended with sharing a cupcake with his new dream, alone on one of the roofs overlooking the entire Kingdom of Corona, his new home.

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part four

summary: carmen actually steps foot inside her own house after discovering her daughter isn’t the only teenager living there. the hurricane hurtling toward the island matches the tempest in sailor’s heart as she finally gets some long-overdue words off her chest that her mom isn’t very happy to hear and two friends inch closer and closer to crossing that metaphorical line.

word count: 6.6k+ (oops, i did it again 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect, gambling addiction, child abandonment, being kicked out of home, fluff, swearing, underage drinking, flirting, having shitty dads, mentions of weed, star wars, and sailor’s unhealthy addiction to nutella, mention and direct quote of the percy jackson and the olympians series (again), subtle nod to new girl (i love seeing how many references i can make lmao)

a/n: first off, i just want to thank each and every one of you for your likes, reblogs, and especially your wonderful comments! they mean to world to me, seriously ❤ now, here comes the dramaaaaa! we get to dive into sailor’s complicated, turbulent relationship with her mother (sailor, like john b, has a very big, very real fear of being abandoned by people she loves because of her dad) before heading toward the canon timeline of the show. the quote about the sea near the beginning is from jaques cousteau, legendary french naval officer, marine explorer and filmmaker who co-created the aqua-lung and paved the way for modern scuba diving. he also pioneered marine conservation and discovered the wreck of the hmhs britannic, sister ship of the rms titanic! so overall, he was a pretty cool dude and i feel that he’d be a personal hero to ocean-loving sailor (maybe even kiara as well, considering her love of the environment/conservation).

unbetaed as usual so all mistakes are my b.

gif credit to @toesure (who has the most beautiful gifs, ngl)

~Masterlist~

part four: high tide

The sun’s just peeking its rays over the horizon, painting the deep blue sky the softest shades of pink and orange. Calm, steady waves lap against the shore and over Sailor’s bare feet as she stands alone on an empty and desolate beach, the only signs of life coming from the seagulls squawking overhead. The air is thick and sticky with early morning humidity, the type that makes it hard to breathe and frizzes the hell out of her wavy hair, and she can already feel moisture starting to collect on her skin.

Why’s she here again? She can’t remember a reason and come to think of it, she can’t remember exactly how she got here, either. Did she drive? She turns her back to the ocean and its entrancing pull to look for her truck but finds the surf shop is the only thing she can see clearly, the world surrounding it blurred in an incomprehensible mess of color; the sight should’ve caused anxiety to take root in her chest but somehow she finds herself unbothered, relaxed. Somehow, she feels at home.

“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

Sailor’s head snaps to the left at the sound of a painfully familiar voice. A tall, redheaded man now stands in what was only a few seconds ago an empty space, smiling out over the water with the brilliant colors of the sky reflecting in his green eyes.

“Dad?”

Ryan doesn’t seem to hear the incredulous tone in her voice or even the fact that she spoke at all as he turns to face her and asks a question of his own, “It’s true, don’t you think?”

Of course she does. The sea has had her under its captivating, magnetic spell ever since she first laid eyes on it when she was a toddler, a baby, even. Her parents always said she wanted to spend every waking moment at the beach, combing the sand for shells and staring out at the water, imagining what new discoveries were waiting for her in its depths. Her mouth moves on it’s own as she replies, “You know I do.”

It’s not what she wants to say at all. She wants so badly to yell at him, let out her frustrations and hurt and pain ‘how dare you leave us’ ‘what did I do wrong’ ‘why haven’t you come back yet’ but finds that she can’t form the words. It’s like she’s watching a video, or maybe reliving a memory -oh. It feels like a memory because it is one, she recognizes with a start, of the week before he took off and abandoned them for the very first time, leaving behind a gaping, bleeding wound that neither Sailor nor her mother ever managed to properly stitch back together.

Ryan’s smile widens. “Always got your eyes on the horizon, Starfish. Just like your old man.”

Her heart clenches at the old, familiar nickname that she hasn’t heard in years, like she’s looking at a favorite pair of childhood shoes or an old t-shirt from a family vacation long past and realizing she doesn’t fit in them anymore, that she’s moved on, and surprisingly, it doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would.

“Come on,” Her father says and when he reaches out to her, Sailor finds herself reaching back with a much smaller, eight-year old sized hand that’s swallowed by Ryan’s larger, calloused palm. “Think you can go fifteen feet today?”

“Fifteen? I’m gonna go twenty!” She declares confidently in her most grown-up voice, giggling when her dad beams and hoists her little body up into his arms, the stubble on his face tickling her skin as he plants a kiss on her cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

He runs into the surf, tossing a laughing Sailor into the ocean when it’s waist deep before they wade out, further and further until the sandy floor drops away from their feet and they’re left treading water.

“Ready, Starfish?”

“Ready!”

The sun breaks over the horizon and casts its golden light on the pair, turning their hair an identical shade of fiery red just as they dive below. She has to work harder to keep up with her father’s longer strokes but she does it and reaches the bottom the same time he does; he smiles widely and reaches out to quickly cup her cheek, pride shining clearly in his eyes and she beams back before turning away to scan the floor for any worthy shells. Finding a knobbed whelk a few feet away, she swims over to grab it before pushing off toward the surface, Ryan following close behind. The sun becomes brighter and brighter the closer she gets and just when her head breaks through the waves-

Sailor wakes.

The early morning sun shines across her eyes through the curtains as she stares up at the surfboard above her bed, the very shelf were the whelk from that day still sits, proudly displayed with her other finds. Yawning, she runs her hands over her face and blinks away the last threads of sleep still clinging to her lashes, along with the memory of her dream. Moments like that with her father were rare. Ryan was a blast to be around when he was happy doing something he wanted to do, like diving for shells, hitting up the bowling alley for a few games, or taking his old, beat up boat out into the marsh to fish for hours on end (never something mundane as doing the dishes or folding the laundry, no, those were children’s jobs and being an only kid, those responsibilities fell to Sailor.). Moments like that were when she felt that -naively, foolishly- her dad was actually proud of her, that he wasn’t horribly inconvenienced by her having the audacity to be his daughter, to be born, that maybe he loved her as much as she loved him.

Cold from a sudden shiver that runs through her body, she rolls onto her side to seek out the best human space heater she knows but her arm only finds empty sheets lacking warmth, her hand reaching for someone who’s no longer there. She frowns and sits up, fingers automatically running through her sleep mussed waves in a semi-futile attempt to fix them into something less resembling a bird’s nest. A quick check of the phone she doesn’t remember plugging in to charge reveals its just before 7 in the morning and her confusion over her missing bedmate only grows; JJ’s rarely ever conscious before 9 AM at the absolute earliest and almost never by his own volition unless surfing’s involved. Even Binx is gone from his usual spot at the end of the bed, leaving her truly alone in the tiny room.

On the floor alongside his boots, the backpack she never noticed him having yesterday is still where he dropped it with its zipper open wide, while his phone rests next to hers on the bedside table and Sailor feels an almost embarrassing wave of relief wash over her knowing he’s still here, that he didn’t just up and disappear in the middle of the night, that he stayed (of all the times he’s come to her before, only once did he leave before dawn and, after she’d frantically tracked him down at John B’s place, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face at the thought of him returning to the lion’s den that he called home, he held her close and promised to never do it again.). She pulls herself out of bed and crosses the room to pull on a random hoodie from the closet before pocketing her phone and padding into the hall, the wooden floor cool under her bare feet.

A demanding meow comes from the kitchen followed immediately by a vexed, “Binx, my dude. For the last time, you can’t have this.” JJ’s bright laugh echoes throughout the room when Binx meows again, this one more insistent than the last and the redhead smiles, quietly shuffling forward to lean against the wall. He doesn’t notice, instead holding a finger to his lips as he shushes the cat sitting on the counter beside him, then turns back to whatever he’s doing. “Be quiet, dumbass! You don’t wanna wake your mom up, do you?”

“I don’t know, sounds to me like he might need my help.”

He startles at her teasing voice, nearly dropping the butter knife in his hand as she steps forward and scoops Binx into her arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Is mean old J not feeding you, Binxy? That just won’t do!”

He rolls his eyes but the grin tugging the corners of his mouth upward betrays his amusement as he says sarcastically, “Yeah, I’m the bad guy for not giving the brat Nutella. Great.”

With a laugh, Sailor gives the cat another loving scratch behind the ears before gently setting him on the floor and hoisting herself onto the counter beside JJ, her legs swinging back and forth and lightly brushing against his side. “So...you’re up early.” She says, watching him scrape the last bit of Nutella out of the jar and smear it on some toast, another piece already made on the plate at his elbow.

“Yeah, I woke up and couldn’t go back to bed.” He shrugs, tossing the knife in the sink and the empty container into the trash; her stomach does a little flip when he brings his hand to his mouth and licks away the chocolate left behind on his thumb, then continues, “Sorry if I woke you up. I tried to be quiet but that shithead over there wouldn’t shut up.”

He nods his chin in the direction of a lounging Binx, stretched out on the back of the couch in the sun and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. I-” She shrugs, too, and meets his blue-eyed gaze. “I guess I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“Bad dream?” JJ asks, holding the plate of toast out to her and she takes a piece with a grateful smile as she replies, “I’d call it more of a bittersweet memory.”

They both fall into a comfortable silence while they eat until he suddenly asks another question around a mouthful of breakfast, “About your dad?”

Sailor freezes mid-chew, her father’s green eyes flicking away from her best friend’s face toward the floor as she swallows thickly, her free hand anxiously clenching the fabric of her shorts. After a long, pregnant pause in which they finish their food and he puts the dirty plate in the sink, she finally says softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

She apologizes again, staring down at the floor and swinging her legs back and forth, her bare feet hitting the cabinet with dull thuds.

“For what?” His brow furrows in confusion while he takes a step forward to stand between her legs, one hand reaching to hook a finger under her chin and lift her head so he can look her in the eye, the other resting on her knee. “Seriously, help me out here ‘cause I’m confused as fuck.”

“Because I feel guilty, okay?” She starts, eyelids briefly closing as she takes a deep breath before snapping open again and continuing before he can interrupt, “Here I am, getting upset over a stupid dream I had about my gambling addict dad that ditched me when your dad does that,” -she points to his bruised ribs- “and this,” -her palm rests on his cheek, thumb skimming over his scabbed lip- “and God, I just-”

“Whoa, hold up there, Sail.” JJ cuts her off, his free hand joining the other in cupping her face, “Just because your dad never hit you doesn’t mean you don’t have something to be pissed about. He abandoned you, stole your mom’s money, and made you feel like shit! You have a right to be mad as fuck about it.”

“But-”

“But nothing! We’re not having a fucking competition about who has the shittiest dad,” -He smirks devilishly, brushing a wayward red curl off her forehead- “because they both suck major dick. End of story.”

In spite of herself, Sailor snickers as she winds her arms around his neck and pulls him close, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder while his own arms slide around her waist. “We should start a club.” She jokes lightly and feels his snort of laughter against her ear in response.

“‘Shitty Dad Society,’” He declares proudly, “I call being president.”

“Well, I’m your VP! Binx’s our secretary- shit, I’ll be treasurer, too ‘cause I don’t trust you with any type of financial situation at all.”

He laughs again, hand tightening its grip on her waist and she smiles into his neck as he says, “That’s fair. We should make shirts.”

They settle into another comfortable silence after that, both more than happy to relax in the other’s arms and just be. It’s one of her favorite things about..whatever they are, the ease, the contentment, the familiarity felt when they’re together are sentiments she never, ever wants to lose and a thought, an exciting, dangerous thought pops into her head: what if he never has to leave?

“Come live with me.”

“...what?”

Oh, fuck, she just said that out loud, didn’t she? Brain, enter panic mode. The redhead abruptly pulls out of his embrace and buries her already blushing face into shaking hands, closing her eyes tight for good measure, stammering between her fingers, “Nothing, nothing! I said nothing!”

“Pretty sure you said something,” His hands encircle her wrists and gently pull them down to her lap. “And it wasn’t ‘nothing.’”

She stares down at their entwined fingers resting on her thighs, the backs of his hands deliriously warm against her exposed skin and grounding her to this (scary, exciting, vulnerable) moment, and blurts out in a rush, “I said, come live here. With me.”

JJ doesn’t speak, but the way his hands almost imperceptibly tighten their hold on hers -she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t already been looking- compels her to raise her head and meet his eyes; the indescribable depth of the ocean is behind his gaze, as well as the barest hint of pure, brazen hope, and it says everything his mouth won’t.

“Remember yesterday, when you said you don’t know how much more you can take?” She asks. At his tight nod, she weaves her fingers even more intricately with his and admits softly, “Well, I’m not sure how much more I can take, either.”

Sailor’s eyes sweep over the cuts on his face with all the gentleness of a lover, his lip first, followed by the one on his cheekbone before meeting his again. “I can’t...I can’t see you hurt like this anymore.”

Blue stares into green for an insurmountable stretch of time, long enough that she starts to think that she should’ve just kept her big mouth shut, until he finally whispers, “Seriously?”

“J, I’ve never been more serious about something in my entire life. I can’t let him do this to you anymore.” She finishes with a shrug, “My mom’s never here, anyway. It’d be, uh, really nice to not be alone all the time ‘cause as much as I love him, Binx doesn’t count.”

His eyes become stormy at that casual admission of loneliness for just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment before brightening into their natural blue, the same color of the sky on a clear day as he says simply, “Okay.”

“Seriously?” It’s her turn to ask it now and the smile that breaks over her face when he nods is one of unabashed relief; without thinking, she leans closer and presses her forehead to his. “Good.”

He smiles, too, and briefly lets his eyes fall shut at the contact as he jokes, “Just so you know, Flynn, I’m probably not gonna be the best roommate.”

“Please,” She giggles, freeing one of her hands to playfully push at his shoulder, “I live with the most spoiled, demanding cat in the world. I think I can handle you, Maybank.”

The teasing smirk on his face makes her heart beat a little faster. “We’ll see about that.”

Sailor decides to pretend she didn’t hear his loaded comment (she’s not quite ready to open up that particular can of worms just yet), instead pulling her phone from her hoodie pocket to check the time. “Alright, here’s the deal: in one,” -she glances at the time again because holy shit does she have the short-term memory of a fucking chimp- “two hours, we’re going shopping and, hey, don’t give me that look!” She laughs at the pained expression that crosses his face, “If you’re gonna live here, get ready to put in the work.”

JJ offers her a lazy salute with his free hand and she rolls her eyes, trying her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he says coyly (again, damn him!), “Yes, ma’am.”

“Until then, though,” The redhead continues, hopping off the counter to grab his hand and starts pulling him toward the hall to her room, “We have a book to read and you have some Greek to mispronounce.”

“Fuck, you’re bossy.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

-

It goes like this: for nearly three weeks, life for the pair is pretty damn good. The summer days pass the same as they had been, either spent lazing around with the rest of the pogues or working their variety of jobs -Sailor at the ice cream parlor, along with her weekly shell dives and the beginner surf classes she teaches for The Sandbar, JJ at the country club and doing whatever odd jobs he can find around the island- as June slowly bleeds into July. They find themselves doing everything together: shopping, cooking dinner, sharing her tiny room, and it’s so painfully domestic, so natural and so right that it hurts to wrap her head around it.

If their friends notice, none of them comment on it, even though she sees the looks sent their way whenever they both hop out of Sailor’s truck together (most are curtesy of eagle-eyed Kiara, but Pope and even the ever oblivious John B raise their eyebrows a few times). At night they continue to read through the Percy Jackson series, taking turns reading aloud each evening and for a short, blissful time, they let go of the burdens weighing heavy on their shoulders. For a while, everything is close to perfect.

