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violetnotez · 4 years ago

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HC: The Boys Taste Their S/o’s Chapstick

Anonymous: could I request headcannons for shinso, mirio, denki, sero, and bakugo kissing their s/o and tasting their chapstick ? Or if you want or when they realize their s/o takes care of them in really subtle ways that they didn’t really notice it at first ? i love your blog so much 🥺❤️

Hey babe omg Im so happy you like my blog!!!! Also this ask OMG I have been wanting to write it for so long!!!! Im a sucker for these super cute and fluffy headcanons, so thank you so much for the idea!

Pairings: Shinso x reader, Mirio x reader, Denki x reader, Sero x reader, Bakugo x reader

Warnings: some might get suggestive, but none of these are full blown NSFW! Just a sprinkle of spiciness, thats all!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

S H I N SO U

Flavor: Cherry Vanilla

Your currently trying to get ready for bed with Shinsou, his purple hair cascading against the pillow as he’s scrolling through Insta

defintely looking at cat vids

Youre just BEAT from the day- work, school, practice, whatever your life entails it just felt so incredibly tiring today

Of course, Shinsou seems to have other plans

Once he sees you come out of the bathroom, your hair wet, your skin dewy from washing, your body only wearing one of his oversized shirts and some small shorts....

man is gonna wanna be allllll over you

“Damn, kitten who allowed you to look that hot,” he’d purr, his eyes drinking you in as he propped his body on his elbows to get a better look

You’d roll your eyes, a smile on your lips-

Lowkey a perv for his s/o fight me on this

Once you sit down on the bed, its over

Shinso’s hands are all over you, his palms trailing under your shirt as he leaved lazy kisses on your neck

“Cmon, baby, lets have a little fun before we sleep....”

Just tell him your tired, and he’ll comply, turning super fluffy and cuddly in a matter of minutes

Reluctantly tho this boi is horny when hes horny

“Ahh my kitten’s tired? Fine then, you need your rest.”

He’ll lean in to give a sweet kiss, unknowingly of how flavorful you taste now with your chapstick

And OHOHOHO after that its OVER

The taste of vanilla bursts in his mouth, the scent of cherry becoming more prominent-

When did you start tasting so good?

He honestly wont know how to react- he’ll shake his head and blink a few times, “The hell-?” spilling out of his lips

He grabs you buy the chin, his thumb swiping against your lips gently

Once he sees the faint red sheen on his digit, it kinda dawns on him whats going on

You catch on to his confusion, a small giggle spilling out of you as you tell him its just chapstick you bought since your lips felt dry

He’ll just give you a lazy smirk, his lilac eyes a royal purple as he eyes you

This man cant HELP HIMSELF

He’ll lean in for another kiss, this one lasting much longer and more passionate as he tried to capture that taste again

“Do me a favor and keep wearing that kitten,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

M I R I O

Flavor: Birthday Cake

Im so proud of fidning this picture im sorry it just matches so well

Anywaysssssssss

You had just gotten out of the locker room, your UA uniform a little wrinkled from being balled up while you were training

You walked out the metal doors, your lips feeling much softer than usual- you were in desperate need of chapstick after that particular lesson

Thanks UA for having training grounds that blow up every 5 seconds and spray dust everywhere

But thankfully Neijire is the best person ever and hooked you up with some super cute chapstick

Since it was new and just sitting in her book bag, she just told you to keep it

NEIJIRE WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO SWEET?

You had to admit though, you really liked it- the packaging was pretty cute, it was nice on your skin, but the SMELL

OMG

You felt like a bakery was near you every step you took

And everytime you licked your lips it tasted like sweets, which was an amazing addition

Makes ya wonder how safe it is to consume makeup 👀

Mirio is the cutest boyfirend though-wherever your class is, he waits for you outside and walks with you until you have to go your seperate ways

So, as usual, he’s waiting for you outside the locker room, a wide grin plastered on his face

Once he sees you walk out of the doors, he’s already bounding over, his arms swinging cause hes always just so happy to see you

“Hey sunshine!” he greets you like any other day, his voice just radiating happiness

Some days though, Mirio will kiss the top of your head as he grabs your hand and walks you to his class

Other days, he’s a little more bold, instead leaning down to give you a kiss on your lips as he snakes his hand around your waist

TODAY BABE

IS THAT DAY

You can tell he’s feeling a little more *frisky cause he’s got this mischievous glint in his eyes

ehhhh why not indulge him?

So you get on your tippie toes, leaning in to him and planting a quick kiss on his lips

But thats when Mirio gets confused- did you eat something?Is it cake? CInnamon roll? Cookie? But whatever it is, it tastes GOOD

“Sweetie, did you buy something from the vending machine?” he asks, a confused grin on his face as he eyes you

You laugh, not realizing that Mirio would be affected by your new chapstick too,

“Oh no, its just a chapstick Niejire gave me, I think its cake batter flavored- do you like it?”

Mirio licked his lips , savoring the lingering flavor on his skin

“You batter belive it!”

*cue the groaning

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

D E N K I

Flavor: Pina Colada

So Mina, bless her little music crazed heart, somehow won a pack of tickets from a radio station to a new water park opening up not too far from UA

It was superrrrr expensive to get in, but the music station hooked all you guys up with VIP tickers, a private cabana, food, THE WORKS

You had been running around with the group all day

(except Bakugo- he either went to the lazy river or the surfing simulator thignie cause Kaminari said he would wipe out and wanted to prove him wrong)

Everybody else wanted to do everythingggg, from ride the craziest rides to trying all the food the park had

By the end of the day, you were completely beat and just wanted to rest

Mina was sitting beside you in the cabana (again, thank you radio station for hooking some teens up!), just searching it for snacks the boys hadnt eaten

“Aww cmon, really?! We have chapstick but no food?!”

Your head instantly perked up at the sound- chapstick? God, you could deifnitely use some right now from all that chlorine and sun...

You asked Mina to toss you one, the pink skinned girl throwing you a tube as she grumbled about how “piggy” boys were

You checked the flavor on the tube, the fruits on the side label instantly telling you it was something tropical

As you were putting it on, the boys of Bakusquad were bounding up the steps, their feets covered in sand-

“Guess what?! We got Bakugo to go in the wave pool! Isnt that crazy! It had sand on the bottom, like a real beach-”

Kirishima was just gushing and super excited, Bakugo looking like a pissed off wet cat next to him

You sat up quickly, happy to see your boyfriend, his spiky hair all wet from the day and his boxers dripping

As Kirishima and Sero were messing with an extremely annoyed Bakugo, you went and grabbed the boys some towels, giving the last one to your boyfriend

“Aww thanks babe,” he gushed out, his hands grabbing the towel gingerly as he leaned to kiss you

But wait- you tasted- really sweet?

Kaminari pulled back slightly, a small smirk on his lips, cause damn, that tasted really good

“Did you eat some fruit or something? Cause you taste super yummy babe-”

You pointed to your lips as you told him how Mina found some free chapstick lying around in the cabana

Kaminari just gave you this really blissed out stare as he sneaked one more peck from you- he was kinda wishing his friends weren't here, cause hed totally be making out with you with that yummy stuff on your lips...