Typically, predictably, it doesn’t last and when shit finally hits the fan, it happens in epic fashion because nothing is ever easy when they’re involved.

It happens a few days after the Fourth of July. It’s late-afternoon, Hurricane Agatha brewing off the coast causing the clouds to streak faster through the sky and, with the rest of their friends working or otherwise occupied, the two teenagers decide to spend a day lounging at home, getting in a few more chapters of The Battle of the Labyrinth and drinking the beer left over from a night of partying at John B’s house.

“’Jumping out a window five hundred feet above ground is not usually my idea of fun,’“ Sailor reads as she relaxes on the couch, book in one hand and can of PBR in the other, the wind blowing in through the open window ruffling her hair, “‘Especially when I’m wearing bronze wings and flapping my arms like a duck.’“

“I’ll drink to that,” JJ says, briefly lifting his head from her lap to chug the rest of his beer before settling back down, feet propped up on the couch’s arm. They’re both a little buzzed, having lost count of how many drinks they’ve downed but she’s had enough to make her start giggling at his comment as she struggles to keep reading while Binx, fed up with the noise, jumps down from his spot behind her and slinks down the hall to find some peace and quiet.

“Damn you, stop it!” She laughs harder as he pulls a ridiculous face at her pronunciation of Daedalus, then shoots her an impish grin and she responds by ‘accidentally’ dropping the paperback on his face. Both are so caught up in hysterics that they don’t notice the sound of a car pulling into the driveway or a key unlocking the front door.

“Sailor!”

The girl freezes at her name, green eyes widening at the sharp tone of her mother’s voice. Slowly, she turns her head to look over her shoulder where she stands, arms crossed, and she’s so shocked Carmen’s actually looking her in the eye that nothing comes out of her open mouth but an oh so eloquent “huh?”

“What the hell is going on here?” The older woman demands, moving around the couch before either teenager can react, and her eyes narrow when she catches sight of JJ’s head on her daughter’s thigh and the empty beer cans on the end table. “Are you two drunk? Get up, now.”

He hastily does as she asks, eyes downcast to the floor and shaking hands clenched at his sides; ignoring her mother’s glare, Sailor deliberately reaches over and rests one palm on top of his as she says tightly, “Nice to see you home for once, I’m surprised you remembered where it is.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it but she can’t find it in her fuzzy, alcohol-numbed brain to care when Carmen reels back like she’s been slapped before she seems to compose herself, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Sailor Giselle, don’t you dare talk to your mother like that!”

The redhead feels something inside her snap and she glares up at the only parent she has left, all but spitting her next words, “Then start acting like my mother! This is the first time I’ve seen you here in four months!”

“I had to come home after Rachel told me you were shacking up with some boy! Do you have any idea-”

“Rachel?!” Sailor explodes at the mention of their obnoxiously invasive old biddy of a neighbor whose sole mission in life is knowing everyone’s business, “God, that hag just can’t keep her nose out of anything can she?”

Carmen crosses her arms once again and glowers at her daughter. “You know how hard it is for me to be in here, Sailor. I asked her to keep an eye on you for me and I’m glad I did.”

The teenager stares at her in disbelief before barking a loud, humorless laugh. “Let me get this straight: you asked our neighbor to spy on me so you didn’t have to come home...so you didn’t have to actually put in some effort?” Carmen opens her mouth to defend herself but before any words can come out, Sailor continues, throwing her free hand in the air, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“This is my house!” Her mother thunders, not noticing the way the silent blond boy flinches at her yell and how her daughter tightens her grip on his hand. “This is my house and I can do whatever I damn well please, including having someone look out for you when I can’t.”

“When you won’t, you mean.” She scoffs, shaking her head in thinly-veiled disgust, “I’m doing just fine on my own, no thanks to you, Mom.”

“Does ‘doing just fine’ mean living alone with this kid?” Carmen spits and when she glances at JJ like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe, Sailor’s finally had enough and takes a step toward the older woman with a furious glare.

“Will you just let that go? God! He’s my best friend and he needed somewhere to stay, that’s it!”

“I don’t care.” Turning to JJ, she demands coldly, “Go pack your shit and get out.”

“No.” Green eyes hardening into chips of emerald, the redhead grabs his other hand as he goes to leave the room and steps in front of him protectively. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Carmen pinches the bridge of her nose, her voice low as she threatens, “I swear to God, Sailor, either he leaves or I’ll make him leave.”

When she feels his whole body go rigid behind her, she knows her mom’s won this particular battle and before she can even turn to face him he’s disappeared down the hall to her room without a word. Sailor whirls to face her like the wind outside, red hair flying over her shoulder like a whip as she seethes, “How dare you.”

The older woman sighs like she’s the one hurting and crosses to the window before closing it with a firm hand. “Drop it, I’m done arguing.”

“I care about him, Mom, you can’t just kick him out!”

“I said drop it! I don’t give a shit how you feel about him, I’m not having your homeless boyfriend mooching-”

“Jesus Christ -his dad beats the shit out of him!”

The words ring out like a bell, loud and clear and impossible to ignore. Carmen freezes in the middle of picking up a discarded can, tan skin turning pale as she stares, mouth slightly agape, at her daughter; the girl stares back unflinching, and despite her heart’s rapid staccato in her chest, her next words cut like a knife.

“He’s not homeless, okay? But his dad hits him, all the damn time. You’re not gonna stand by and let that happen, are you?”

Her mother’s eyes soften -for a fleeting moment, she looks like her old, caring self again- before they harden to steel, the open expression on her face slamming closed with all the force of a screen door in a hurricane.

“I’m sorry -really, I am- but that’s not my problem.”

Sailor flinches at the icy edge in her voice and looks down at the floor, jaw clenched tight as she tries to blink away the sudden burning behind her eyes. “I...I don’t know you anymore. My mother would never say that.”

She hears Carmen heave another deep sigh as her footsteps slowly head toward the front entry, “You and I have a lot to talk about when I get back from work, Sailor.” She says, followed by the snatching of keys and the door handle turning. “And that boy had better be gone when I do.”

The redhead looks up from her feet, watching the door slam behind her mother’s retreating form before hastily making her way down the hall to her room and like that morning, the wave of relief that she feels when she sees JJ still sitting on her bed, realizing he’s still here, is downright embarrassing but she’s well past the point of caring. In a flash, Sailor’s in his arms, face pressed against his neck as she cries, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Sail, you’ve gotta stop apologizing for things you can’t control.” He whispers when she eventually falls silent and she can’t stop the rough laughter bubbling in her chest, even as her whole world feels like it’s falling apart around her.

“Sorry.”

His own laugh is short and low in her ear, and then he’s pulling her closer as his hand draws soothing circles on her back. She lets herself relax for a brief moment, eyelids fluttering closed at his touch, before she takes a deep breath and pulls back to look him in the eye, hands carelessly wiping away the tears on her cheeks, “Help me pack.”

“...what?”

“When she kicked you out, she kicked me out, too.” She says matter-of-factly at JJ’s confused look while she abruptly kneels, pulling her old suitcase from under the bed and heaving it up onto the mattress.

“Okay, so she didn’t actually kick me out but she might as well have!” The redhead strides to her closet and starts picking out her favorite clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the bed as she fumes, “God, I even told her about your dad -I’m sorry, shit I did it again- and she said she didn’t care! Not to mention she had our neighbor spy-”

“Sail!” She’s so caught up in her rant that she doesn’t notice when JJ moves to stand beside her, and only when he puts his hands on her shoulders does she stop short, a Kildare County High School sweatshirt dangling from her fingers; she can feel him watching her and when she flicks her gaze up to meet his, she’s not at all prepared for the tempest of emotions -admiration, pride, empathy, something else she can’t name- all crashing like the surf behind his eyes.

Blue. Oh so blue. It’s been her favorite color ever since she knew what colors were and she thinks her favorite shade has to be the one she finds in his eyes: bright, clear, and ever easy to drown in if she’s not careful.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He says it in such a casual way that it’s impossible to think it’s not as intentional as the fingers that slowly tuck a stray curl behind her ear and the thumb that brushes along her flushed cheek.

She just shakes her head with a tiny, bashful smile and her words are an echo of a quiet, rainy night all those weeks ago, “I’m just doing what feels right.”

They fall into an easy rhythm after that, one that helps them both sober up as they fill her suitcase to the brim with everything Sailor thinks she’ll need for a long stay, wherever she ends up. The Chateau makes the most sense of course, but with the DCS breathing down John B’s neck recently, she’s not sure how viable of an option that is but there’s one thing she knows for sure: there’s no way in hell she’s coming back here any time soon. It hurts to leave her shell collection behind -for a brief, dark moment she toys with the idea of tearing the shelf down and smashing them all until they’re turned to dust but she pushes that thought away- so she takes her favorite, the lightning whelk that reminds her of JJ and that day on the beach, and gently tucks it away in her backpack to ease the sting, as a promise to one day return for the rest.

“Jackpot!” JJ exclaims and she looks up to find him on the floor by her chair, pulling up the loose wood board that hides her secret stash of booze and money and reaching in to snag a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels, holding it above his head with a triumphant smile.

“Shit, I forgot that was even in there,” She replies as she kneels beside him and snatches the whiskey from his hand before he can take a swig, slipping it into her backpack, “Not yet.”

“Oh, come on,” He laughs when she rolls her eyes at his pout and reaches into the dark space to pull out an old plastic lunchbox, along with a small flask that gets thrown in her bag without a second glance. “Boooo.”

“Patience,” She teases, opening the cracked lid to take all of the cash inside and stuffs it into the ziploc bag that doubles as a purse (“it’s cheap and waterproof, what more do I need?” was her argument when Kiara asked her why she didn’t have an actual handbag), which she then stuffs in her backpack. “We can get drunk after we get out of here.”

“You had me at ‘drunk,’“ He slides the floorboard back into place after Sailor tosses the empty lunchbox inside and then stands, pulling her up alongside him with his hand in hers, the other reaching out to grab the handle of her suitcase. “Ready when you are.”

The redhead takes one last look around her room, from the assortment of shells and pictures on one wall to her poster of Bethany Hamilton on the other and everything in between -her sanctuary for the longest time- before turning away from the familiar comfort of the old to face the enticing uncertainty of the new. “Let’s go.”

After a quick stop in the bathroom to grab her shampoo, conditioner, and toothbrush -no way in hell is she gonna share any of those with the boys- then the kitchen to grab some food for Binx and the cat himself from the back of the couch (surprisingly, he doesn’t put up much of a fight), they head outside and throw her suitcase and their backpacks in the bed of the truck along with her surfboard.

“John B’s probably gonna be pissed about the cat,” JJ says, leaning against the passenger door with his arms crossed, smirking as she gives him a flat look and unceremoniously dumps Binx onto the bench seat through the driver’s side window.

“Well, John B’s just gonna -stay, Binxy!- have to get used to it. I’m not leaving him behind.”

Across the street, Rachel perches on her porch as she watches the two teenagers with her beady little eyes and Sailor, feeling particularly defiant, grins wickedly. “J, watch this.” Waving to the woman to catch her attention she calls over the wind, “Hey, Rachel!” before slowly extending both middle fingers toward her, one at a time. “That one’s for my mom and this one’s for you, you nosy bitch!”

He instantly joins in and both hold their hands high, cackling with laughter, until the old crone scowls and slithers back into her house like the snake she is. “Good riddance,” the redhead says, opening the truck’s door and sliding behind the wheel, “Let’s blow this joint.”

“Joint?” JJ asks, climbing into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him, Binx instantly curling up on his lap, “Did you say joint?”

“You and weed, I swear...” She laughs and goes to start the engine before she realizes she’s grasping at an empty ignition and lets her head fall against the steering wheel with a thunk, “Son of a bitch, I forgot my keys. I’ll be right back.”

Going back inside isn’t as hard as Sailor thought it would be, but leaving is a whole other ball game. She snatches her keys from the bathroom sink where she left them and heads back toward the front door; she’s just passing by their family portrait when it hits her: this is it, the last time in who knows how long she’ll be here. It’s now or never. She thinks of it as a weight on her shoulders, one that’s been dragging her down for far too long, like Atlas holding up the sky, but unlike him, she’s going to break the chains and set herself free.

In one final, sudden burst of years of anger and hurt and frustration, she rips the picture from the hook and smashes it to the floor, sending pieces of glass and wood skittering down the hall before striding from the house and all its memories without a backwards glance, slamming the door behind her with a resolute bang.

-

Surprisingly, John B doesn’t give a shit about the cat when they show up at the Chateau but he does give a shit about Sailor and her well-being after they give him a quick rundown of the afternoon’s happenings.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sail?” He asks as he and JJ carry her bags into the house and deposit them in the spare room, the redhead trailing behind with Binx in her arms.

“That’s the age old question, bro,” She deflects with a shrug, taking a seat on the bed and setting the cat down beside her; he instantly takes off to explore his new home as she continues, “Who actually knows if they’re okay? What’s okay to one person can be completely different to another-”

“Sailor, seriously.”

She glances back and forth between the two boys -two sweet, caring boys- watching her with twin looks of understanding and relents. “Look, I’m still kind of...processing everything, alright? I’m not exactly sure what I’m feeling and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for me to find out but I promise you,” She says softly, looking them both in the eye, “I’ll let you know if I’m not okay. Deal?”

JJ shoots her an enthusiastic thumbs up while John B opts for a simple nod and she grins before pulling the bottle of Jack Daniels from her backpack with a flourish. “Good. Now, I think we could all use a drink.”

The trio (and Binx, house thoroughly explored) bums around the living room while the afternoon slowly turns to evening, the wind outside getting worse with each passing hour the storm moves closer, passing the bottle back and forth until none of them are anywhere close to sober. What started as a game of truth or dare quickly dissolves into straight up truth as they get remarkably philosophical about what animal they’d want to be (an eagle for John B, a wolf for JJ, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, a dolphin for Sailor) and then have a deep, animated discussion about the best Star Wars movie and why it’s The Empire Strikes Back. Later, when the whiskey’s down to a few sips left and their collective demons have retreated to the very back of their minds, JJ drunkenly suggests playing strip poker and both Sailor and John B have to remind him that none of them a.) know how to play poker or b.) even own a deck of cards.

“Damn it!” The sly grin falls from his face when he realizes they’re right and he dejectedly sinks back into the couch, head coming to rest on the redhead’s shoulder. “I wanna see you take your clothes off, Flynn.”

She laughs loudly and grabs the bottle from his hand before taking a big sip and passing it to John B. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Maybank.” Whiskey, she found out few months ago, hits her hard: her filter? Gone. Blushing? Aside from the flush in her cheeks from the alcohol, gone. Self-consciousness? As long gone as her father. She’ll flirt her heart out without giving a single shit and it’s both a blessing and a curse, as well as an endless source of secondhand embarrassment in the morning.

“That’s okay, you know I like a challenge.” He declares with a wink, cracking up when she plants her hand directly on his face and pushes him off her shoulder as John B snorts and downs the last of the liquor without either of them noticing.

“Jesus, get a room,” He uses the empty bottle to point down the hall, then sets it on the side table with a hollow thunk as he leans back and stretches his arms above his head. “There’s one right there.”

Sailor gives him a swift kick in the shin with her bare foot for that, plus the shit-eating grin on his face. The trio lounges around for a little while longer, relaxing in a whiskey-induced haze; the redhead finds herself nodding off every so often, slipping back further and further until her head finds a place to rest on JJ’s lap and her legs end up on John B’s. The feel of fingers running through her hair is so feather light that she can barely keep her eyes open and before she knows it, she’s down for the count.

When she wakes some indefinite amount of time later the room is dark, the only light coming from the moon shining through the windows and John B’s gone from his spot by her feet, Binx curled up in a ball on the cushion instead. JJ’s dead asleep, hand stalled in her curls and the sight of his head tipped back against the couch with his mouth slightly open is so damn endearing that she can’t help but smile, even as she reaches a hand up to gently shake his shoulder.

“J, wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” He groans, free hand sluggishly pushing her arm away. Sailor sits up and swivels to face him before shaking him again, giggling quietly at the way his head lolls from side to side.

“Come on, the bed’s way comfier than this.”

Sleepy blue eyes open to give her a heavy look that screams both gratification and longing and so much hope as he quips, “You just want me in your bed again, don’t you?”

She reverently rolls her eyes but reaches to grab his hands anyway and pulls him to his feet, both swaying in place before they find their balance. “And if I do?”

The corner of his mouth rises in a small, adorable smile as his fingers entwine with hers. “I’d say that’s right where I want to be.”

“Well, you’re in luck ‘cause that’s where I want you to be, too.” Still a little bit tipsy, her words are honest, sincere, and as she leads him down the hall, she realizes that old saying is true: drunk words are sober thoughts. After three weeks sharing a home, a room, a bed, she just doesn’t think she can sleep without him anymore and that belief doesn’t quite scare her as much as she thought it would.

Lying wrapped up in his arms in the dark, Sailor finds herself dreaming of a future -as much of a future an impoverished, quasi-homeless, not-quite alright, not-quite-seventeen year old can dream of- with the damaged boy that holds oceans in his eyes.

-

A few miles away, Carmen Flynn sits on her daughter’s bed with a broken picture frame in her hands as she cries, all alone in an empty house with no idea how to make things okay again.

-

let me know what you think! also, fun fact: sailor compares her short-term memory to a chimp because studies have shown that chimpanzees are the absolute worst at remembering things, not goldfish as we previously thought (they can remember things for at least five months, compared to chimps who, despite their similarities to humans, forget things in about twenty seconds). sailor, being a zoology nerd, would definitely find that fascinating and make it her mission to educate the masses that goldfish aren’t that stupid jj finds it both adorable and kind of hot

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves​ @jiaraendgame​ @hmsjiara​ @obxsummer​ @maysbanks​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @sunflowerbecca​ @obxlife​ @obx-adventures​ @sexualparkour​ @coltonparayyko​ @miawantsapuppy​ @jjmaybanky​ @ethereallust​

[sachigram]

Telescope Now Chapter 4

((click here to read on ao3!!))

When Izaya wakes again, it's dark outside. He jumps, thinking he slept all day, but then he realizes it's just raining again. He feels a bout of nausea from his sudden movement, and he quickly sinks back into the couch with a loud groan.

“You sick?” Shizuo's voice asks. Izaya squints up at him. Shizuo is still here? He's on the other side of the sectional, as if determined to be as far away from Izaya as possible.

“Why're you here?” Izaya asks, letting his head fall. He doesn't remember much of the night before after deciding to go to Sunshine 60. He definitely doesn't remember how he got home.

“Wow. Did you just entirely forget about last night, or are you still waking up?” Shizuo says, and Izaya rolls so he can look at Shizuo without lifting his head.

“We didn't fuck, did we?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo chokes on his own saliva, his face going bright red as he coughs.

“What?! No! What the fuck?!”

“Ah. Then I guess it doesn't matter what happened,” Izaya says. He pulls his coat a little tighter around himself. He wants a blanket, but he doesn't want to move, and he's damn sure not going to ask Shizuo to get him one.

“It matters,” Shizuo says. He's got his feet propped on the coffee table, and Izaya considers berating him for it, but he lets it go. Shizuo must have helped him home.

“How pathetic am I?” Izaya asks, chuckling at his own misfortune. “Reduced to being helped by someone who wants me dead. Is this what rock bottom is like?”

“Stop being dramatic,” Shizuo huffs. “You got drunk. It happens. I'd be wasted all the time if I were you.”

“Ah.”

“I mean— fuck, that came out wrong. It's just that you're, you know, going through stuff, and I'm just saying if it were me, I wouldn't be able to handle it,” Shizuo babbles. Izaya smirks.

“What about any of this makes you think I'm handling it?”

“It just seems like you're the type that can handle anything,” Shizuo says.

“Shizu-chan, you don't know a thing about me. I guess that's commonplace for you, isn't it? Not knowing things.” Izaya tries to glare at Shizuo, but it's more effort than it's worth, being an asshole when he feels this bad. “Why did you stay the night here?”

“It was raining,” Shizuo says. “Also you were...upset. I don't know, I guess I thought it'd make me look even worse to leave before you woke up. I should have, though, since you don't even remember half of what you said.”

Izaya frowns, hating this. What the hell did he say? Surely, even drunk, he wouldn't go professing all his secrets to Shizuo, right? He really doesn't need another reason for anyone to pity him right now, and it's not like he's ever held on to the hope that Shizuo returns his desires. He decided a long time ago that if he couldn't have Shizuo's affesctions, he'd accept all of Shizuo's hatred. This is old news, nothing worth fretting over.

Right?

“What did I say?” Izaya asks.

“Uh.” Shizuo rubs the back of his neck, and Izaya is mortified, on pins and needles as he waits for Shizuo to keep talking. “You cried. Like, a lot. It was kind of concerning. You were even crying while you were asleep.”

“Oh. That's all?”

“That's all?”

“I can live with crying while drunk. Maybe I'm a sad drunk. I don't get drunk often enough to know.” Izaya tilts his head toward the TV and snorts. Shizuo is watching a home renovation show.

“You also passed out in the middle of the sidewalk. I guess you blacked out from the alcohol. I didn't know how drunk you were until we were moving. I should've stopped you from drinking so much,” Shizuo says.

“Stop acting like you're responsible for me. It's annoying.”

“You're annoying,” Shizuo counters maturely.

Izaya is going to tell Shizuo to leave, but it sticks in his mouth, refuses to come out. Shizuo looks nice like this, in the dim light from Izaya's living room, his white sleeves rolled up and his hair tousled from crashing on the couch. Izaya just wishes he could watch Shizuo stuffing his face with food to complete the image. It's like observing a wild animal in its natural habitat after getting used to only seeing images of it hunting. Maybe Shizuo feels the same way about Izaya, because despite his casual demeanor, he doesn't seem very at ease. Maybe he thinks Izaya is about to attack when in actuality, Izaya can barely lift his own head.

“Do you need something?” Shizuo asks suddenly. Izaya realizes he was staring.

“No.” Izaya watches a woman on the TV have a breakdown about her counters being too dark. Everything about this situation is so bizarre that Izaya can't grasp it's actually happening. “Am I still asleep?” he asks, expecting his sisters to emerge from somewhere.

“Stop being weird,” Shizuo says with a grimace, and Izaya laughs.

“I think maybe I've finally gone insane. I don't recognize dreams from reality anymore. They all just blend together.”

“You mentioned that before.”

Izaya grumbles, tries again to remember the night before. He recalls bits and pieces, knows he was an emotional wreck. It's possible he spilled his guts to Shizuo and Shizuo is just being nice about it. Then again, Shizuo has never been nice about anything before, so Izaya doubts it.

“Can you do me a favor?” Izaya asks suddenly, and Shizuo blinks at him. “Well. Multiple favors, actually.”

“What?”

“Can you go to the medicine cabinet and get me some ibuprofen? It's in my bathroom upstairs. Also a glass of water— and a blanket. It's freezing in here.” Izaya shivers in emphasis.

Shizuo narrows his gaze at Izaya before standing and shuffling away. Izaya hugs his coat tighter around himself. It's really too cold, and he wants to adjust the heat, but he doesn't want to move. Asking Shizuo to adjust the thermostat would be like challenging the gods. Izaya has no doubts Shizuo would break the thermostat into something completely unrecognizable, an avant-garde masterpiece.

Shizuo returns with a grunt. He tosses a heavy blanket over Izaya's head, and sets the pills and water on the table. Izaya adjusts, recognizing the fabric of the blanket.

“You brought the duvet from my bed,” he says, amused.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know where you keep extra blankets?” Shizuo asks, defensive.

Izaya hums and lifts up to grab the pills. He pauses, groaning as the room spins around him. Carefully, he sets the pills back down and stands, hurrying to the bathroom where he collapses in front of the toilet and vomits until his stomach is even emptier than it was before.

“Now this is rock bottom,” he murmurs, leaning back and flushing the toilet with his foot. He stays on the floor for a few moments, trying to decide whether he should throw up more, or risk taking the pills now. He stands and leans against the counter, looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection seems to blur around the edges, almost as if he's just an illusion. He sneers at himself. “I don't have time for this today. Not while he's here. Torture me later.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Shizuo's voice asks, muffled from the wood of the door.

“Does that make you feel left out?” Izaya asks.

“Nah, knock yourself out. I'm gonna order food. You don't have anything here. What do you want?”

Izaya pauses, looking at the door in disbelief. He opens it, and Shizuo stands there, scowling at him.

“Well?” Shizuo barks.

“You're having food delivered here?” Izaya asks, giddy in spite of himself that Shizuo isn't leaving any time soon. “Get whatever you want. I don't think I'll be eating for a while unless I want to keep barfing.”

“Eh, soon enough you'll be craving something greasy. Tom-san always eats a lot after a binger.” Shizuo reaches in his pocket, pulling his phone out. He looks at Izaya closely. “Will you turn your nose up at a burger?”

Izaya grimaces, feeling nauseated at the thought of something so unhealthy. “If I do, you can just eat it yourself.”

“Fair point,” Shizuo says, and then he walks back towards the living room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Izaya asks his reflection. “Shizu-chan is hanging out with me.” He starts brushing his teeth. “Am I still dreaming?”

“Nope!” Mairu hops up on the bathroom counter, kicking her feet out as she watches him. “You've been asleep so long. I'm bored, you know?” She reaches out and pokes him. “I think Shizuo likes you.”

Izaya cuts his eyes at her. This is the first time he's actually seen either of the twins outside of his dreams. He looks around for Kururi, finally sees her hiding slightly behind Mairu.

“He seems worried about you,” Mairu continues. “You're way more popular than we thought.”

“You should've seen how many people came to your funeral,” Izaya says after he spits into the sink. “No one came to support me, aside from maybe Shiki-san. Kine wasn't even there.”

“Shiki-san likes you, too,” Mairu says.

“Different from Shizuo,” Kururi adds, her voice small. She sounds upset, and in contrast Mairu sounds too cheerful, like she's trying to make up for Kururi.

“Yeah, I don't think Shiki-san wants to jump your bones. But he might! Oh wow, that'd be something. We'd be loaded for real!” Mairu giggles and waves her arms around. “Hey, get over Shizuo and try to get with Shiki-san instead. Or Akabayashi-san! They're both executives, right?”

“I regret ever raising you,” Izaya tells them. He grabs his headband and pulls his bangs off his forehead so he can wash his face.

“Maybe this is what it will take to make you and Shizuo stop fighting,” Mairu says. “One big tragedy to bring people closer together! It's like a messed up love story.”

“Shizu-chan hates me,” Izaya says.

“Then why is he visiting you?” Kururi asks.

“I don't know. Why are you visiting me?” Izaya counters.

“We're here every day. You need other people, you know, aside from us.” She bites her lip, a nervous habit of hers, and she adds, quietly, “we miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Izaya says. He looks over at their faces, and his eyes burn. “I don't know how I'm supposed to move on.”

“We aren't going to let you move on,” Mairu says, and she reaches out to take Izaya's hand. He lets go of his facial products in favor of giving them his full attention.

“Is it really you in my dreams?” Izaya asks them. “Sometimes I see memories, but then other times it's like you're both trying to scare me to death.”

“Oh, who knows?” Mairu asks. She grins at him. “Maybe it's your own guilty conscience, or maybe we're just trying to wake you up.”

“You're both rotten. I don't know why I miss you.”

“I wanna talk more about Shizuo!” Mairu says.

“He asks us about you,” Kururi says.

“He does?” Izaya asks.

“Whenever he sees us, he'll mention you. He's kind of obsessed with you, but I guess you know that already,” Mairu says.

“Obsessed,” Izaya repeats, looking at himself in the mirror again. “He probably just feels sorry for me.”

“Would you feel sorry if it was him?” Kururi asks.

“You mean if Kasuka died?” Izaya puts a dollop of soap in his palm and starts his tedious skincare routine. “I don't know. I think I'd be happy if he was in pain. If he was miserable, I'd know he wasn't out forgetting about me.” He rinses his face and looks up to find his sisters aren't there anymore. Izaya takes a deep breath and towels his face dry before applying a moisturizer. Shizuo appears then, his eyebrows rising as he looks at Izaya.

“Wow. Are those cat ears?” Shizuo asks, grinning. He points to the headband.

“My sisters have matching ones,” Izaya says. “Or had, I guess.”

“Food's on the way. Sorry it's more junk, but I can't really cook.”

Izaya pauses and glances over at him. “Shinra told you to babysit me, didn't he?”

“'Babysit' wasn't really what he said,” Shizuo says, and he leans against the door frame. “Look, I liked your sisters. I really think they would've liked for me to...”

“Stop.” Izaya doesn't look at him, doesn't dare. He applies another product to his face and forces his voice into indifference. “Nothing has changed about me, Shizu-chan. So you've seen a glimpse of my personality you don't hate yet, so what? It doesn't mean you and I are going to be chummy.”

“No shit,” Shizuo snaps.

“What exactly do you think you're going to get out of this? My gratitude? Do you think I'm going to stop tormenting you? Allow me to ease your caveman thoughts before you have a meltdown— I'm the same person I always was, and I'm incapable of leaving you in peace.”

“I-za-ya.” When Shizuo says it like that, it's almost like a song, like a prelude to an incoming battle cry. Izaya tenses, can't help it, but at the same time, he's craving for Shizuo to throw a punch. Izaya needs some normalcy, and even if he's enjoying Shizuo's company for some incredibly bizarre reason, a fight would make them both feel so much better. Izaya has a lot of pent up tension, is practically vibrating with it, and Shizuo must be able to tell, because the fury in his eyes evaporates and is replaced with something else, something terrible.

“I don't want your pity, and I don't want your help,” Izaya hisses, glaring at him. He feels such hatred in his body that he thinks he might sink into the ground from the weight of it.

“I don't pity you,” Shizuo says.

“Right. I'm sure some part of you enjoys this. I'm actually proud, Shizu-chan, that's very cruel of you. I didn't think you had the brain power to be so vindictive.”

“I'm tired of hating you, Izaya,” Shizuo says suddenly, his voice rising. He grips the top of the door frame and cracks it. “It's exhausting, and it's stupid. We're too old for this shit.”

“So saving me from myself is going to make me hate you less?” Izaya spits, and Shizuo growls before taking a step forward.

“Where does this end? Tell me that. When you envision your life without me, is it because you've killed me? What do I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone?!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya takes a step back, can't help it. He's cornered, and they both know it. Still, Izaya isn't capable of yielding, and he's even less capable of shutting up, even when it's good for him.

“I don't envision you at all unless it's the idea of you dying in front of me.”

“Bullshit. You're obsessed with me, you won't even let me walk down the street without trying to pick a fight with me. Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya leers up at him.