“Do me a favor and dont take that stuff off, okay? Until we get back to the dorms,”

He sent you a small wink, weaving behind you inconspicously, and giving your bottom a playful pinch

WHY YOU GOTTA BE A FLIRT KAMINARI

(Also before you left Kamianri most definitely dumped the whole jar of chapsticks into his backpack)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

S E R O

Flavor: Peppermint

You and Sero had just gotten coffee from a little cafe when it starts to rain

Like alottttttttttt

And of course it happens when your right outside, waiting for your ride to take you back home

So you two are just standing there like weirdos with the rain POURING, Sero holding up his jacket over both of your heads

But honestly, it’s not doing much to block out the rain, so honestly-why not have some fun?

You run out of the fabric, instantly feeling your whole body get drenched as you start twirling and laughing

“He-hey wait, babe!”

Sero’s gonna be laughing, and now y’all playing a wierd game of tag

Aghhhhhh so cute tho 🥺🥺

He catches you pretty quickly, his tape grabbing your waist and pulling you to him,,,

You instantly collide with his chest, your cheeks rosy from running around so much and your hands resting on his chest

Sero gives you the biggest grin, his finger under your chin and raising it to look at him

“You know your the biggest tease I know?”

“Yup!”

He laughs, placing a kiss on your lips-and omg why are you minty? and it feels soooo good to him, cause honestly mint isn’t a bad flavor-

“Hey babe whatcha got on your lips? Did you eat-gum or something?”

You just laugh and tell him it’s some chapstick you got (imagine the mint eos U KNOW THE ONE)

He asks if it’s the egg chapstick OML 💀

Yes Sero the egg chapstick

His lips are parted a little, his eyes wider than usual cause he’s lowkey confused on how he liked that so much

But he send you another huge grin before he kisses you again-

“I think your gonna need to wear that more for me, yeah?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

B A K U G O

Flavor: Cinnamon

Bakugo has ben practically forcing you to wake up at ungodly hours with him to train

He says its cause “youre getting weak” but really he’s a total simp for having such close contact with you

Also he’s a little brat and put his all into it so you cant ever beat him, which boosts his ego for some reason?

“Hah, that really the best you got?” he scoffs down at you, his calloused hands pinning you to the ground as his body cages you in for the umpteenth time

Honestly, its hard to fight when your 1) annoyed about loosing and 2) have your hot as hell boyfriend pining you to the ground

But thankfully

THANKFULLY

He was starting to overheat, his breathe coming out in low pants as strands of hair began sticking to his forehead

You felt one of his palms begin to slip ever so slightly near you, and on instinct you knew you had to do something, you finally had an opening-

so you caused a distraction

Your hands quickly flew to the nape of his neck, pressing his head down to your so you could kiss him square on the lips

Bakugo was completely confused in the best way possible- he didnt expect that to happen, but hell, hes not complaining-

until his lips start to tingle

“-the hell?!” he sputters out, his mind trying to figure out what was going on just before you successfuly flip him over, with you now on top

You stared down triumphantly at your boyfriend, not knowing how well that worked- until you noticed how shiny Bakugo lips look

He begins mashing his lips together, trying to rub it off since you had his hands pinned down

“The hell is on my lips? Agh, dont tell me its that weird ass lip stuff that supposed to make your lips bigger or something-’’

Ummmmm how does he know about lip plumping lip gloss? Question for a another day-

“Its chapstick silly,” you giggle, “-cinnamon”

Honestly, he’s gonna like it-this boy likes spicy things and the fact that “spicy” sensation came from his s/o....shoooottttt he is in love

But

Of course

He’s gonna act like it’s wierd or something, cause HES wierd

“Cinnamon? You couldn’t get something normal like cherry or grape?”

You scrunch up your nose, cause yeah your not for those flavors AT ALL, and Bakugo finds his chance

He quickly flips you over, your back now against the floor and his body on top of yours

“Cmon, baka don’t tell me thats seriosuly all you got-“

Don’t remind him that you were able to flip him over tho he’ll turn red and tell you to shut it

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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dracowars · 4 years ago

Note

Hii! So i have seen that your request is currently open! Also that you are kind of new here (i guess? Idrk)! I was wondering if i could request one? The story goes like draco pulls a prank on y/n (any kind really its up to you!) then later on showers her with his love (gift too because we all know he got the ✨ money money ✨ so thats it! (Its very fluffy im sorry) i hope you can do it totally alright if you cant tho!! I hope to see more of your works! God Bless💗

fun and games | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where draco takes pranking y/n too far

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! <3 since this is my first ever request i'm a little bit nervous >.< i really hope that you like it and that it lives up to your expectations! i feel honored that you trusted me with your request even though i'm still pretty new on here ♡

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

You can't remember when it started, you only know that it did and that it slowly starts to annoy the hell out of you. Not because you don't understand fun, you really do, but you can't even spend a quiet minute with your boyfriend Draco anymore since he started acting like Fred and George Weasley, always pulling a prank on you with every possibility he got.

Some of those were actually funny and made you laugh, but at some point it just got too much. Every time you are with him now, you expect something to happen. Whether it is that he calls you to him to show you fantastic beasts that do not exist, making you look like a fool while he laughs, or that he hides two of your belongings somewhere around Hogwarts, telling you that it is actually three objects that you then have to search for like crazy. He even gave you Veritaserum once, just to ask you an endless number of questions which you inevitably had to answer. All of that you already went through. But today was somewhat different.

Draco did not pull a prank on you for weeks now, which you can not complain about at all, in fact you are quite happy about it. After his last prank you asked him to finally stop and it seems like he listened to you. Still, something feels very weird.

You haven't seen Draco today, which is rather unusual for you and your relationship because neither of you can last longer than a few hours without the other. You have just come out of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class and look around the hallway, expecting to spot him somewhere, while your classmates walk past you to head to their break. Usually, Draco always picks you up after class so that you can spend time together until your next course. But you don't see him anywhere today.

At the end of the hallway you spot Fred and George trying to sell one of their newest and greatest inventions to a first-year. You shake your head and roll your eyes. These two are probably responsible that your boyfriend had his prank phase, even though he absolutely despises every Weasley. Of course Draco would never admit it, but you think that he copied a lot from them.

"Leave the poor child alone, Weasley's", you tell them while passing them, not wanting to wait longer for Draco to pick you up. Regrettably you shouldn't have opened your mouth because all of a sudden they apparate in front of you out of nowhere, making you flinch and taking a step back. "What, Y/N? Did I hear you correctly?", George says, wiggling his eyebrows at Fred. "You really want to test our new creation?", Fred adds with a smile.

"No, thank you. I've had enough of pranks lately", you assure them with a forced smile. Obviously offended by your statement, the red haired twins cross their arms over their chest, giving you a disapproving look before vanishing again. Shaking your head, you make your way to your common room, hoping to meet Draco on the way there. Unfortunately, that does not happen and you slowly start to have a bad feeling. Where is he?