“Because you're an idiot, an overgrown toddler who destroys everything in his path the second he doesn't get his way. You spout your incessant drivel about hating violence, but violence is all you are, all you're capable of. You're a hypocrite, Shizu-chan, and I could forgive so many things, but I truly hate hypocrisy.” Izaya slaps another serum on his face and turns back to the mirror. He's well-aware of how strange this scenario is, Shizuo arguing with Izaya while he's grooming and hungover. This is a new one, strange even for them.

“God, just shut up, I'm so tired of arguing with you,” Shizuo says, shoving Izaya a bit. Izaya caches himself on the counter and turns, a knife in his hand.

“Get out,” Izaya says, and Shizuo looks from the knife to Izaya's face.

“No.”

“I mean it, get out. I feel like shit and your questions are idiotic. You're really going to ask me why I hate you? Are you really that stupid?” Izaya lifts the knife to Shizuo's neck, but Shizuo still doesn't back down. Of course he doesn't. “Last time I checked, you hated me just as much as I hate you. Can you tell me why?”

“Because you're a shitty parasite who ruins everyone's lives. You know all the shit you've done to me! You're obsessed, like I said—“

“Stop saying I'm obsessed with you like you aren't equally as hyper-focused on me. Sometimes I don't even do anything! You'd rather blame every problem you have on me than take responsibility for yourself.”

“That's because it is always to do with you, and you fucking know it!” Shizuo shouts, tilting forward. The knife slides a bit, and a trickle of blood flows from Shizuo's neck. Izaya watches it drip down, his lips curling in a snarl.

“If you hate me so much then just leave! I didn't ask for you to help me, I didn't ask for you to save my life, and I'm not asking you to stay now, you fucking monster!”

Shizuo throws a punch, and Izaya moves out of the way before slashing wildly at Shizuo's chest. Shizuo curses and jumps back, and the wall cracks where Shizuo hits it. They glare at each other, hatred clear in their faces, and Izaya can't help but grin wickedly. This is more like it. This is the monster he knows so well.

“God, Iza-nii, do you just have to ruin everything?” Mairu's voice asks from behind him. He whirls to face the mirror, and it's her face he sees instead of his own. She sounds hollow, echoing. Sometimes the twins sound like this, and sometimes they sound clear as day, as if they're really next to him.

“You aren't real,” he tells the mirror. His hand loosens around the knife, and it hits the floor, clattering on the tile. Shizuo looks at it, and then back at Izaya.

“You're really fucked up, aren't you?” Shizuo asks, but Izaya is still looking at Mairu's face. It's so easy to tell she isn't really alive anymore when she looks like this, twisted and contorted. She vanishes, and Izaya sees his own face, hisses and yanks the headband off before he steps past Shizuo and leaves the bathroom.

“Just get away from me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, but of course Shizuo follows. He watches with a frown as Izaya marches into the kitchen and fishes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet.

“Is that really a good idea?” Shizuo asks. “You're already sick.”

“Hair of the dog,” Izaya says, pouring himself a serving. He glances at Shizuo, sighs, and then gets out a glass for him, too.

“You wanna share your fancy shit with me?” Shizuo asks. Izaya shrugs.

“Sure, why not? Give you a taste of things you can't afford on your own. It'll hurt that much more next time you're forced to buy cheap.” Izaya pours it and slides it towards Shizuo, and then he raises his own glass. “To you, monster. May you live a long life full of destruction and torment.”

“Yeah, fuck you, too,” Shizuo growls. He takes a sip, and his eyes widen a bit.

“Smooth, right? This is Shiki-san's brand. I don't break it out very often.” Izaya throws his drink back and shudders. His stomach lurches in protest, and he worries the drink might surge back up, but it doesn't. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“I've had weirder,” Shizuo says. He leans on the counter and watches Izaya closely. “You never answered my question.”

“I'm sure I'll die of old age before I answer everything you don't understand,” Izaya says.

“Where do you see this going? I mean it, do you really think we can fight forever?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya gazes down into his empty glass thoughtfully.

“I try not to think about you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, and there is truth in that. He tries very hard to think about anything else.

“If you don't think of me, then how the hell do you come up with your batshit crazy schemes to piss me off? Why can't you leave me alone?”

“I don't envision my life without you, either,” Izaya says simply, and he looks up at Shizuo's confused expression.  

“We can't keep this up forever.” Shizuo takes another sip of his drink. “One of us is going to die if we keep fighting.”

“A hatred like ours won't just go away. Hate is a strong emotion, one of the strongest we're capable of. If you truly hate someone, you hate them forever.”

“I don't buy that. You can stop being an asshole, and I'll stop chasing you down. It's as easy as that.”

“Is it?” Izaya asks. He pours himself another glass before he tops Shizuo off as well.

“You're the one who won't let this go,” Shizuo says gruffly.

“You're right,” Izaya replies, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “It's not possible for me to stop hating you.”

“What if I just stop giving you the time of day? Stop rising to it, like everyone's always told me I should?” Shizuo asks, his eyes darkening as he leans closer to Izaya.

“Do you really think you can ignore me?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo throws the rest of his drink back before baring his teeth.

“I think I'll kill you if you don't back the fuck off.”

“So then kill me,” Izaya says. “I always imagined you would.”

“You want me to kill you?” Shizuo asks in disbelief, and Izaya pouts as the familiar ferocity leaves Shizuo's features.

“I'd love it if I could kill you, but I don't think you're human enough to die. I'm sure one day you'll go too far, or I will, and then you won't stop. You'll kill me, and everyone will know what you're capable of.” Izaya smiles, but it's not kind, and it's not happy. “I win either way.”

“You're crazy,” Shizuo snaps. He slams his empty glass on the counter, and it shatters. Neither of them look away from each other. “Something's wrong with you, something with your brain.”

“Pot, kettle,” Izaya says, and he gets out another glass for Shizuo. “You asked me if I'd leave you alone, and now you have your answer.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I fucking do. You're never gonna stop bothering me.”

“And you'll never stop chasing me. Isn't there a comfort in that?” Izaya asks as he pours Shizuo's glass. Shizuo barks a laugh, and Izaya looks up at him, dazed, taken aback that Shizuo could ever seem so relaxed in his presence.

“God. God. Yeah, there is.” Shizuo lifts his new glass of whiskey to Izaya. “Somehow, you're the most stable thing in my life.”

“I do aim to please you, Shizu-chan.” Izaya smirks before he sips his drink. “I bet you're wishing you let me get hit by that truck now, huh?”

Shizuo grimaces as he tosses the entirety of his drink back. “No.”

“Liar. It would've solved all your problems, and it would've been hands-off for you. Hell, you would've had a front-row seat to it! Do you think you would've been in the splash zone?”

“Izaya, fuck, stop. I don't want to think about it, okay? You—“ Shizuo shakes his head, tops off his own glass this time. “Do you really not give a fuck about yourself at all?”

Izaya scoffs, not liking the direction this conversation is going. Shizuo was supposed to like the idea, was supposed to lament saving someone who would never change. He isn't supposed to be looking at Izaya like this, like he actually gives a damn.

“Is that why you were on Sunshine last night?” Shizuo continues, and the implications hang. Izaya snorts.

“You think I was going to jump?”

“Were you?”

“Is that why you're here, Shizu-chan?”

“Answer my question, flea.”

“Answer mine!”

They glower at each other, Shizuo leaning over the shattered glass on the counter, and they both startle when there's a knock at the door. Shizuo grumbles and moves towards it, and Izaya watches him go, considers putting a cleaning product in Shizuo's drink, but thinks better of it.

“How domestic of you to answer my door, Shizu-chan,” Izaya lilts. “Rumors will spread, you know? You can't even blame me for it.”

“Fuck you, it's the—“ Shizuo starts, and then he growls. “Dammit, Shinra, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?!” Shinra shuffles inside, Celty in tow, and they both look from Shizuo to Izaya. Izaya's head throbs.

“Great, now there are two monsters in my home,” he mutters, sipping more whiskey. He feels like he'd rather be alone with the ghosts and his looming insanity than deal with all this at once.

“Did you stay the night?” Shinra asks Shizuo, ignoring Izaya and his dramatics.

“Well, yeah, I mean... It's storming and he's...” Shizuo jerks his thumb towards Izaya. “He's losing it.”

“That implies there was something left to lose!” Shinra says, laughing, and Izaya sees red. He throws his glass at Shinra, but Celty's shadows catch it before it makes impact. “Izaya-kun! What was that for?!”

Rather than answer, Izaya picks up the entire bottle of whiskey and pads towards his couch. He feels them all looking at him, but he's too tipsy to care. They're murmuring amongst themselves, and Izaya is busy tuning them out when someone jumps onto the couch next to him, startling him.

“Mairu,” he hisses lowly as she shakes his arm. She feels so real, so heavy next to him.

“Iza-nii! I'm bored!” Mairu exclaims, and the entire couch seems to move with the way she's bouncing.

“You're going to hurt him,” Kururi says, appearing at Izaya's other side.

“Look at him, he's already hurt!” Mairu keeps shaking Izaya, who has to fight to put the bottle on the coffee table before she can make him spill it. “IZA-NII!”

“Get off me!” Izaya snaps, shoving at her. It does nothing, as he just seems to phase through her. He looks at his hands, wondering how she can touch him, but he can't touch her. “You can't be here now, I'm not alone,” he whispers vehemently.

Neither of the twins seem to hear him, or more likely, they're ignoring him. They barely listened when they were alive, so Izaya isn't surprised. He feels himself being tugged by them, by something else, and he closes his eyes as a light blinds him and makes his terrible headache even worse.

When he opens his eyes, he's on the roof at Raijin. Izaya would recognize it anywhere. He used to come up here for lunch and for quiet, though Shinra would often find him anyway. He looks down at himself and is surprised to find he's transparent. He can see the tiles below as if he's not really here at all.

Off to the side, he sees a younger version of himself absorbed in a book. Izaya recognizes the title, The Picture of Dorian Gray. He still has the book at home, and he rereads it pretty often. He watches himself for a few moments, and then he hears movement on the stairs, voices carrying. The younger version of himself scoffs before ducking behind the wall, out of sight. The door opens to reveal Shizuo storming out onto the roof, Shinra chasing after him.

“Fucking drop it, Shinra!” Shizuo yells, his hands in fists. He whirls on the younger Shinra, who throws his hands up in surrender. “I'm not being nice to that goddamn bloodsucker! I'm tired of you talking to me about him; it just pisses me off!”

“I'm sorry! It's just that you're both my friends, and...” Shinra rubs at the back of his neck. “It'd be so much easier if we could all hang out together. I really think you two could be great friends.”

“What did I just say?!” Shizuo takes a threatening step forward, and Shinra howls before jumping back. “He's been sending thugs after me! I know it's him, and I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck until his head pops off!”

“Shizuo-kun, please, he's just trying to get a rise out of you! He's still really mad about you hating him on first sight, and—“

“If you say another word, one more word to me about making nice with that bastard, I'm gonna seriously hurt you. I hate him, and I want him dead. If I never saw him again, it'd be too fucking soon.”

Izaya watches them, and then he turns to his younger self, winces at the expression he sees. He remembers this day, remembers overhearing this conversation.

“I just wish you didn't feel that way,” Shinra says, and then he sighs. “C'mon, don't threaten me! I'm your friend, you know?”

“You're his friend, too,” Shizuo spits, and he crosses his arms. “I mean it, Shinra, I'm gonna kill him one day. You might as well get it through your head. I can't be chummy with a guy like that.”

“It boggles the mind that you're even chummy with me,” Shinra says, grinning wryly, and Shizuo shrugs.

“Yeah, don't remind me. You're just one of the only people who isn't scared of me, that's all it is.”

“Liar,” Izaya says, knowing full well no one can hear him. “I wasn't scared of you either, and you hated me for it.”

Shinra and Shizuo leave soon after, and Izaya is left alone with the younger version of himself, who is fingering the corners of his book forlornly. Izaya wishes he could say something to himself, but at the same time, he has no idea what he'd even say. He doesn't have any wisdom to offer, and as for comfort, every version of himself would reject it.

“This is when I decided I'd make him hate me more than anyone else,” he says aloud, watching as the young Izaya goes back to reading, huddled in a corner, tucked into himself. “I thought if it was the only way to get him to look at me, I'd be okay with it.”

“Does it work out?” the younger Izaya asks, suddenly looking right at him, maybe even through him. “Are you happy?”

“Does it matter? He's looking.”

There's a tug on his arm, and Izaya jerks awake, finds he's flat on the floor beside his coffee table. Shinra is hovering over him.

“Izaya-kun? Hey, it's okay.” Shinra puts a calming hand on Izaya's cheek, and Izaya leans into it, needs to know Shinra is really here. “Do you know where you are?”

“I'm home. Shizu-chan was here...” Izaya looks around wildly until his eyes settle on Shizuo, who is standing beside Celty, a worried look on his face. “Weren't we just at school?”

“School?” Shinra asks. “What did you see?”

“My sisters were here...” Izaya groans and tries to sit up. A fresh wave of nausea hits him, and he curls into himself instead. “You think I'm crazy.”

“I don't. I think you're going through too much for anyone to go through alone.” Shinra leans down, closer to Izaya's ear. “I'm here,” Shinra says softly, and Izaya withholds a laugh. If this isn't real, this is the cruelest trick his mind has played on him so far.

“You're heavy,” Izaya mumbles, and Shinra pulls back, offers a hand to help Izaya up.

“What the hell is this? He's seeing ghosts and passing out? And we're gonna act like it's okay?” Shizuo asks, and Shinra sighs as he supports Izaya onto the couch.

“It could be a lot of things. All of this could still be the mind processing grief, it could be sleep-deprivation—“

“I slept fine last night,” Izaya interjects, and Shinra looks between him and Shizuo, his eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo says, narrowing his eyes at Shinra. “You asked me to look after him, and he was freaking out. What was I supposed to do, leave him here alone?”

“It's just above and beyond what I asked you to do, that's all,” Shinra says, and then he turns to Izaya. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Hungry,” Izaya says earnestly. “Aren't we having food delivered soon, Shizu-chan?”

“It's here already. You just had to go and pass out.” Shizuo walks towards the couch, a paper bag in his hand, and he sets it on the coffee table in front of Izaya.

“I'm so happy the two of you are finally getting along,” Shinra says happily. He wilts when Shizuo and Izaya both give him a look.

“Can you leave? I was fine till you showed up,” Izaya says.

“So you were fine alone with Shizuo-kun?” Shinra asks.

“Yes,” Izaya snaps as he unwraps his hamburger, which is ridiculously big. “Look at this thing. How the hell do I eat this, Shizu-chan?”

“You eat it, dumbass. Can you even eat real food, or do you exclusively live off the blood of others?” Shizuo asks as he flops onto the couch beside Izaya. He reaches for the bag, and he hums in thanks when Izaya passes it to him.

“Well, Celty, I think we can go! They seem fine!” Shinra says, and he balks when Celty's PDA shoves into his face. “Really, they're doing great! You heard Izaya-kun, he wants us to go!”

“Celty can stay. You're the one on my nerves,” Izaya mumbles through a mouthful of food. Shizuo's lips twitch upwards.

“Celty and I are a package deal!” Shinra wails, and he looks closely at Shizuo. “Call if anything happens, okay?”

“Shinra really should monitor you. You passed out so suddenly.” Celty's PDA floods Izaya's vision, and he squints at the bright screen, his eyes struggling to adjust.

“I'm fine. You can all go,” Izaya says.

“No. You can relent to letting Shizuo-kun stay, or you can come stay with me. You can't be alone, I'm sorry.” Shinra steps forward and puts a hand on Izaya's shoulder, his fingers squeezing.

“As if any of you care what happens to me.” Izaya tries to shrug Shinra's hand off him, but Shinra holds on tight.

“I do care, and so does Celty.” Shinra frowns and shakes Izaya a bit. “I really think you should come stay with us for a while.”

“He's fine, I'm watching him,” Shizuo says. Izaya grimaces at him when he sees Shizuo is already almost done with his own burger, his cheeks full of food like some sort of monstrous rodent. He glares over at Izaya. “What?”

“Watching you disgusts me,” Izaya says, leaning forward to put his burger on the coffee table.

“You watching me disgusts me!” Shizuo shoots back.

“How am I supposed to look at anything else when you're smacking and—“

“Okay!” Shinra says, his hands going up. “Don't kill each other. I don't have other friends to replace you.” He nods at Shizuo, wordlessly conveying his thanks, and then he's tugging Celty towards the door. Izaya tongues at his cheek, and when he hears the door closed, he turns to Shizuo.

“You can leave now, monster. I don't want you here.”

“Tough shit,” Shizuo replies, wadding up the paper his burger was wrapped in. “Shinra's right, you shouldn't be alone.”

“I don't want you here!” Izaya shouts, and Shizuo stiffens. Izaya rarely raises his voice, hates to lose his cool, but the longer Shizuo stays and acts like Izaya is anything other than an enemy, the more Izaya feels himself slipping. “Get out.”

“So you're just gonna sit here feeling sorry for yourself?” Shizuo asks gruffly, his eyes looking from Izaya to the bottle of whiskey still on the table. “Flea—“

“Out, I said! Out, get the fuck out of my apartment!” Izaya stands, wobbles on his feet, and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing his wallet and a few bills. He throws them at Shizuo. “For your junkfood. Leave before I call security.” He makes his way back upstairs and flops into his bed, too hot with anger to even care his duvet is still on the couch. He doesn't relax until he hears the door close below him, and he's honestly surprised when Shizuo doesn't slam it.

***

It only takes a day for Shizuo to come back.

Izaya is curled on the couch, his eyes on the TV, though he doesn't know what he's watching. He barely flinches when his door bursts open, and when Shizuo comes to the couch to hover over him, he keeps his eyes trained on the TV screen.

“Simon said to give this to you,” Shizuo says, putting a bag next to Izaya. “He said it's your favorite.”

Izaya doesn't look at him. Shizuo growls and kicks at the couch.

“Oi, did you hear me? Are you deaf now, flea?”

“I don't want you here,” Izaya says irritably. He sniffs and pulls his blanket up higher, hiding more of his face.

“Tough shit, I don't care what you want.” Shizuo crosses his arms and stands there. “You think you deserve peace and quiet when you never give me the same courtesy? Fuck you.”

“Then do what you want, just shut up.”

Shizuo scrutinzies him, taps his foot on the floor. “What's wrong with you? You look worse than usual.”

“The urns are here,” Izaya says, motioning to the counter. He put them right next to the broken glass he's yet to clean. “Told you they'd liven things up.”

Shizuo hesitates a moment before he sits next to Izaya, closer than he did the day before. Izaya tosses the remote at Shizuo, who catches it and flips through the channels before settling on some cheesy movie. Neither of them speaks for a long time, and it's Izaya who eventually breaks the silence.

“I didn't look in their coffins.”

“Huh?” Shizuo glances at him.

“I didn't want to see their bodies. I didn't want to remember them that way.” Izaya rolls to his back, and he watches Shizuo's face. “I'm actually a coward, you know?”

“I wouldn't have wanted to look either,” Shizuo says.

“Mm. I wish I had've.”

Shizuo keeps staring at him, a frown on his face, and Izaya laughs softly, shaking his head.

“I'm just not really convinced they're actually dead.”

“Flea.” Shizuo sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. “They are. They're...gone. Don't do this to yourself.”

“Then tell me why those urns are empty.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Zihang finished wiping down the kitchen, looking over the sparkling surfaces with a sense of pride. After pouring over cookbooks, shopping for ingredients, prepping, marinading and finally cooking, the shine on the the countertops was like a silent applause.

He turned his head, Meixiu was still in her office working. She had taken on a bit of extra work making dance instruction videos in her spare time. They were quite popular and she thrived on the praise being a natural performer. 

After her videos started getting traction, she took a brief online class about editing and quit halfway through, to figure things out herself and establish her own style. 

He walked silently towards the room, listening to see if she was recording. He leaned his ear to the door but heard no voice. So he knocked softly.

“Come in.”

When he opened the door, she turned to him in her swivel chair, her noise canceling headphones drape around her neck. The desk was covered in cameras on stilts, microphones and papers full of scripts. The computer monitor displayed her video editing software. Her smile told him it was going well but he didn’t want her to work now.

He wanted her company.

“Its unhealthy to sit too long.” He said, completely deadpan. 

She laughed. “You’re right.” She bounced off the seat and stretched her arms to the ceiling.

Zihang’s mind produced an image of himself walking up, wrapping his arms around her waist and twirling her in a circle. 

But he just stood in the doorway and let the feeling subside.

She giggled again, the laugh lighting up her face..

His eyes shifted away for a second. “Wanna go for a walk?” He asked. He cleared his throat at the sheepish tone in his voice. 

“Sure.” She turned around and leaned over the text to save her work and his eyes watched how her form was perfectly wrapped in her designer leggings. His lungs expanded in an involuntary reaction. He didn’t think she heard him sigh until she walked past him and struck his chest with the back of her hand. “Let me change into something nice.”

“Okay.”

She walked to their bedroom and disappeared behind the door and Zihang walked to the living room. The walls of the hall were lined with family photos of Thailand and Chicago. Most of them featured Ru’Yi in various stages of growth. He especially liked her in her little uniform, wearing her backpack and smiling with missing front teeth.

She looked a lot like her mom in that picture.

The door opened and Meixiu emerged in a simple T-shirt and jeans. She bounded past him and started slipping into her shoes at the door. “Let’s go!”

To keep up with Zihang on walks, she almost had to trot, but she had the energy and the footwear and didn’t mind. Evening walks in the summer were heavy with humidity and it wasn’t long before sweat started showing through her shirt, but she didn’t let go of his hand even though both their palms were slippery.

“So what were you working on?” He asked.

“A video on poses.” Her tone was light and carefree.

“Poses?”

“Yes. Even though dancing is about movement and technique. How you go in and out of poses are like the cherry on top of a delicious cake!”

Zihang stopped, let go of her hand and stepped back. “Show me.”

She laughed and nodded. “Okay. So usually a dance will start with a pose.”

She held her arms close to her chest, her fingers splayed like a birds feathers. Her neck arched and her toe pointed. She smiled at him. 

“I see.”

She broke the position. “Oh do you?”

“Yes. It is like the silence before beginning a piece of music.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s true! I should add that line to my script! Ah! You come up with the best lines.” She took his hand again. “Poses are important no matter what dance you do.”

They came around the corner and heard thumping bass coming from a car. Zihang instinctively stepped in front of her but she peered out from behind him.

There was some sort of block party. They didn’t live in a dangerous neighborhood but one couldn’t be too careful. The group was all young men, dressed in what was viewed as fashionable: Caps, loose jeans, sleeveless shirts and sneakers. Zihang turned to go back the other way but Meixiu didn’t follow him.

She was staring mesmerized as one of of the young men danced on his heels and then threw himself to the ground, spinning on the back of his shoulders. He rotated, kicking his legs, carried by his own momentum until he stopped in a hand stand, his legs twisted up, like a modern art statue. Before falling to the ground in another series of chaotic maneuvers.

One could easily dismiss what they were doing as pointless flailing, but Meixiu was fascinated, her eyes fixated on the scene in front of her.

Zihang noticed that her attention was garnering attention of its own and took her hand. “Let’s go.”

“No... wait. This is really cool. He’s really good.”

Zihang frowned as the young man got up and received a good ribbing at his friends. 

“Yo, you’re about the steal that guy’s girl. Ha ha ha ha!”

The dancer looked in her direction and Meixiu started to clap. Zihang resigned himself to follow her. He didn’t death glare the young men but he did evaluate the situation, looking for any weapons or danger and found none.

“You’re really good.” Meixiu said, boldly walking up into the middle of the group. “Can you show me some of your moves?”

“Ahaha... sure...” He seemed suddenly shy and then fathered his courage. “Alright! Back up!”

Someone turned the volume up until the car began to rattle and this time the dancer went into a routine that clearly wasn’t choreographed but still had a musicality to it that surprised Zihang. It wasn’t pointless flailing at all. He was actually moving to the beat and cleverly so. 

He had to admit he was impressed and understood what Meixiu saw in him. Meixiu was far more expressive in her delight cheering him on and pumping her fists.

Once the display was over she approached him. “I know this is crazy but... do you mind if I have you guys as guests for my Channel? I teach dance online and... it’s not much of a following yet but I would love to feature you!”

“Wow seriously?” They looked at each other. “Yeah for real!”

They gave Zihang wary looks as they exchanged information. 

“I’m sorry I probably won’t be your big break or anything.” She said, ducking her head bashfully.

“We compete so... we get on TV and everything.” One blurted only to told to shut up by the person standing next to him.

“I would be surprised if you weren’t... you guys are really talented.” She looked over the number on the piece of paper. “Okay next time I’ll bring my cameras!”

Zihang didn’t relax, however, until they were back  on their usual route and walking far enough away. “Their music is too loud. They’ll suffer hearing loss.”

“They’re not thinking about that.” She looked up at him. “Thank you for letting me talk to them.”

His eyes shifted away briefly. “They were just kids.”

Her eyes lowered a moment. “It’s great that they can spend their time doing what they love.”

“I’m interested in that dance style.”

That got her attention. “You what now?”

“I’m interested in it. I think I will try it out.”

“You were not giving off that vibe just now, Zihang. I swear you’re impossible to read.” She laughed. “I’d love to see those skinny boys give you lessons.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so handsome!”

“Why are you laughing.”

“Because you’re so handsome!”

“That is not an answer.”

@nonose-kei

[matt-skc-rp]

Wait, Which One Was Yours Again?- Youni Advent Day 3: Hot Cocoa

The first snowstorm of the season had already blown through the school grounds, and with the extension of the Greek house social distancing exchange, Suzy was not too excited, but not very happy, either. She couldn’t even go back home to see her family or even go back into Gamma to stay in her room and occupy her own space. The visits that she would do- like the one she just did today with Matt- were just not enough. 

“Is the heat always this...functional, in the winter?” Suzy asked as she pulled off her hoodie, “I’m fucking cooking in this house!”

“We made it so that we had a fireplace that heats the center of the house like a heart. Then, we save money when the HVAC actually cuts on, and it gets so cold up here, that running both is natural..I don’t know why you didn’t expect that, one of our presidents is Canadian. They know all about extreme cold and saving money,” Matt explained as he prepared their mugs.

“Hehe..hm, I guess you’ve got a point there,” she said, “Then what’s with your room being so cold?”

Matt turned around, taking his vape off the table and taking a hit, blowing rings in the girl’s direction, making her giggle as she kicked lightly, not taking an eye off of her thighs, “I like it on the cool side, and I’m usually smoking cigs, and I don’t want the smoke to linger in my room.” He loved how she looked wearing a baby tee with some lounge shorts, sitting on his school hoodie. She must know what that does for him, her hair hanging out of the usual tie and ponytail she wears with the fresh blush on her cheeks of her sweat. The way this was all comfortable, and her easy amusement made everything so wholesome and familiar. 

“That makes a lot of sense...guessing you close the window when I get down there?” she asked.

“Yup..Either that or I crack it..you want cream in yours?” he asked, turning his attention away from the girl sitting on the island.

“You already did that!~” she quietly pointed out, feigning shocked and kicking his back with her foot playfully, “But I could never mind a little more...and cinnamon, too, please!”

“Coming right up! You get to try our house’s specialty hot cocoa-”

“Your house has a specialty cocoa?” Suzy looked up from her phone, “I thought that was only Alpha..”

“Gamma have one?”

“Nah...we just heat up chocolate G-Fuel with milk and Yoohoo-”

“That sounds interesting and very unhealthy, but what can you expect of streamers and gamers, right?” he said, waiting for the kettle to heat up and focusing his attention on her thighs again. He liked how even though she was sitting on the counter she was still underneath him, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek with his thumb as she moves to suck it slowly and seductively, then both breaking character to laugh as he grabbed the canister of cream, playfully and gently grabbing her jaw at its base, pointing her head up and lightly squeezing her cheeks, “Open your mouth for me,” he commands.

The words made the girl swoon a little as she opens her knees to bring them closer as she stuck her tongue out and gets a few seconds of spray of the homemade creamy foam onto her tongue as Matt sat down the canister and grabbed Suzy’s waist, locking their lips as she took in the foam and tasted it and the musty nicotine of Matt. She wrapped her arms around him as a moan tumbled out of her mouth as they shared a long and deep kiss while the kettle began a low whistle. “That was amazing~!” she moaned as he pulled away to grab the unmarked bottle, chocolate syrup, and a bottle of cream, “I want more~”

“You always want more, Suzy..you’re so needy” Matt joked, pulling out the electric stirrer and putting the ingredients together in a medium tumbler glass with some cinnamon powder.

“No, but seriously..that was the..sweetest whipped cream I’ve ever had...the kiss made it so much better..” she mentioned as she grabbed the canister next to her.

“We make out stuff in-house, since we usually don’t leave and our house made us follow this code of taking pride in the pure materials that makeup small things. So we source as many things as freshly as possible and make it ourselves...Also, we’re very particular about our coffee, so we have to hand-pick our materials, which also make great deserts...” he said as he poured the mixture into his large mug and goes to wash the head and the tumbler.

“Who made the whipped cream?..What’d you just put in yours?” Suzy asked as she kept taking samples of the cream.

“Homemade Kahlua liquor..figured you didn’t want to get even hotter by having bourbon whiskey liquor warming you up in your hot cocoa..Also, it’s strong,” he said, dipping his finger in his mug and coming over to allow her to taste it, Suzy again seductively sucking on his finger with some familiar tactfulness and class. Matt breathed as she moaned again from the flavor. 

“I really like it~” Suzy bit her lip as she playfully wrapped her legs around Matt’s waist, to pull him in, “And of course your trailer park ass needs brown alcohol to keep warm..it’s so..primitive, but...more rustic coming from you..”

“It’s called Southern charm and hospitality, baby~..A lil love makes everything a lil better...” Matt cooed after he handed the girl her large mug with the cocoa powder and sugar and the bag of extra large marshmallows, which she sat the bag on the counter and waited for the water. He takes the assembles and garnishes her mug with the cinnamon as per her request atop her whipped cream that hid the huge pillow floating in the chocolate. He finished assembling his own and toasted with the girl for the first sip. 

~Half a cup of Cocoa later~

Matt’s panting fills his bathroom as he braced himself as he thrust into his counter while Suzy twirled the leather around her hand one more time as she moaned almost uncontrollably. “Slow d-down~” she breathed as she took a brief.

“Yes mistress...what do you need, baby?” he asked, interrupted by his own moan.