Once you arrive in the dungeons, you say the password and enter the common room, which is cosy warm in contrast to the cold corridors outside. After all, it's winter; what else should you expect from the temperature? Several Slytherin's buzz around, sitting at the green fire or studying at the tables. But still, no sign of Draco.

You spot Crabbe and Goyle on one of the sofas, who have their eyes focused on you. As soon as they realize that you look back at them, they burst into giggles and look away as if nothing happened. Their weird behavior lets you frown in confusion. Before you can confront them about it, Pansy suddenly appears right in front of you and thus into your field of vision.

"Y/N! We want to go down to the lake in a few minutes. It's frozen solid for the first time this year! Do you want to join us?", she offers, her outfit already perfectly adapted to the cold temperature outside. "Do you know where Draco is?", you blurt out, not answering to her question at all. "No? Why would I?", Pansy responds irritated.

You loudly breathe out. "Nevermind. Enjoy your trip to the lake", you wish her and give her a small smile, then walk past her and towards your room in the girls' dormitories. You don't miss the look that Crabbe and Goyle give you as well as their giggles when you make your way out of the big room though.

While walking your gaze falls on something laying on the ground and you immediately stop in your tracks abruptly. You bend down and pick it up in amazement, a now much bigger smile forming on your lips. In your delicate hand you're now holding a rose petal. Looking in front of you, you notice more rose petals on the floor. They seem to show you the way to your room.

It must have been Draco, he definetely wants to surprise you after a stressful day, you are sure about that. Quickly and with unbelievable enthusiasm you follow the path to your closed door. You imagine how you will open the door and come into your room, there will be a romantic atmosphere with warm candlelight and Draco will lovingly greet you, hug you and kiss you until-

SPLASH

You have just opened the door when suddenly a huge mass of cold water falls down on you, completely soaking you from head to toe. Because of the shock and the sudden coldness surrounding you, you gasp for air. In front of you, you do not see your desired romantic atmosphere or any candles, but only your laughing boyfriend.

"I got you again!", Draco rejoices and praises himself while you can only watch him in shock. You look down at yourself and lift one of your feet out of the puddle beneath you which you are now standing in. Water drips from your hair and your uniform to the floor. Your boyfriend's cheeky laugh echoes in your ears. Slowly your whole body begins to tremble, although you are not sure wheather it comes from the cold water or from the anger boiling up inside of you.

Assuming that you find the successful prank as funny as he does, he keeps laughing, not noticing your anger yet. "Fred and George did the same prank with Weaselbee the other day, so I had to try it out as well. It worked! Crabbe and Goyle helped me set it up and-"

"I hate you so much!", you scream at him angrily, no longer able to keep your anger under control. Draco's expression falls immediately, obviously not expecting this kind of a reaction. You are still stiffly standing under the door frame, stretching your arms away from your body to somehow escape the extreme cold, water still running down, even under your clothes. "Why do you never know when it's time to stop?! I thought you wanted to surprise me!"

A little taken aback, Draco slowly approaches you while you are busy with wringing out your wet hair. "Don't you dare touch me now, Draco Malfoy!", you command and he obeys your words, stopping a few inches in front of you. "Love, it was just supposed to be fun..", he mumbles dejected, insecurely rocking back and forth on his feet, slowly realizing his mistake.

"Yeah, of course. For you it's always all fun and games until someone dies!", you angrily rebuke him. "I'm completely wet, I'm damned cold, as if it wasn't already cold enough outside, and all I wanted is to spend a relaxing and nice afternoon with my boyfriend who, as always, only got nonsense in his mind and not thinks about his girlfriend's feelings!", you complain, getting rid of your wet cloak while bumping into him with your shoulder as you walk past, throwing it onto your bed. You sit down next to it on the soft mattress and take off your soaking wet shoes as well. For a few minutes there is nothing but silence between you two.

"Y/N..", Draco breaks the silence, but you just shoot him a scathing glance, your lower lip now trembling from the coldness surrounding your body. "I don't want to hear anything, Draco. Really", you scoff and roll your eyes, standing up to finally get out of your uncomfortable clothes. "Can you leave, please? I want to change", you ask him reproachfully, but he doesn't move a single bit.

"I'm responsible for this so let me help you, okay? I'm sorry", he says, sincerity in his sad voice. You can't even answer him as he already pulls out his wand and casts a spell you don't recognize. The puddles on the floor disappear and your clothes are suddenly dry again. All that is left is the unbearable cold around you. Freezing, you draw your cloak tighter around you and give Draco a very small but thankful smile.

He looks at you thoughfully before spreading his arms to invite you into a warm hug, which you gladly accept. Even though you're mad at him, he still manages to make you soften again. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist and he gently strokes your back with one hand in hopes to warm you up at least a little bit, then places a gentle kiss of the top of your head and hugs you even tighter, pulling you closer to his much warmer body. He can clearly feel your body tremble against his. "I'm really sorry, love. I hope you can forgive me for my stupid behavior..", he breathes into your ear, loosening your arms around his waist to take your ice-cold hands in his.

He closely examines your face, searching for any hint of what your answer could be like. No longer able to resist his pleading stare and shimmering gray eyes, you slowly nod to assure him that you will forgive him. Of course you will; you love him way too much to let something this silly destroy your relationship. More than happy with your answer, he cups your cheeks between his hands, his silver ring coldy pressing against your skin, and gives you a loving kiss.

"I will make up for it, I promise", he speaks against your lips after you broke the kiss, his thumb caressing your lower lip softly. "As long as you stop those stupid pranks, idiot", you roll your eyes, still feeling a tiny bit upset about the incident. A little chuckle escapes his lips and he pulls you close against him again. "Let's warm you up first, hm?", Draco whispers and before you know it he has apparated both of you back into the common room. Because everyone left to go to the lake you're now completely alone in the big room.

Without your consent, Draco pulls you onto one of the couches near the fireplace so you can warm up. With the help of a spell, he increases the flame a little more. Out of nowhere he throws you a fluffy, thick blanket and wraps you in it, your body now slowly but surely heating up.

While you're still busy making yourself comfortable, Draco extinguishes all the lights in the room except for a few candles, which dip the quiet room into a soothing light, creating a relaxing atmosphere for you two.

"Are you feeling warmer already? Do you need something else? What about a hot chocolate?", he questions you, still feeling extremly horrible for what he made you go through. "A hot chocolate sounds very nice, actually", you accept his offer, deciding to take advantage of the situation, innocently smiling at him. It does not even take him one single second and he suddenly vanishes into thin air. Shaking your head but smiling to yourself you watch the flame in the fireplace while you wait for him to return.

To your amazement, it takes him a lot longer than you expected and that just for a simple hot chocolate. After about a quarter of an hour he pops up again in front of you all of a sudden, two steaming cups in his hands. He serves you your hot drink with a cheeky smile on his face. "As requested: one perfectly hot chocolate, but not nearly as hot as you", he winks at you before making himself comfortable next to you.