“I’m ready to cum..I-I want more cum. Touch me,~” Suzy panted as she tried to focus, feeling the buzzing of her body as Matt’s hand planted around and above her against the mirror, moves to caressing her face and pulling down to her jawline to pull her in for a sloppy and kiss before the girl brought her hand up to grab his two fingers and slides them in her mouth. The thought of how messy they looked, his hair draping over her and their excessive sweat making them sweaty as her pale skin is littered with hickies on her thighs, stomach and neck as the hunger for their release churns in them made her blurt a breathy chuckle as the sugary cream lingered on his fingers from earler. “Put those sweet fingers to work.”

[khaelisfics]

Short Soumate AU - the concept was “your soulmark is a reference to what your soulmate likes the most”, and I rather liked it!

Tagging @doctorroseprompts, in case this can fit into a prompt!

I hope you’ll like it! :-)

He had scoured every modern art museum, every ephemeral exhibition throughout the country, combed through thousands of websites about painting, drawing, sculpting, bought hundreds of magazines and books about the subject. No name, no face he had encountered had caused that spark he was desperately looking for.

He tossed his ticket in a nearby bin, annoyed and disappointed he hadn’t found her in that tedious expo in a dark corner of London. Listening to wrinkled man on the verge of falling asleep each time he stopped talking in that monotonous crow had put his patience to the test. Looking at depressing paintings about death and phantasmagorical creatures made by an artist who obviously didn’t know black and grey weren’t the only colours that existed hadn’t helped. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing he hadn’t found her there, actually. He didn’t know what he would feel if his soulmate happened to be a deranged woman fascinated by necromancia and festering cadavers.

A liquid shiver rolled down his spine at the thought, and he hurried to take out his list of current exhibitions he needed to go to.

“Nope to Nighthorses 66, then,” he mumbled under his breath, crossing the name of the exhibition with the pencil he always kept in his pocket. “Next is… S.C.M. Just hope this doesn’t stand for super creepy monsters."

He shoved his quickly shortening list back into his pocket and headed for the nearest underground station. It was already quite late in the afternoon, and he knew he should call it a day, head back home and get a full night of sleep if he didn’t want to doze off over his desk the morning later. But he also knew the disappointment and frustration of not making any progress, the longing he felt to finally find her growing into some kind of unhealthy obsession only predicted long hours spent tossing and turning in his sheets without finding Morpheus’ comforting embrace.

He took a quick look at his watch, ignoring the soulmark on his arm as if it’d just been a cheap tattoo he would forever regret, and made his decision. He hopped out of the train a few stations later, didn’t look twice at the large mural on the wall he had learnt a few years back had been painted by a foreign young artist, and made his way up the stairs. He was getting tired to try and see her where she wasn’t. A sticker on lamp post with a cartoonish drawing. Crass tags in back alleys, elaborated frescos on iron curtains. Street traders who sold ridiculously expensive prints of artworks stolen on the Internet. Everywhere he looked, he was tempted to believe it was her, and every time, he was a tad more disillusioned when he found out it wasn’t.

His worn chucks squished on the wet pavement as he made his way to one of his favorite places. It was a cramped bookshop in the corner of an ever-deserted street he had discovered the first time he had moved in this part of the city, rather by accident than real intention, and he came back to it every week, some weeks every day. It wasn’t as much the books as the owner that always brought his steps back to that small shop that smelled of yellowed paper and dust. Rose, was her name. A young woman with honey-eyes and wheat-hair, full lips and round nose. He knew she was just his friend, but sometimes, he wished his soulmark could be a small pile of books, or a meaningful quote from her favorite author - not that odd-shaped moon that belonged in a Van Gogh painting. His soulmate was an artist, not a bookworm. Not the woman he had dreamt of so often he believed he must have broken a hundred rules and, though unwillingly, cheated on his real soulmate on several occasions. Not Rose. Never Rose.

The small bell chimed when he pushed the ancient door open and the sound of his steps died on the heavy carpet. She was nowhere in sight - probably in the cellar she called a storage room, or in the broom cupboard she called an office. She would eventually pop out, like she usually did whenever the bell rang. His feet took him to the only alley he was interested in, and he picked up an old encyclopedia that had lost a bit of its varnish. He had always wanted to buy this book, but it almost was a relic, and not only did it look like it, it was also worth it. He sifted through random pages, smiling at the centuries-old mathematical formulas and theorems that had long been replaced by more precise, and especially more valid ones.

“You should buy it before it’s gone.”

He hurried to slide the heavy book back in its space at the sound of her smiling voice and twirled on his feet to greet her with a smile of his own.

“Rose, hi, how…” he started before his mouth gaped open and his voice died in his throat.

He first noticed the dark blue apron she was wearing over her eternal oversized jumper. Then he spotted the pencil she had stuck behind an ear. And he finally understood the multicoloured stains dotting and streaking the apron were paint. That wasn’t right. Rose loved books. She was a bookseller. Not an artist. He would know if she were, after so much time spent sharing coffees and pointless conversations. So much time spent wishing she could be the one.

“Fine, if your question was how are you,” she giggled, wiping her hands on her apron so she could give his shoulder a friendly slap without harming his pinstriped jacket. “How are you?”

“I, uh, yeah, good, I suppose,” he nodded - he found his voice again when he managed to ame his heart hammering against his ribs. “What are you doing with all that equipment?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, John?” she taunted as she motioned for him to follow her through the maze of crammed corridors. “I was about to close, I didn’t think anyone would come so I just started working on a little something. D’you wanna sneak a peek?”

“You never told me you liked painting,” he said, almost reproachful.

“You never asked.”

She led him to the door that was plastered with a large sticker that read storage, offered him a shy smile and pushed the door open with a finger.

He couldn’t move. Instead of a dark, small room filled to the brim with rows of old books, he saw a bright, large space void of anything. Anything but paintings, hanging on the walls, haphazardly propped up against the walls. Colours bursting out of the canvas like fireworks, fiery landscapes and smooth still-lives, abstract shapes that made him feel so many things at once his heart flew to his throat, meticulous portraits of people she probably knew given the depth and the familiariaty that oozed from the faces. She was painter. A very talented painter. An artist. Rose was an artist.

“I wanted to show you the one I’m working on,” she said as she strutted towards her easel that was directed towards the window, unaware he was staring a her as if she’d just turned into one of the monsters he’d seen at the weird exhibition. “I think… You’re the expert, maybe you can tell me if I did it right?”

He could only nod even though he barely heard her words and watched, speechless and on the verge of collapsing under the weight of the unexpected revelation. Rose was an artist. She turned her easel towards him, and what he saw made his stomach twist into tight and uncomfortable knots.

“That’s a golden spiral,” he said, running a feverish hand through his spikes of hair. “Logarithmic spiral, it’s… Maths.”

“Yeah, I know,” she smiled, a quivering smile that lacked its usual enthusiasm. “Does it look… Dunno, accurate?”

“Accurate isn’t the first word that came to my mind,” he said softly, taking a few steps towards the painting to let his fingers hover over the snake of yellow and soft orange. “This looks beautiful, Rose.  Why did you paint this?”

“‘Cause I found out…’ she started, sheepishly rocking on the ball of her feet. “What my soulmark is. I didn’t want to know, because I’ve always thought I would meet my soulmate whether I knew or not. But then… I mean, you came along and you made it really hard to resist the temptation.”

“What’s your soulmark, Rose? Please, show me.”

He held his breath as she slowly rolled her sleeve up her arm, stared at her pale skin covered with lines and lines of tiny numbers from her wrist to the crook of her elbow. He wanted to scream his joy, cry his relief, he wanted to hug her and kiss her and let his whole body and soul finally love her. But he simply blinked and swallowed it all down. She had never told him about her mark. She had never wanted him to know, and she probably had a hundred good reasons not to tell him.

“That’s the Fibonacci sequence,” he told her, unconsciously tugging on his own sleeve to make sure she wouldn’t see his mark. “It’s… My favorite sequence, actually.”

“I know,” she shrugged with an embarrassed twist of her lips. “I mean, I figured. You’ve bought several books about that sequence from me, you know. Doctor Smith, clever scientist and mathematician and all.”

He noticed the dejection in her voice, the way she gently kicked the foot of her easel and lowered her eyes to the carpet. He was hurt, deep and violent, that she didn’t seem to want any of what he had to offer, but that didn’t make him any less indifferent to her own pain. He slipped a finger under her chin to catch her eyes and give her a gentle look she didn’t want.

“Talk to me, Rose,” he said softly, fully cupping her cheek when she started to bow her head again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I know you’ve got a bit of Starry Night on your arm,” she answered with a sharp nibble on her lip. “I know that… You would have found out I like painting, sooner or later.”

“Why wait until now, then?” he asked, befuddled by the tears that started to roll down her cheeks. “Rose, I don’t understand, what’s wrong?”

“Look at me, John,” she sighed, swatting his hand away from her face. “Look at me and tell me I’m the soulmate you’ve always wanted. Tell me I was made for you. Tell me you can ever love me. I don’t want you to think I’m the one is all. There has to be someone else for you, John.”

They matched. He didn’t understand why she refused to see it, refused to believe it, refused to accept she could be his soulmate. They matched. That’s all he understood. Her mark was a mathematical sequence. His mark was actually borrowed from a Van Gogh painting. They matched. And he had fallen for that woman so long ago, To know he had already learnt everything he loved about her, to know she was the one. That left no room for tears or unhappiness.

Despite her protests, he cupped bot her cheeks again and hurried to press a soft, lingering on her lips before she could draw back. Rose was an artist. Rose was the one.

“You’re the one I’ve always wanted,” he whispered, catching her lips between his again to steal her answer. “You were made for me, like I was made for you.”

“John…” she tried to complain, though she was slowly melting into his arms, little by little, a little more each time his hot breath caressed her chin and his lips danced against her own. “I’m not…”

“There’s no one else for me. You, just you. God, why did you have to wait so long, Rose, we’ve lost so much time. All that time spent looking for you when I had already found you. All that time spent pretending I didn’t love you when I could have shown you how much I do. “

“You do?” she breathed out, pulling away to see that truth in his eyes.

He only sat on her stool and pulled her sitting over his lap, his mouth hungrily looking for those lips he wanted to devour, his chest pressing hard against that body he wanted to touch, his heart reaching out for that shared loved he wanted to drown into. Rose wasn’t just an artist. She was his soulmate.

[misssophiachase]

NikMik: ok 1 more & then i promise i'm done. i just watched a video on youtube by iisuperwomanii about saying "i love you" going wrong. (check her out. she's awesome). prompt: caroline says "i love you" to klaus but he doesn't say it back. when he brings it up later, caroline tries to pretend like it never happened.

Cute prompt luv, sorry for the delay. Hope you like it!

Thinking Out Loud

Caroline…

“Hesaid what?” Katherine asked in disbelief. 

“Thankyou,” she mumbled, hating how it sounded rolling off her tongue given the badmemories it evoked. 

“So,you said I love you and he said…”

“Yes,Bonnie,” she hissed. “I’d rather not relive it yet again, it wasmortifying enough the first time.”

“Idon’t get it,” Katherine commented. “You’re a hot, intelligent, sexualgoddess and he can’t even manage a four word response?”

“Inever knew you were so familiar with her sexual prowess,” Bonnie chortled,sarcastically. 

“Wetook gymnastics together since fifth grade, that girl has amazing flexibility,what guy wouldn’t want that expertise in the bedroom?” Caroline blushedslightly, remembering his recent praise of her performance. 

“That’sall physical, it’s obvious he doesn’t think much past that,” Caroline murmuredself consciously. She didn’t put herself out there very often and one of thefirst times she did it backfired spectacularly. She’d made a quick exit as soonas possible so as not to prolong the embarrassment. 

“Bastard,”Katherine and Bonnie uttered in unison. Caroline had decided she needed toextricate herself as soon as possible if there was something she prided herselfon it was her self respect. She had no intention of being some guy’s bootycall.

Ithad started like that. Caroline and Klaus had met through their friend andbrother respectively who were dating. Many drinks had been consumed and they’dstumbled from the bar unable to keep their hands to themselves. Caroline hadbeen surprised they’d behaved themselves in the cab before shedding theirclothing at her front door and not stopping until the sun came up. Insatiablewas an understatement. 

Surprisinglythough they’d made it past that first night and actually went out on datesrather than keeping it all in the bedroom. It was the reason she’d decided toconfess her feelings after six months. She was crazy about him but given hisresponse he was anything but. Caroline had no intention of wasting one moresecond on the ass. 

Klaus…

“Yousaid what?” 

“I’mnot telling you again so you can give me more grief, Lorenzo,” Klaus growled,wondering why he’d chosen to admit his recent indiscretion to his best friendand younger brother of all people. 

“Ohbut you deserve it,” Kol chuckled. “If I did that to Bonnie she’d probablyhave killed me by now.”

“You’rerevelling in my discontent aren’t you?” 

“Icould lie but what’s the point,” Kol drawled. “So, what’s the problemexactly, Niklaus? I know Caroline can be rather opinionated and feisty butshe’s not exactly difficult to look at and if I’m being honest…”

“I’d rather you didn’t elaborate,” Klaus groaned, thinking that if anyone wasgoing to talk about his girlfriend’s attributes, it was going to be him. 

“Hear,hear,” Enzo agreed. “So, what’s the issue Mikaelson? Those peskycommitment issues rearing their ugly head?”

“You’vebeen going out with my sister too long,” Klaus scoffed. “If you must knowthere’s no problem.”

“Butyou said thank you,” Kol reiterated. “Pretty sure that wasn’t what she washoping to hear big brother.”

“Thanksfor the reminder, Kol,” he shot back. Klaus had been floored when she utteredthose words. It was dawn. They were lying in bed, Klaus placing kisses on heradorable, freckle sprinkled nose as she giggled happily. He was fairly certainhe couldn’t be any more happier than at that very moment. 

They hadn’t discussed their relationship in detail. Klausknew he wanted nothing to change. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if he lost her.  Then she murmured those three words, they were equal parts whispered as they were hesitant. 

Klaus had panicked, not because he didn’t love Caroline but because he’d never been in this situation before. As easy as it seemed, Klaus froze, not knowing what to say or how to say it.  Then he’d come up with that stupid response which he’d been kicking himself about since. 

“I have to go,” he said, hurrying from the room and knowing exactly what he had to do now. 

“Fine, but if you’re expecting a thank you I’m afraid we can’t oblige,” Enzo said, sending them both into fits of immature laughter. 

Caroline…

She’d left her friends and the apartment, desperate for some routine given her thoughts were driving her crazy. Caroline would never let some guy get to her in the past but it was Klaus and every fibre of her being was telling her she couldn’t hide from the truth. She loved the idiot. 

She scoured the supermarket shelves, trying to remember if they needed ketchup. She decided to throw it into the trolley, Katherine was addicted so it wouldn’t matter if they had an extra bottle anyway. 

“I’m more of a soy sauce fan,” he murmured, breaking her from her trance. 

“Well, pity we’re out of stock,” she growled. She could see it in abundance on the adjacent shelf but wasn’t talking about condiments anymore. “And how did you find me anyway?”

“Katherine mentioned you liked to shop when you were….”

“When I’m what?” She huffed, flipping around so her pony tail lashed him across the cheek. 

“Restless,” he offered, albeit feebly. 

“I’m not restless, in fact I’m perfectly in control,” she insisted. “You see this?” She grabbed a six pack of coke. “I may be a diet coke drinker but you know what? I don’t even care about the extra sugar and calories.”

“When you say you don’t care about the calories it kind of takes away from this whole not caring thing, love,” she narrowed her eyes in his direction. “You know, just saying,” Klaus offered weakly. 

“What exactly do you want, Mikaelson?”

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hissed, pushing the trolley forward and throwing a months worth of potato chips inside. 