"What took you so long?", you ask and take a sip, skillfully ignoring his statement. "Had to.. run a few more errands, you know. I'm a very busy man", he smirks at you, holding the, in his hands much smaller looking, cup. You look at him in disbelief and then discover a few white spots on his uniform that make you raise your eyebrows in confusion. "It's snowing outside?", you question and point to the snowflakes on his cloak that are slowly melting in the warm room. "Care to explain why you were outside?"

"Uh, well.. I just wanted to please my lovely girlfriend", he explains and takes something out of his pockets. You immediately know what it is and sit up excitedly, but before you can grab it, you pull your hand back. "That's not another one of your pranks, is it?", you pout and look in his eyes for an answer, any sign that this really is just normal candy from Honeydukes and not some experiments he bought from Fred and George.

"Come on, Y/N! They are not poisoned. Eat now or I froze myself to death out there for nothing", Draco assures you and you decide to trust him, carefully opening the candy, revealing the actually normal, delicious sweets that you love so much. Happily eating them you don't even notice at first how Draco keeps staring at you, one of his fingers nervously tapping the rim of his cup.

"Y/N?", Draco finally clears his throat, sitting up straight while you look at him with big expectant eyes. The way he pronounces your name, how the letters roll of his tongue create goosebumps all over your skin, causing you to cuddle up more into the cozy blanket, waiting for him to continue. His gaze wanders back and forth between you and his warm drink, of which he has not drunk very much yet.

He opens his mouth to say something again but notices the goosebumps on your arm, the alarm bells in his head loudly going off immediately. "Are you still cold? Wait a second!", Draco tells you, without waiting for an answer, and jumps up, running to his prefect room and coming back a few seconds later to give you one of his green Slytherin sweaters. "Here. Put it on, it will warm you up", he commands and examines you carefully as you pull it over your head, the pleasant scent of his perfume clouding your senses instantly.

Your cheeks turn a little bit red, on the one hand because of the extreme warmth that now surrounds you and on the other hand because Draco gives you such a sweet and tender look, as if you are the most beautiful and precious being in this world; which, in fact, you definetely are to him. He moves closer to you and puts his arm around your shoulders so that you can lean against his chest and snuggle up to him. Draco gently runs his fingers over your hair, over your cheeks and to your chin, which he slightly lifts up, making you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for a while, you just look each other deep in the eyes. Draco brushes one strand of hair behind your ear that fell into your face and slowly leans in. You close your eyes, waiting for him to connect your lips, but he teasingly stops shortly before, his breath fanning against your skin. "I have something for you.. as an apology", he gently whispers and you open your eyes in surprise. "You don't have to give me anything, Draco. I've already forgiven you, you know that", you smile at him, cupping one of his cheeks which makes him smile.

He takes your hand in his and squeezes it lightly, kisses your knuckles and then shakes his head with a sigh. "I know. Still, I feel bad and want to give you something. Something very meaningful and significant", he declares, reaching into his pocket once again. Eventually, his secrecy makes you kind of curious anyway and you look at his hand eagerly, waiting to see what the gift will be.

Draco pulls out a small black box covered in velvet. Your curious gaze focuses on the box, which contents are still unknown to you until he finally opens it and reveals a beautiful, gold shimmering and, above all, quite expensive looking necklace. Small moons and stars hang on it, but the real focus of the indescribably lovely piece of jewelry is in the middle. The bigger splendid pendant attached to it is none other than his name, Draco, written in an artistic curved font. Overwhelmed, your mouth drops open.

"Actually, I wanted to give it to you for our anniversary this year, as a thanks for sticking around with me for so long, no matter how stupid and silly and annoying I was. Somehow it just felt like the right moment to give it to you now", Draco explains in a calm voice, no sight of the silly boy from a few hours ago, and takes the necklace out of its box, gesturing that you should turn around so he can carefully place it around your neck. He leaves a few butterfly kisses along your neck before you turn around to him again, immediately touching the pendant with your fingertips, slightly pressing it against your soft skin.

"I thought I would give you my first name as long as I can't give you my last", Draco smiles timidly, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye as you pull him into a tight embrace. "D-Draco.. I don't know what to say.. I love you so much", you sob into his neck, placing a kiss right there. His arms wrap around you and he breathes out contentedly and somewhat relieved. "I was afraid that you would reject me..", he whispers nearly inaudible, more to himself than to you.

"I would never even think about rejecting you! But do you really promise that you will make it come true, Draco? That you will give me the honor to receive your last name?", you ask seriously, retreating a bit so you are able to look at his handsome face. A smile creeps its way onto his lips at your so serious but also hopeful facial expression. "I don't want anything more in my life than that, darling", Draco clarifies honestly and then takes the pendant with his name on it between his thumb and index finger. "This is a promise", he repeats softly and gives you a quick but loving kiss.

Despite the short kiss, you feel a pleasant warmth inside of you and the butterflies flutter around in your stomach. You put your hands around his neck and can't help but grin brightly, trying to hide it by biting down on your lower lip. Immediately, Draco's thumb comes up to your lip and stops you from doing so, looking back and forth between your shiny eyes and plump lips.

The next kiss you share is so passionate and with so much love that you forget everything around you in a matter of seconds, fading out your surroundings. Now, there is only you and Draco. And a promise that you hold close to your heart.

#draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco x female reader #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #hp imagine #hp imagines

879 notes · View notes

jay4firefic · 3 years ago

Note

so i know you’re probably not gonna check this soon but i just found out i didn’t get accepted in med school and im a little sad so if you could write some kelly x buck fluff i’d really appreciate it shdhhfs

Anon I am so sorry, I can't even imagine how much that must suck. I hope this bit of Buck and Kelly's first Christmas from Grow As We Go, the next installment of Chicago: 9-1-1, helps distract you for a little while. (also, I don't know if you're a dog person, but just in case I've included a picture of my brand new puppy Donut at the end)

The smell of bacon and coffee finally pull Buck out of a deep, dreamless sleep, hours later than he usually wakes up. Not that it’s possible to tell time from the muted gray light filtering through the floor to ceiling windows, dulled by heavy clouds and fat, perfect snowflakes that stick against the glass before melting. For once the stupidly huge converted warehouse is warm enough that Buck doesn’t shiver when he stretches and throws back the down comforter, though he still pulls a pair of wool socks from the bedside drawer - put there just for him, when Kelly got sick of hearing him whine about having cold feet - and slips his feet into them before daring to step on the always-freezing concrete floor.

The clock beside the bed catches Buck’s attention. It’s ten, the latest he’s slept in months. Ten in the morning on December 25th, in a warm apartment, with the smell of bacon and the hum of soft music drifting in from the next room, and Buck realizes suddenly that this is the first time he hasn’t woken up alone on Christmas since - maybe since Maddie stopped coming home for the holidays nearly a decade ago. He’s distantly aware that he should probably be sad about that fact. A normal person would be sad about that, right? But mostly Buck just feels warm, and sleepy, and hungry enough that he finally levers himself out of bed and pulls on a faded CFD sweatshirt of unknown provenance.

As soon as he opens the bedroom door, Kelly looks up from the stove and smiles over his shoulder. His hair - longer now, at Buck’s request - is still ruffled from sleep, and he’s either brave or stupid enough to be cooking bacon shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that pool around his feet in a telltale sign they actually belong to Buck. Kelly nods toward the full coffee pot where it sits beside a steaming waffle iron before turning back to the stove, but Buck bypasses it in favor of sidling up to Kelly and sliding his arms around him from behind.

“Thought I dreamed you,” Buck says, his voice still sleep-rough. He nuzzles the side of Kelly’s neck, smiles into the kiss he presses there when the faintest shiver ripples through the other man, then hooks his chin over Kelly’s shoulder and peers down at the stove.

“Do you dream of me often?” Kelly asks as he reaches out to pull a waffle from the iron and pour another cup of batter into it.

Buck is glad that Kelly can’t see his flush staining his cheeks in this position, because the answer is a resounding yes, but the dreams don’t usually involve Kelly waking him up and half-carrying him to bed solely for the purpose of sleeping like he did last night. “No comment. Don’t burn the bacon.”

Kelly laughs but lets it go, letting himself be pulled into the rhythm of a now familiar argument. “I like it burned.”

“You only like it burned because you can’t cook it any other way.” Buck waits until Kelly is distracted by the waffle maker again to steal the tongs off of the counter beside the stove and reach around him to grab half the bacon out of the pan while it’s still perfectly crispy and uncharred. In response Kelly grumbles and takes the tongs back before shrugging Buck off and shooing him away.

“Stop complaining and eat your waffles.”

So Buck does, filling two oversized mugs of coffee - black, two sugars for Kelly, an endless pour of sugar for himself to make it thick and sweet - before snagging a stack of waffles from beneath the dish towel keeping them warm. There’s already syrup and butter and a can of whipped cream sitting on the bar in front of Buck’s favorite stool, the one that sits right over a heating vent so that he can hook his feet around its legs and warm his frozen toes. Even with no time to plan Kelly has thought of everything. And unlike the rest of his mediocre-if-edible cooking, the waffles are fluffy and amazing like always.

Buck groans around the first bite, then demolishes the rest of his plate without another sound except the scrape of utensils. He only looks up when Kelly slides another waffle onto his plate and settles onto the stool next to him, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush and their elbows bump as he cuts into his own breakfast.

“Merry Christmas,” Kelly mumbles like an afterthought around a mouthful of bacon.

“Merry Christmas,” Buck echoes. He looks down at the remains of his breakfast, then at the man beside him - the man who offered him a place to stay and then drove home in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm, without being asked, to make sure he was alright. Who made him coffee and cooked his favorite breakfast and turned the heat up too high just to keep Buck warm and-- Buck swallows the lump in his throat that feels like I love you and instead says, “This might be the best Christmas ever.”

But maybe that was the wrong thing to say, too, because Kelly pauses with his coffee halfway to his mouth and looks at him with furrowed brows. “Ev, your apartment flooded and you spent half the night passed out on my floor after trying to salvage your books.”

“Yeah.” Buck shrugs one shoulder, glances over it to see that his books are still scattered on the floor like a constellation around the humming space heater. Kelly must have left it on despite turning on the vents. He looks back at Kelly with a smile. “But I had Christmas dinner with the Herrmanns before it did, and I knew I had somewhere to go even before I asked you, and you made my favorite food. You know what my favorite food is. I’ve...never had that before.”

A shadow passes over Kelly’s face, there and gone before Buck can decipher it, and he leans in for a sticky, syrup flavored kiss. When they break apart Kelly briefly rests their foreheads together and Buck goes cross-eyed looking at his soft smile. “You always have a place to go now, okay? You never have to ask, and you can stay as long as you want.”

#chicago fire fanfiction #911 fanfiction #evan 'buck' buckley #kelly severide #buck x kelly severide #chicago: 911 #my fic #asks and answers #featuring donut

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sixtyeightdays · 4 years ago

Text

The Queen

She is not playing dolls. She is stalking the halls; living off thrill of the kill. Marinette can smell fear.

this mini speech drabble is inspired by HBIC by @unmaskedagain and The Pigtails Are Off by @para-dox-normal

WARNING: MILD VIOLENCE , SLIGHTLY GRAPHIC

Marinette left the class, after depositing ribbons into the hands of a few of her classmates.

Alya turned to face Nino, whose hat was still drawn down, covering the upper part of his face.

‘What was that all about?’ She demanded. Nino sunk lower into his seat, casting a look towards Chloe, who huffed and stood up.

‘You all made a huge enemy today,’ she began.

Alix scoffed. ‘We’ve dealt with you a lot, we aren’t scared of you.’

This time, Sabrina spoke up, which clearly shocked the rest of the class who thought she was a spineless servant of Chloe’s.

There was a glint in her green eyes that wasn’t there earlier, making a shiver run down the class’ spines.

‘Oh, who said anything about Chloe?’

Now it was Juleka who spoke up, looking away from Rose who was grasping at her arm for answers.

‘You have no idea what kind of protection you just threw away.’

Ivan, fed up, slammed his fist into the table. ‘What the HELL are you guys even talking about?’

Nino looked up and smirked, which shocked Alya and made her take a step back, after noticing the sinister glint in his eyes.

‘You all are... new here. You don’t know how the Queen works.’

Kim stood up from his desk proudly, puffing his chest out. ‘I’ve been in this class one of the longest! 3 years!’

Nathaniel looked to him like he was stupid before shaking his head.

‘No. We have. I’ve been here 6 years, Chloe 5, Sabrina, 6, Juleka 5 and Marinette? 8.’

Juleka, Nino, Chloe and Sabina all spoke up in an oddly monotonous voice, walking towards the front of the class.

‘She is not playing dolls. She is stalking the halls; living off thrill of the kill. Marinette can smell fear.’

The class broke out into laughter. ‘Marinette? What can she do?’ Alya wiped a tear from her eye.

The others stared at her coolly and waited for them to stop laughing. Chloe stepped forwards and smiled.

The class was taken aback.

‘I don’t like any of you, so let me make this clear. Watch your back when you get to school tomorrow. Like Juleka said, you have no idea what kind of protection you just threw away. Marinette has been protecting you guys for ages, since the first minute you stepped into this school.’

‘Just because we don’t like you, doesn’t mean we’re evil enough to leave you..without a warning.’ Juleka smiled, cold flashing over her features.

‘I may be dumb, stupid, even. But I’m not that dumb to get on the wrong side of the Queen.’ Sabrina laughed.

Nathaniel made his way to the front before stepping next to Nino and in unison, they said;

‘Good luck. You’re going to need it.’

When Marinette reached home, she immediately shrugged off her regular grey jacket before digging into the closet to the item she had left behind for 3 years.

She reached to the black box sitting innocently at the back of her closet and pulled it out.

She opened it and unfolded the outfit that was inside, looking at it with a evil smile on her face.

Inside, there was black combat boots with silver studs, a black leather jacket with light pink and grey highlights and dark blue ripped jeans.