“I’m an idiot,” he admitted. 

“True.”

“And I want to make it up to you,” he continued. 

“Go on,” she swallowed, not slowing her pace around the aisles as she grabbed a whole host of unhealthy foods. This guy had made her most awkward moment even more so and he deserved to pay. “You know what, maybe I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I told you I loved you and you said thank you!” She cried, unfortunately a little loud given the way the whole supermarket went deathly silent. This wasn’t awkward at all. 

Klaus

“You did what?” A bystander questioned him. Klaus realised that approaching her in public had its down side. 

“This girl is a gift,” another one added. “If you ask me, she’s better off without your sorry ass.”

“Well, I don’t recall asking your opinion,” he muttered, wishing his social life wasn’t playing out amidst the rush hour shoppers. 

“I think that says it all,” she said to Caroline. 

“I don’t even know you, Miss, all I want is to speak to my girlfriend.”

“Are you sure she’s still your girlfriend?” Another shopper offered. “I mean soy sauce and ketchup are streets apart, maybe you’re just too different?”   

“I love her, alright!” He cried, realising that now the whole supermarket was aware of his feelings. “I always have.”

“Says the guy who said thank you,” the nearest shopper snickered. 

“I was taken off guard, okay,” he muttered. “Girls don’t usually love me. I had a girlfriend once who said I was abrasive and difficult to love. So, I decided to write off any future opportunities.”

“You did what?” Caroline murmured, moving closer, her blue eyes boring into his. 

“I fell in love with you the first time we met but didn’t imagine you’d ever feel the same way,” he conceded, his gaze now downcast.  

“If you two don’t kiss and make up I’m going to write off all my romcom hopes and dreams,” the brunette to their left offered. “And I’m starting to believe that soy sauce and ketchup can co-exist.”

“You love me?” 

“Probably more than you’ll ever know, sweetheart,” Klaus said, half grinning. “But I’m willing to tell even more members of the public if necessary.”

“I think you’ve done okay,” Caroline teased, pulling him closer and placing her lips on his. “But don’t think I won’t expect any more public displays of affection.”

“Funnily enough, I think I can handle that, love,” he grinned, pulling her in for another kiss. The crowd around them began to cheer but for some reason Klaus was only focused on just how good her lips felt against his. 

[emphoenixcat]

Candy

Summary: Patton accidentally mentions to the others that Logan owns a unicorn onesie. Logan refuses to join in on the festivities.The day after Halloween, Logan wants some leftover candy, but is too embarrassed to ask.

*Kind of based off of an anon ask and answer post on @ask-us-sanderssides

Patton, Roman, and even Virgil had gotten into the spirit of Halloween. They had dressed up and had a movie marathon all night long. Patton had dressed up as a pirate, Roman dressed up as the dreaded dragon witch, and Virgil dressed up as Jack Skellington. They had had fun making cookies, caramel-covered apples, fudge, s’mores, cupcakes, pie, and all sorts of sweets!

The other sides had begged Logan to join in on the celebration. Logan had grudgingly decided to join in, but had neglected to wear a costume. “Oh come on Logan!” Patton pleaded. “At least wear that cute unicorn onesie you have. Please?” Patton gave Logan his sad puppy dog eyes.

Before Logan could come up with a response, Virgil chimed in. “Wait---What?  Logan has a unicorn onesie?” A smirk slowly spread across his face, “I have got to see this.”

“Oh Logan! Unicorns are one of my favorite creatures, do you really have a unicorn onesie? That is adorable!” Roman laughed. The other sides regarded Logan with interest.

Logan felt his face go red. His embarrassment quickly turned to anger. “Patton, that was supposed to be a secret! I only wear it when I am particularly stressed out. Comfortable attire that inspires confidence is important. That is the only reason I wear it” Logan pushed his glasses up and crossed his arms angrily.

Patton looked apologetic, but then grinned, “Aw you only wear it when you need to believe in yourself Logan?” They all started giggling, even Virgil although he tried to hide it. Now Logan was really feeling insulted. “You have lost all chance of me dressing up! I have important work to do anyhow” Logan was ready to pop out of there. Patton put his hand on Logan’s shoulder, “No wait! Please don’t go Logan, we were just teasing. At least have some sweets we made. It’s Halloween! Time to load up on sugar and celebrate! We want to spend time with you.”

Logan wanted to join in on the festivities, but he was the logical side. The reasonable side. He was really ashamed to have such feelings. He was ashamed to have any feelings at all. He especially hated how he had had to admit the reason he wore unicorn pajamas in the first place. So when he looked at Patton’s expectant face, Logan summoned his will and said “No thank you” and with that he was gone.

Patton felt guilty about upsetting Logan and wanted to make it up to him, but he didn’t really know how. So while they were watching The Nightmare Before Christmas movie, Patton decided to ask “ Do you guys think I should try to bring Logan some of the sweets we made as a sort of apology?” Roman and Virgil exchanged glances. Roman bit his lip, “Um last time I offered Logan something remotely unhealthy, he yelled at me about how we were shortening Thomas’ lifespan. And that was just a french fry”

“Oh….” Patton sighed. “Don’t worry Pat, he’ll come around” Roman reassured him. Virgil quickly nodded, “He can’t stay angry at you for long. Besides, we all kind of made fun of him”

“I suppose you’re right” Patton nodded slowly. “At least you guys enjoy celebrating Halloween with me” Patton smiled and resumed watching the movie.

The next day, Logan woke up and went downstairs to find the kitchen completely in disarray. Of course he thought. Well, I guess I better get to work on cleaning this up. Logan went in the other room to get the cleaning supplies out of the closet. At least I can sneak some sweets while the others are still sleeping. Logan did try to eat as healthy as possible, it was only logical. But he really did have a weakness for junk food no matter how much he tried to kick the habit. He wasn’t about to let the other sides know, especially Patton. Patton loved baking and would make Logan’s unhealthy habits so much worse.

Logan came back to the kitchen and was surprised to see that Patton was already there wiping the table down and placing the leftover treats in the fridge. “Oh hey there, Lo!” Patton smiled warmly. “Sorry about the mess, I was meaning to take care of it before going to bed last night, but I was tired. Breakfast will be ready soon or did you want to help out?” Patton eyed Logan curiously. Patton usually made the meals for everybody, but he knew that sometimes Logan liked to help out from time to time. Logan was really good at measuring and cutting. And he actually saved Patton from burning down the kitchen a few times.

Logan agreed to help, but as he went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs, he noticed the chocolate cupcakes with orange frosting and purple sugar sprinkles. Oh that looks good he thought. Snap out of it! Think healthy. Stop letting your emotions control you. Logan closed the fridge and went about cracking the eggs into a bowl. “Is everything okay, Lo? I’m sorry if I upset you last night, I really just thought that you’d want to dress up and enjoy Halloween with us” Patton said quietly. Logan sighed, “Patton, you know I am not very good when it comes to socializing.”

“Well, Virgil isn’t comfortable socializing and he still came out of his room to hang with us. I am so proud of my kiddo” Patton grinned. “Yes, but Virgil enjoys Halloween and dressing up. That’s not me.” Logan replied.

Patton turned to look at Logan and crossed his arms. “I don’t believe for one moment that you don’t like dressing up and eating sweets every so often.”

Logan shook his head, “I don’t do anything without reason or without thinking about the consequences.”

Patton suddenly smirked, “Falsehood”

“Don’t you dare use my own words against me!”

Sudden inspiration hit Patton and he went to the fridge and pulled out a jar of Crofters jam. “What about this then? You mentioned it in one of Thomas’ videos without rhyme or reason! This is a rather sweet snack”

Beads of sweat ran down Logan’s brow, “That was for a video and besides that, Crofters jam has its health benefits”

“Okay….” Patton nodded. He reached into the fridge once more and brought out the chocolate cupcake that Logan had been eyeing earlier. “I suppose this doesn’t interest you in any way” Patton inched the cupcake closer to Logan’s face.

“No, of course not” Logan straightened his glasses and tried his best to look composed.

“Logan….you’re hands are shaking” Patton observed.

Logan blushed.

“Not everything you do has to be 100% logical”

“But….”

“No, give yourself a break Logan. You ought to know that sometimes the best way to take care of yourself is to give yourself a treat for all the hard work you do” Patton said gently. Concern in his eyes. Patton carefully placed the cupcake in Logan’s hand.

Logan glanced at it and then at Patton. “I suppose….you’re right” he admitted grudgingly. “But don’t go ruining my dietary plan, Patton. Who else is going to keep Thomas from indulging in pizza and sweets?”

Patton nodded, “I know how to take care of my son. I want him to be healthy too, but sometimes you just gotta….” he beamed

“Wait, no. Don’t!”

“....treat yo self!” Patton said proudly.

“I hate you” Logan groaned

Patton laughed

[hufflein]

ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ

 hogwarts is magical, even in terms of love. a story in which idiots pin after other fools that refuse to accept disgusting emotions. otp(s): sinmei, jessbom, naeun, & arichan. ✉: bc #yolo i have no life. this is for highkey for shits & giggles but also lowkey to give feelz to marauders squad. 

“seungyeonie! there you are ~”

said boy peers up from the book he’s reading, blowing strands of dyed blond hair out of his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. there’s merely one reason hufflepuff’s head boy would be searching for him, & one reason alone. “hello hyung. let me guess-- you’re wondering where mei is.” 

shinhwa chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “well. yeah. not that i don’t enjoy your company or anything. you’re great, kiddo.”  he affectionately ruffles the younger’s hair, “let’s hang out tomorrow after your care of magical creatures class.” seungyeon playfully rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah i’m up for it, hyung. in any case, your beloved happens to be with her friends. said something about heading to the great lake. i think saebom tagged along?” 

- - - - - - - - 

“saebom, WHAT in MERLIN’S NAME are you DOING?”

“i’m playing with the big guy, arazely. what else?” the slytherin boy smirks as he wrestles the tentacles of the school’s lake’s resident, the giant squid. 

“oh my god why is he like this” mei groans, planting her face in her hands in embarrassment. “he really needs to stop asking for trou-- wait. jess?! where’d you get that popcorn?”

“shhh we’re trying to enjoy the show,” nadine automatically interrupts while shoving popcorn into her mouth, completely invested in the scene unfolding before them just as much as jess is.  “MATE THIS ISN’T A REAL FIGHT, DON’T HIT ME, THE HELL! NOW YOU’VE DONE IT, C’MERE”  arazely & mei both want to melt into the grass. saebom oh is overly frustrating ninety percent of the time, yet the two can’t help but worry for his dear life.  - - - - - - - -

“what were you thinking? you could have gotten yourself & squiddy hurt! if i were slytherin’s head boy, i’d be taking points away for this.”  the four girls watch sinhwa lecturing a soaked saebom from under the shady tree. his gentle nature is gone, a stern one taking its place. nadine elbows mei’s side, “your boyfriend’s kind of scary when serious. it’s beautiful.” 

“he’s not my boyfriend,” she whines, shoving nadine away from her. 

jess jumps in, not taking her eyes off of saebom. merlin, he looks more attractive than usual. “yeah, nadine. not her boyfriend. yet! soon hopefully. they’re both dumb.”  

“um at least my quote on quote boyfriend hasn’t gotten into a wrestling match with the giant squid!” 

“you want to fight? let’s go, right now.”  “sit doWN JESSICA WE ARE NOT DOING THIS RIGHT NOW” arazely struggles to pull jess away before she lunges at their friend. nadine is no help whatsoever because she’s rolling on the grass, clutching onto her stomach from laughing too hard. 

the commotion is so loud, the boys turn to them, a glint of curiousness washing over their confused faces. once they catch sight of the poor hufflepuff straining to pull back a wand equipped jessica, they rush right over. 

- - - - - - - -

“you’re such an idiot. imagine if you had caught a cold. not that i care though. the entire fiasco was hilarious.” the lavender haired female speaks, ignoring her quickened heart beat. 

she & saebom are currently making themselves comfortable in the slytherin dungeon’s couches. the fireplace is lit, providing a pleasant & much needed warmth to the boy that had gotten himself in quite the predicament not that long ago. 

“it caught your attention, that’s enough for me. cold or not, it was worth it.” 

“stop being gross, i’ll castrate you, i swear” 

a pillow is flung at his head, hitting straight in the face. a laugh runs past his lips as he flings it back, careful not to smack her in the area in which she did him. his interest in jessica isn’t a secret. never has been, never will be. it’ll be shocking if anyone DIDN’T know about his known feelings, honestly. there’s nothing saebom wants more than to be able to hold her hand & kiss the top of her head, be with her during good & bad times. but, in the end, he can’t seem to read her or how she feels in return. 

so, the only thing he can do for now is tease the heck out of her. 

“hey, jess.”

“what?” 

“you’re cuter than any pygmy puff i’ve ever seen.” 

“IF YOU DON’T SHUT Up SAEBOM OH” 

“it’s true though? when have i ever lied to you?”

gods, help her, she could explode at any minute & it’ll be all of his fault. why does he have to be irresistibly adorable? she could have fallen for any other idiot, but no, she had to fall for this specific one.

“you have three seconds to run before i ACTUALLY hex the fuck out of you. one.”

“JESS PLEASE NO”

“two”

“JESSICA”

“three” 

a frantic saebom leaps out of the couch in under a split second, dashing tpwards his dorm room, leaving a pleased jessica smirking to herself in the common room. ah, yes, she indeed adores that boy. too much that she believes its unhealthy at this point. 

- - - - - - - -

“i can’t believe mei & jess ditched us for their boyfriends,” nadine huffs, arm hooked with the girl next to her. “i know you wouldn’t betray me like this, ari. don’t be like those losers, stay the way you are: sweet & wonderful.” 

“uhm, yeah, no, i wouldn’t dare to betray you like that. never ever, bub,” arazely says amusingly. little does her friend know that a bouncy ginger she claims to despise is heading their way, & of course the younger doesn’t warn her. why on earth would she waste an opportunity this good? 

clearing her thoat, the hufflepuff hums. “will you look at the time! i’ve got to go meet up with.. um... seungyeon! that’s right, we’re having a study meetup today. gotta go, bye!”

“ARI, WAIt WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY SO QUICKLY--”

“hey nadine. wanna go on a date?” 

that stupid, beautiful voice. she knows its owner like the back of her hand. she takes back everything said about ari. she’s a fake & a liar!!! her friend is going to get it when she sees her again, she swears on merlin’s beard. 

“i’ve told you, euncheol. i don’t date gryffindors. they’re losers” nadine turns to her housemate. yes. they’re in the same house, yet--

“you’re a gryffindor, nadine. calling yourself a loser now, are ya?” euncheol raises a questioning brow, arms crossed against his chest. 

“i’m the exception. anyway, shouldn’t you be worried about, i don’t know, graduating or something? this is your last year. saddening, isn’t it?” 

“mm, that’s exactly right. tis why i’m using the opportunity to see you again in future years. because you’re a person i don’t want to lose sight of.” 

nadine is stunned for a few seconds, thinking how he’ll be the death of her. she goes from taken aback to pretending to gag. “you’re so disgustingly cheesy. but that’s something i terribly like about you.”

euncheol can’t help but grin from ear to ear at the sudden revelation. his cheeks turn pinkish, not knowing what to say.

the girl rolls her eyes before matching his smile. “hogsmeade, next saturday after the hufflepuff vs ravenclaw match. deal?” 

“you got it!” 