Marinette grabbed the clothes out and spent the night altering her old clothes, making it bigger and adding a small pocket in her jacket for Tikki to comfortably sit in.

The kwami knew of Marinette’s past of course, it was one of the first things the bluenette had confessed to the kwami about. Tikki was supportive of the old Marinette surfacing again. She was irritated by the way her class treatedher chosen, and wanted it to be over once and for all.

That hatchet was long forgotten, although the way Marinette ruled the school went unnoticed by the imbeciles in her class.

Marinette was--still is-- the Queen of her school. When she arrived in the beginning, she was not to be taken lightly and she earned her place at the top of the food chain.

There had aways been some sort of invisible barrier between the other students and Mlle. Bustier’s class. No one could get in, mainly due to Marinette’s influence.

Everyone in the school apart form that class knew about the Queen who sat in the sidelines. Marinette had some sort of protection over that class and if anything happened to them, you’d had to answer to her.

This made many of the students stay away, although they still made friends with the class.

The next morning, Marinette was early. Surprising, I know. But she knew her class always sat together in the courtyard until everyone arrived, and 15 minutes before school started, they would head up to the classroom.

If anything, Marinette felt rather relieved at not having to hide her status anymore. Word had spread, and there was whispering everywhere, glances at Mlle. Bustier’s table, who didn’t notice.

Alya heard many people whispering around her.

‘I must say, I’ll be happy to see the Queen in action again. It was a golden era.’

‘I know right! I feel sorry for the poor people who invoked the wrath of the Queen though.’

The doors slammed open, ad a tall shadowy figure strutted in as if she owned the place. Lila regarded her carefully.

Once the shadowy figure took enough steps forward, she stopped. Light illuminating her features to reveal Marinette.

Gone was the happy go lucky expression on her face, replaced with a steely determination with no trace of her usual smile.

Her hair, free from her signature pigtails, flowed freely down her back, wild, as if she just came back from the club with her boyfriend.

She wore her leather jacket and ripped jeans. She wasn’t even wearing a shirt, opting for a black sports bra. She zipped her jacket up till the bottom of her bra, before letting the sleeves of the jacket fall back on her shoulders.

She was wearing black pumps, almost 6 inches tall, which made the class’ jaws drop. Clumsy Marinette wearing heels? That almost spelled disaster.

The class could’ve sworn the temperature dropped as soon as she looked in their direction. A cold smile graced her lips, which were stained a blood red.

She lifted her right arm slowly, all the while still smirking at the class.

Everyone in the courtyard slowly raised their wrists, Nino and the others included. With sick dread pooling in their stomachs, the class noted with fear that everybody except them were wearing a red hair ribbon on their wrists.

They never took it off. Kim remembered asking Ondine why she wore it, even while swimming. She had looked to him before changing the subject hastily.

Alix recalled her brother, Jali, wearing one on his wrist, before Alix had gone to school at Francois Dupont.

Marinette walked slowly towards their class, swaying her hips with the aura of cool confidence surrounding her. Lila stuck out her foot to trip Marinette, who noticed and gave Lila a smile, before stepping directly on Lila’s toes, crushing it with her heel.

Marinette grinded her heel into Lila’s foot, and she could barely keep herself from yelling. Soon, she did and the class turned on Marinette, screaming profanities at her.

Lila’s toes were now bent in ways that shouldn’t have been possible, a sickening purple color. Surprisingly, no blood was exiting the toes, and Marinette internally rolled her eyes at how careless the class thought she was.

She whispered to Lila, although the whole courtyard heard.

‘You wanna fake an injury, Lila? I’ll give you an injury.’

Alya snarled and tried to slap Marinette.

‘What is wrong with you, you bitch!’ Her hand swung out, intending to meet Marinette’s face. And though no one blinked, Marinette’s hand caught Alya’s. Her fingers wrapped around Alya’s wrist almost seductively, before she smiled.

The smile reminded of the class of the old times, when Marinette used to have fun with the class, laughing her heart out when Kim snorted milk out of his nose.

That was how the class knew Marinette enjoyed breaking Alya’s wrist.

The bluenette squeezed Alya’s wrist with surprising strength, causing Alya to let go of the phone clenched in her hand, letting it fall to the floor, where Alya’s wallpaper glowed for a soft moment, showing Alya, with an arm wrapped around Marinette, before the bluenette stepped on the phone like she did with Lila, causing the screen to shatter and Alya to call out in anguish.

That call turned into a scream as the class watched Marinette mercilessly twist Alya’s wrist, breaking it with one resonating snap.

Marinette let go and watched amusedly as Alya flailed around, grasping her broken wrist in her fine one.

Marinette watched it all with a smile on her face, an exact replica of the happy, warm smile she gave when she hung out with her friends.

The class looked around and realised that none of the students around them looked the least bit shocked when the situation was occurring.

Adrien let out a quick breath. This was what Chloe meant by Queen.

And as Marinette turned to fix her cold eyes on the class, they knew they was done for.

Sabrina watched from afar with Chloe, smiling sickeningly as everyone in the class took their turn to get something of theirs broken.

Marinette saved Adrien for last. He smiled charmingly at Marinette, inching backwards, trying to use the fact that she had a crush on him in his favor. As Marinette paused, he exhaled quickly, thinking it was over.

Marinette took a step back. If she were to hurt Adrien, his father would most certainly murder her and Marinette wasn’t willing to waste more time on the blonde model than she already had.

Until Adrien called out.

‘Mari this isn’t you! Come bACK TO US!’

The courtyard swiveled their heads to look at the boy and no one flinched as her heel found his stomach.

There was a smile on Marinette’s face even after Adrien lost consciousness.

its kind of a bad ending but i couldnt think of how to end it with and im sorry bc its kind of violent but i think this is okay for now

#marinette #HBIC #not my idea #okay its not mine

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talkfastromance4 · 5 years ago

Text

Crushed&Caffeinated-- Ashton Irwin

Not requested. Had a shit day. Had too much coffee and this happened. Ashton brings out the angst in me. This turned out longer than I expected, I was just letting off some steam but tell me what you think.

P.S I know the basis of this concept is weird but this was my day today soo...yeah

Word Count: 1558

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright is listed below*

• • • •

Horrible days just seem to be a norm for you lately. You’d made multiple errors at work, and felt the cold, hard stares from a co-worker because of the mess you’d made. It’s not like you didn’t fix it, but you still felt the guilt eat away at you. And when the guilt eats away at you, it doesn’t leave any room for you to eat actual food for sustenance.

You blamed your bad misfortune on the fact that it’s a Monday, that your period is coming soon, that there was just a full moon and has left you all out of whack. The more you thought about it, the more it made your stomach turn so you just poured yourself another cup of coffee.

Coffee became the main meal for you for the rest of the day. Not only were you worked up about the error you made at work, but now your body was buzzing with caffeine. It made your mind race a thousand miles a minute, it left you fuzzy.

By the time you came home--expectant of cuddles from your boyfriend and maybe a hot bubble bath with Ashton massaging your shoulders--your whole body was buzzing. Your hands had a slight shake to them as you unlocked the door, excited to see him on the other side. You came home at the same time every day and at that same time he’d be waiting for you. It always made you smile because it reminded you of a puppy, and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip in an entirely different way.

When you opened the door, Ashton isn’t there. With shoulders slumping you continue your way in, calling for him as if he just forgot the time but the house is empty, much like your stomach. With a racing heart, you head to the kitchen and start the coffee machine. Caffeine has been your only friend today; it’s kept you going even when you wanted to stop.

By the time he gets home, your first cup almost gone, Ashton shuffles in through the door, his voice loud and excited but it only hurts your ears. You swallow down the last of your coffee and the trembling in your hands stop.

“Hey angel, sorry I’m late. I picked up some food and it took longer than usual,” he smiles setting a brown paper bag onto the counter.

The smell of teriyaki and fried rice fills your nostrils. On a normal day it would have made your mouth water, but today is not a normal day and it made your stomach reel instead.

“Not hungry,” you mutter and move to the coffee pot to pour another cup. It’s as if your brain is on a racetrack, it’s moving in a constant circle, faster and faster. You’re more than buzzing, you’re. . . a humming and whirring machine about to overheat and explode. You’re a ticking time bomb and Ashton knows it.

“How many cups have you had today?” he asks gently, his fingers moving to grab the mug from you. You swat him away.

“Dunno, lost count in the afternoon.”

“Have you eaten?” he asks as you open the sugar packet. He notices the way your fingers are shaking as you pour it in your cup.

“Not much,” you mumble.

“Y/N,” he stresses your name, he uses the tone that would normally make your thighs quiver. His large hand covers yours, stopping your motions of pouring the sugar in. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“Y/N,” he stresses again, using his other hand to grab hold of your jaw. You fight him for a moment but he’s too strong and he forces you to look at him, but you avert your gaze. He grunts in agitation and shakes your head just roughly enough so you’re forced to look into his hazel eyes. “Your pupils are huge, you haven’t eaten anything, have you?”

Your answer is by looking down in shame, but your heart is hammering against your chest, the racetrack in your head is getting louder and louder and you need to quiet the buzz. He knows you use caffeine as a scapegoat, as if it would chase away the feeling you were trying to run away from.

“What happened?” he asks, he loosens his hold on your jaw and the steam from your coffee is making your palm sweat. His hand still covering yours over the mug.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

He sighs heavily, hazel eyes searching yours. “Okay. C’mon.”

He releases his holds on you and starts to walk away. You use this as your chance to finish stirring in your creamer and then you’re flung over Ashton’s shoulders. His hands are strong on the backs of your thighs and you’re smacking his butt and back with your fists, demanding to be put down.

He only sets you down when you’re in his music room and you’re right next to his drum kit. He hands you his sticks. You look at the small pieces of wood in your hands then back up at him.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You don’t want to talk about it, so let it out this way. I’m getting you a gallon of water and some rice because you need to get out of this buzz.”

Then he’s left the room and you fall onto his stool. Your fingers squeeze the drumsticks as you stare at his instrument, he never lets anyone play them. Even for you it’s rare, but when you do it’s only when he’s trying to teach you to play.

The way he plays makes it look like a dance. How his movements are so controlled yet so freeing blows your mind. You love how passionate he is, the passion evident in his face and the force he hits the song in, it’s mesmerizing.

“I’m not hearing anything,” he says, pulling you quickly from your thoughts. He strides over to you, grabs your hands, and makes you hit random drums. “Go! Hit! Let out whatever it is I know you’re bottling up.”

And just like that, it’s as if his own shouts finally flipped the switch that you shut off hours before. You grip the drumsticks a bit harder and pound away. You’re sure you aren’t hitting with a rhythm but the louder it gets and the harder you hit, you feel it in your bones. The horrible day is rippling out of you, you’re hitting it with force and intent and to stop the constant buzzing in your head.

Ashton is egging you on, he even smacks the cymbals a few times as you let loose. Hot tears sting your eyes, when it blurs your vision and you can’t see what you’re hitting anymore, that’s when you stop. Chest heaving, tears falling, you let the sticks clatter to the floor and Ashton wraps you in his arms letting you cry the rest of your anger out.

“Can you drink some of this for me?” he asks kissing the top of your head.

You jerk your head away from his chest to see him holding up one of his large water bottles. You can see the condensation on the plastic, ice cold water will feel good. With a shaking hand, you guide the bottle to your mouth and suck on the straw. In response to the freshness of the cold water, your eyes close as you feel the liquid travel through your body. It’s cooling you from the inside out, you can practically feel it flush out your system.

“Okay, okay, not too much. I don’t want you to get sick,” he pulls the bottle away and some water slips over your chin. He’s quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He kisses your head again, and then once more. “Eat some rice with me.”

After you shared a carton of rice with him, he gave you some more water then rubbed your back. He cradles your cheeks in his hands inspecting your eyes again.

“There you are,” he smiles lightly, “how about we take a cool shower and finish the food?”

“Okay,” you whisper. He gives you a featherlight kiss, but his love holds so much more weight in it.

“Okay,” he smiles. He helps you up leading you into the master bathroom.

You snatch up the clothes you both sleep in setting them on the sink. He undresses you carefully, making sure to hold your hand as you step under the lukewarm water. It washes away your stress and worry, and just when you feel like you’re about to crumble again, Ashton’s strong arms are around you.

“Thank you,” you tell him kissing the center of his chest. You get a small taste of him from the water on your lips, so you kiss him a few more times.

“One of these days your caffeine high is going to make you run away from me.”

You tilt your head up, the water falling along your face as you look at him. His face is smooth, but his eyes are filled with worry, his dimple shadowed in his frown.

“That will never happen,” you shake your head stretching up on your toes to get a proper taste of his lips.

His kisses are sweeter than any cup of coffee.

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @thesubtweeter @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @allier59 @calumhoodaf @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05

#ashton irwin oneshot #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin angst #ashton angst #ashton 5sos #ashton writing #5sos writing #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin writing

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crewhonk · 5 years ago

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Only Happy Accidents (11)

YN is determined, on God, to let Steve have his day and not make it about herself for once.

Warnings: YN is dumb and in early labour, little smutty moment, Nat Knows Everything. y'all have had a fluffy lil series, but I'm about to angst it up and im not sorry

Only Happy Accidents (master list)

Songs: High As Hope Album— Florence and the Machine

_______________________

July 3rd, Steve’s Birthday Party, Three Weeks and Three Days until due date, 9:15 AM

“You know. This view is something else.” YN piped up from the balcony of Steve’s old room at the tower. The room was massive and clean. The balcony was YN’s favourite besides the king bed, as it overlooked the treelike and training grounds that YN could watch the new recruits do morning laps or stretch out in the sun. “It’s nice to get out of the city for once.”