- - - - - - - -

whenever mei happens to be with sinhwa, they always somehow end up in the courtyard, especially during a bright, sunny day with a beautiful sky shaded blue. the pair is constantly seen together yet everyone wonders why they aren’t together-- a couple. their feelings for one another is clear as a patronus prancing its way through darkness. 

taking a seat on the nearest bench, mei pats her lap with both hands, signaling him to rest his head on it. being head boy comes with countless responsibilities & although he seems to be unfazed most of the time, mei still worries. 

sinhwa contently sighs the moment the back of his head is cushioned on top of her thighs. their eyes meet & they begin to laugh. her fingers soothingly thread through his dark strands, causing him to release another happy sigh. 

“how’s everything? still pooped after that last prank?” mei questions with a faint smile. saebom & chanuk had made such a mess that day, they had detention for three weeks straight. 

“i’m fine, really. wasn’t slightly fazed. those two don’t surprise me anymore. i should know better than to believe they’d grow out of being pranksters.” 

“well, you know i have your back anyhow.”

“mm, that i do believe, miss megan.” he smiles, booping her nose. “thank you. your support is very much appreciated.” 

truly, it’s no wonder that the student body knows there’s something there. seeing them interact like that can make even the headmistress swoon & that’s no lie because she has before. 

- - - - - - - -

“seungyeon, seungyeonie, where is he? aaa i checked everywhere,” arazely pouts whilst walking the student-filled corridors. 

okay, so maybe searching for seungyeon was simply to cover her butt in case nadine wanted to kick it for leaving her with euncheol, even if she did it out of love. 

being deep in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice that she’s going to crash into the person in front of her until someone grabs her by the arm, bringing her to the side. 

“watch where you’re going, ara. it would’ve have been pretty if you had bumped head first into that scary lookin’ dude.” 

“oh, chanuk! you saved me from doing something dumb. again. haa, thanks for that.” 

“how many times has it been now? a million?” he questions smugly. “you’re seriously indebted to me. who else is going to rescue you that many times? no one, only me.” 

the hufflepuff girl pouts, “for the record, i don’t ask you to. you just do. because you’re kind like that. isn’t that right, chanukkie?” 

“sure i am. to you. if it were anyone else, i wouldn’t blink an eye.” he shrugs his shoulders. 

her face quickly heats up at his words & before she knows it, she starts running because nope, not today. good bye chanuk, you’re not about to make her feel things. 

it’s not long after that the slytherin boy’s amused laughter echoes throughout the halls of hogwarts school of witchcraft & wizardry. 

- - - - - - - -

next time on idiots in luv: arazely continues to run away from chanuk, jessica almosts confesses her tru feelz for saebom, mei & sinhwa have to do something abt these goddamn pranks, & nadine goes on her lil date with euncheol. that is all for today, goOD NIGHt.

[coffeenfun]

Stays

Summery: The reader gets a few weird letters on her door step

Triggers: bad dates, eww guys

Word Count: 2800+ (yeah, I got a bit carried away)

A/N: I posted part one of this in September and have had a writers block ever since so please forgive me for this long awaited sequel. Thank you to everyone who supported the first part and helped me write this.

Tagging: @helllaellla @bovaria @marvel-ash @marvelfanfichq @givebuckyhisplums2k16 @starstar1012 @fairy-frills @emilypkuzu  @annadier @buckystories @shamvictoria11 @feelmyroarrrr  @totheendofthelinepal @thelazyorange @creatorofwritings @callingmrsbarnes   @passiononfire @potterhead7656 @whotheeffisbucky @palaiasaurus64 @likochkah @professional-fandoms @james-bionic-barnes @eileenlikesyou-maybe @poe-also-bucky @blue1928 @lauraonly @hellomissmabel @elkandprongs @lostinspace33 @growningupgeek @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @coltcas @shesegwin @fellyjo @spnmythologygeek @ryverpenrad @imyourliquor-youremypoison @universal-glitch

Leaves (Part 1)

3 years. It has been 3 years since you found out who Bucky Barnes really was. 3 years since Captain America can visited you to give you that damn book. The one that had confessed the love you hadn't known was returned.

You kept it near you at all times. Once you lost it and you freaked out at your new roommates, accusing them of going through your room and taking what wasn’t theirs. It turns out that it had been wrapped in layers of scarves to protect it. To make it up to them, you had to write a long apology and make dinner for them.

You had never told anyone about the book. After Steve’s visit you had to leave everything “Bucky”. You moved out of the place where you had shared so many important moments with the brunet assassin.

-

‘Bucky! How did you even do that?!’ you whined at the man dress in you apron;pan in one hand and tea towel in the other.

‘I tried to copy you!’, he yelled back, putting the pan and towel down.

‘Well now I have a pancake on my ceiling. Thank you, James’. You pointed above you and giggling.

‘Don’t you “James” me!’ He had picked up a stool and placed it under the dripping mess he had created. He pointed at you playfully when he said it.

-

It had been 5 months since you had last read the book. Your friends would comment on the unhealthy amount of time you spent in your room and with ‘that damn book’ as your friends had kindly put it. They asked you what it was but when you didn’t tell them they let you keep your privacy but told you you were only hurting yourself. That day was the last time you read that book, you kept it in the back of your cupboard and by now you had forgotten about most of it.

‘Y/N!’ your roommate, Jessica, called out for you. It was 6 in the morning and you didn’t need to get up for another hour so just yelled in reply. ‘You have a flower and a note’. With that you and your other roommate, Amber, leaped out of bed and ran down stairs. By the time you reached Jess, she was in the kitchen.

‘Don’t you have work?’ Amber fit in between yawns.

‘Yes, but Y/N has a secret admirer’ Jess passed you the note and you opened the folded piece of paper to read it.

“Hello Y/N,

I just wanted to say you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Never change.”

You couldn’t read it out loud because your lips wouldn’t twist out of the smile it had caused. Amber grabbed it out of you hand and read it out loud. You placed the single red rose to your face and inhaled its scent deeply.

‘It’s so cute!’ she screamed. ‘Any idea who it is?’ you shook your head in reply.

You got another red rose the next day, but no note. Every day for the next week you would get a single red rose with no context, no name, nothing but the knowledge that someone loved you enough to go out of there way to bring you a flower.

‘Come on, Y/N, he’s cute’, It was about two weeks after you got the first flower and they hadn’t stopped coming so you were at a bar with two of your friends. Girls night out. You thought that the reason they took you out was to meet the mystery man leaving but during the night you had caught the eye of an attractive blond from across the room.

‘And so into you’, Jess added to Amber's comment.

‘I don’t know, guys’ you took a sip from your drink and looked over to the man who was staring at you for a moment then you looked away.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Jessica asked

‘If only you knew’ You mumbled into your drink.

‘Is it about that secret admirer?’ you took a long gulp to avoid answering her question. ‘Maybe its him’

‘Well if it is he knew I’d be here. He knew where I live. He knew I loved roses’, you finally answered.

‘Every girl loves roses!’ Jess cried. You mumbled something disputing her comment ‘Just go’, She pushed you into a man behind you. It was he blond guy who had been stealing glances from you all night.

‘Oh, excuse me. Sorry’ you blurted when the man held you up.

‘No need to be sorry. It’s not every day that you get a beautiful woman fall into your arms’ his words made you blush and look away. ‘I’m Derek by the way’

‘Y/N’ you replied.

You and Derek spent the rest of the night talking and drinking and having fun. He told you that his friends dragged him out here and you told at yours did the same. The whole time was spent talking but you didn’t know what you talked about, you just clicked. The bar was closing when he asked for you number, that you gave to him without hesitation.

When you got home your friends needed all the details of the night. They asked if he mentioned anything about being your secret admirer but he hadn’t. He called you 3 days later asking if you wanted to go out for dinner as an official first date.

He picked you up from your front door and lead you to his car that was parked outside your house. You went to a fancy restaurant, it was good you wore this because if it had been any more casual you would have felt underdressed.

‘Can I get anything for you two tonight?’ the waitress asked after you had been looking at the menu for a while.

‘A bottle of your best red wine for the both of us’ Derek answered, looking straight at the women.

‘Actually I prefer-’ you were interrupted by Derek.

‘And some water’. The waitress nodded and walked behind you. You were about to speak when you noticed his eyes follow her path but not at eye level. He was checking out her ass. You decided to ignore what had just happened and continue with the date.

Later you were asked what you wanted to eat and, again, he interrupted you. He told the waitress you wanted a salad, you wanted something completely different, and didn’t even ask you. He proceeded to order himself the most expensive food item on the list.

During the dinner, when you were chewing on these tasteless leaves, he was called three times and answered every single time. If he was your secret admirer you prefer not knowing. At the end of the date he insisted you split the bill 50/50. You were all for equality but he had spent more money than you and he asked you out. Then he got up and walked to his car, expecting you to make your own way home.

On the way home you picked up a slice of pizza from your favourite small pizzeria, telling the staff all about the worst date of your life. They gave you a complimentary cake for your woes and sent you home.

‘How was it?’ Amber asked excitedly

‘Officially. The. Worst. Date. Of. My. Life.’ You kicked off your shoes and slumped down on the couch. ‘But i got free cake so grab three spoons and bring them over.’

‘Are we thinking he’s your secret admirer?’ Jessica said with a mouthful of cake

‘God, I hope not’ you moaned, following suit.

‘Well I guess we’ll find out about it tomorrow morning’ the other two of you nodded and you told them the story of Derek and the worst date ever.

The next morning you ran downstairs as soon as you woke up, hoping for a flower and note from the man you knew nothing about. And you wish was granted. You stood in the doorway, flower in hand, reading this note.

Darling Y/N,

I know last night was one of the worst nights of your life, and you felt uncomfortable walking home alone. But you aren’t alone. One day, someone is going to win your heart and they will be truly worthy of it. Because you are worth the world and so much more.

Love the man who misses you more than he can bare.

The last line broke you. He missed you. And you were sure you missed him too. But you were also sure you had never met him before. The handwriting was familiar to you but you couldn’t think where you had seen it before.

-

‘That’s cheating!’. You moved yourself to block Bucky from the dart board in front of you.

‘I didn’t see any cheating’ he denied after taking his fallen dart out of the floor at trying to throw it at the board again

‘Buck, that’s not fai-’ you began to say when his hands moved to your waist and he lifted you, placing you on the side of him.‘Hey, what are you doing?!’

‘You were in the way for my last shot, doll’, He smile as he winked over at you, throwing his dart and winning the match.

-

Every day, for the past two months, you got a flower and it was just as amazing - just as magical - as it was the first time. There was a vase on your dining table that was always full of roses. People would ask why and you would reply with a simple “I love roses”. Some days you would have a particularly bad day and the next morning you would wake up to a rose and a folded piece of card. Some said “I hope you’re thinking of me as much as I’m thinking of you���, others said “Do something that makes you smile, it’s beautiful” or maybe “I don’t know if you’ve figured this out about you but I’m absolutely crazy about you”. Most were words of encouragement and reading them made you want to continue. The were all signed “Love the man who misses you more than he can bare”.

It made your friends want to find out who he was. So much so they bought a security camera for the front door. When you had installed it and looked at the tape it was turned black for a few seconds and then a rose appeared on your doorstep. You like the anonymity but your friends hated it. They yelled at the camera when it didn’t work, but you just sat back and enjoyed the show.

You were clearing out your cupboard, Amber’s work was doing a charity thing where you gave clothes to them and they gave them to people less fortunate than you. You had a pile of clothes to get rid of and was staring at them, thinking about if you wanted to give them away, when a flash of blue caught your eye from the back of the wardrobe. You didn’t remember buying anything that shade of blue. You turned to walk toward it and pulled out a thick, old, frayed book and all the memories came flooding back.

You sank to the floor, crossing your legs, and opened the book. You remembered that first page, the one with the Acanthus. And under it a small note read “Today Y/N took me to a garden and taught me about plants. This one is in Greek mythology” In the smooth handwriting style of James Buchanan Barnes, the one that got away. The man you missed more than you could bare.

A tear began to fall from your eyes - you were clearly overwhelmed by emotion - when you heard a knock at the door.

‘You got those clothes yet? Amber needs them’ the cool tone of Jessica’s voice wandered through the piece of wood separating you.

‘Umm. Yeah’ you bundled the pile beside you up and put it in a bag you had been handed hours earlier. Bag in hand, you walked to the door. You struggled to open the door slightly so Jessica helped. Amber rushed past her and grabbed the bag, running of to the door she thanked you and stepped out.

The front door opened once more and Amber’s words informed you that there was a note today. The two of you remaining in the house moved to read it.

Darling Y/N,

It has been 63 days since our first meeting like this. I have left 63 flowers, 18 notes, and every last piece of my broken heart at this door and I have one last red rose with your name carved into its very foundation. But this one should be given to you in person.

From the man who misses you more than he can bare, but hopes he doesn’t have to bare it any longer.

The note told you where and when to meet him. You called Amber right away and she was driving into work. She, and Jessica, agreed to go with you to the named coffee shop at the given time the next day, just in case he was some kind of creep.

-

You walked into the coffee shop and immediately looked around for any faces you recognised. Being unsuccessful in your task you walked up to the counter and let the two girls order their drinks.

‘I’d like a regular latte’ you said when it was your turn. The barista picked up a cup from her right and jotted down some letters on it. She then asked for your name. ‘Y/N’

‘Y/N?’ you confirmed it by nodding she put the cup down. ‘Your order has already been paid for’ at this you gave her a confused look. She seemed to miss it and picked up a different cup and handed it to you. ‘But it was a mocha, not a latte’

You took the cup from her hands and took a sip of the steaming liquid. It was good, really good. But what happened next was better.

‘Hello doll’ you hear a familiar voice from behind you. Your brain had put and name and a face to that voice but you knew it couldn’t be real. He was in cryo. To stop the war in your head you put the coffee on the counter and turned. It seemed to happen in slow motion but when you finally faced him you were greeted by those soothing blue eyes you had first seen all those years ago in exactly the same setting.

‘Bucky’ you mumbled as you launched yourself at him, pushing your lips to his as soon as you could. At first it took him by surprise, but he caught you and kissed you back. When you pulled back you could see his right hand behind his back move to reveal a single red rose.

‘Number 64. 64 roses for the woman I missed so much’ he pushed his hand forward to give you the rose that you accepted gratefully.

‘I missed you too, Bucky.’ With the rose still in your hand you put your arms around his neck and brought his forehead to yours. Your noses touched and your breath mingled and in that moment the only two people in the world were you and the your mystery man. Although, one question still haunted you. ‘Why 64?’

‘There are 64 pages in that book’ you knew he referred to the book his best friend had given you.

‘What book?’ Jessica interrupted, breaking you from your trance in Bucky’s eyes.

‘The one you always used to read at night. Oh, my god. You’re the book guy.’ Amber deducted. Her tone was one of surprise and revelation.

‘Yeah’ he said shyly and using his left hand to rub the back of his neck.

‘But why didn’t you just come to the door and meet her? Why did you spend 2 months leaving flowers at her door?’ Amber questioned. You didn’t know until now but you need the answer to that question too.

‘I didn’t want to ruin the life you built. It had been years and I didn’t have the confidence.’ He turned to face you ‘You know who I am now, who I really am, and I was scared. Scared that you hated me.’ his eyes moved from yours and he looked to the floor. With your hand on his cheek, you directed his line of sight back to you.

‘I could never hate you. Steve explained it all, you don’t have to explain anything. Just do one thing for me, Bucky. Just one thing’

‘Yes, doll?’ he smiled sweetly.

‘Stay? This time, please stay?’

‘Forever’ with that he kissed you again, but this time it felt less rushed and more emotional.