He hummed and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso and swaying with her, hands on her swollen belly. She was wearing the prettiest little number he’d seen her wear since her wedding dress, and god, he’d married the most beautiful woman in the world. All of the worlds, probably. It was a simple white sundress that plunged between her boobs and stopped at the top of her stomach. A thin white piece of fabric cinched at the waist allowed for the dress to flare over her stomach and ass, and Steve really, really didn’t want to leave this room.

It was odd being back here— a stranger to his past life. The too clean surfaces of the room and bare walls which had never been cluttered with pictures haunted him and reminded of a person who he didn’t like. He liked the person he was now, though. Kind, sentimental, husband, almost-baby-daddy.

It was odd being here, but Dr. Cho and Natasha insisted— they both wanted YN to be close to the delivery room and medical office in case something happened, and Steve, for once, encouraged Natasha’s overprotectiveness.

“Have I told you I love you today, Wife?” He mumbled, lips teasing the bare skin of her neck. Her hair was tied into a bandana and off of her neck, and he loved the access it gave him. Maybe his favourite part of her was, in fact, the back of her neck.

“A few times, but I could be reminded, Husband.” YN snorted, liking the way the word tasted on her tongue and how Steve held her closer when she said it. He felt her stomach move under his hands and a thrill like no other filled him from his toes to his nose.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder. “I love you,” kissing her neck. “I love you,” kissing her jaw and cheek and finally, turning her head to face him, kissed her lips ad smiled. “I love you.”

YN smiled and kissed him back, stepping away quickly and backing away from him and into the bathroom. “I know.”

___________________________

12:07 PM

Natasha prided herself on being observant. She knew Bucky was hiding something from her— not normal for him, but she trusted him enough to know that he would tell her when he was ready. She knew that Sam had been the one eating her snacks she specifically labelled. She knew Cho was seeing someone inside the compound. She knew things, and it was her favourite quality.

So when YN walked in with Steve’s hand wrapped in her own, Natasha knew today was the day.

It had taken a few strategic words on her part to get Steve to leave his wife’s side, but when he finally succumbed and moped off to find Sam and Bucky, Natasha followed YN to the snack table set up for the guests about to arrive for Steve’s birthday party and waited.

“YN.” She said, and YN shook her head, shoving three finger sandwiches in her mouth and gathering a handful of cherry tomatoes.

“YN.” She tried again and YN swallowed her food, eating a lemon square, and upon debating it, ate another. She looked at Natasha who was staring her down and YN raised on finger. ‘wait’.

So, Natasha waited, eyeing YN’s stomach nervously. It was lower today than any other day she’d seen it— YN had always carried the baby high, but today it looked to be a completely different bump. Steve was sure to be aware, but since the due date wasn’t for another three weeks probably convinced himself that it was the dress YN was wearing that made her appear different. Steve was never someone who made assumptions about things this big.

YN finished the cherry tomatoes in her hand and gulped down some punch, ate the slice of fruit she’d picked up and turned to Natasha.

“I’m not allowed to eat in the delivery room, and I’ve been having light contractions since 8 AM this morning.” YN said simply and Natasha’s jaw dropped. Her hands immediately fell to YN’s stomach and somehow the skin and muscle even felt different.

“You’ve been having contractions?” And upon YN shushing her loudly, dropped her voice. “And Steve doesn’t know?”

“I told him that she’s sitting on my bladder and I’ve been going to the bathroom and leaving the room often so I can carry out the worst ones.” YN said, looking at her husband who was laughing loudly with his friends. God, his world was about to be shifted upside down.

“How far apart are they?” Natasha asked, and YN looked at her phone, nodding. One minute to go.

“I’m about to have another one in a minute if they’re regular, but right now they’re all at eighteen minutes give or take.” YN said, grabbing Nat’s hand and pulling her from the room. She walked quickly down a few turns and leaned against the wall, rocking from side to side and looking as if she was concentrating very hard on a spot on the other wall.

“What can I do?” Nat said hurriedly.

“Keep watch. I’m not letting this ruin Steve’s birthday party.” YN snarled through her teeth. They weren’t bad— just really bad period cramps, but they still sucked.

“YN. You are in early labour, we need to tell him.” Natasha hissed and YN straightened up, leaning the back of her head against the wall and catching her breath.

“No. These past few months have been about me, and I just want Steve to be the centre of attention for once. He deserves it. Plus, I only started having contractions at eight this morning, audit’s noon now— I still have a minimum of four hours before real labour starts.” YN tried to reason and Natasha shook her head.

“Can we at least go see doctor Cho?” Nat pleaded and YN, after searching her expression for any way out, nodded.

“Fine.”

____________________________

1:00 PM

“So, you are in early labour, but you’re only about two centimetres dilated, but I’m not going to keep you here since you’re not in active labour.” Cho beamed, having grown attached to both Steve and YN throughout this process. She’d been a huge part of this journey, and felt as if she and YN had become some odd form of friends.

“Told you.” YN joked at Nat as she helped the pregnant lady out of the stirrups and onto her feet. YN slipped on her slipper-flats and bowed her head as a smaller contraction made her belly tense.

“Hey, I’m this kids aunt, so I’m going to make sure they’re safe.” Natasha rolled her eyes and smiled, nodding towards Cho who looked thoughtful.

“What do you think the baby is going to be?” Cho wondered. “I have my guesses but It’s not my place to say.”

Natasha looked at YN, then, and down to her belly. A small, pale hand rested on the swell and Natahsa cocked her head.

“Healthy, I hope.”

____________________________

3:16 PM

The party was swinging, by now. The music filled the common room as Avengers from around the world and galaxy filled the room to celebrate Steve Rogers. YN smiled politely as Carol Danvers looked fondly down at you, shaking your hand.

“He’s a lucky guy, that Steve Rogers.” Her voice was low and silky and if it was Halloween again, maybe, just maybe, YN would have flirted back.

“I think I’m the lucky one, honestly.” YN blushed and Carol smiled brightly. The conversation was that of small talk and not much else, but YN did feel as if she was the only person that mattered when Carol spoke— a quality of Carols that YN quite admired. Eventually, Carol was beckoned by Nick Fury, who had chosen a casual pair of sunglasses over his usual eye patch.

YN could feel pairs of eyes on her the whole time she wandered around the room, and found that Wanda Maximoff, Pepper Potts, as well as Natasha and Carol all seemed to be in the know about what was happening. Wanda, likely because she was in YN’s mind, Pepper, because she’d gone through the same thing (and been just as stubborn), and Carol, because maybe, just maybe, YN was being less subtle than she thought.

The contractions had since lost their regularity— coming at intervals from anywhere between five minutes and half an hour. It was disheartening, frankly, but seeing the was Steve seemed to be glowing was bearable. YN was leaning against the counter, just watching him from across the room and nursing another finger sandwich and water when he looked over. Peter Quill and Thor were both chatting with Steve, but when Steve caught her eyes, he excused himself politely and wandered over to her. He walked up slowly, and leaned against her lightly, kissing her soundly and making her toes curl.

“You’re pretty.” He murmured, dopey smile on his face. YN snorted, and cupped his cheeks gently, kissing him again and brushing the tip of her nose against his.

“You excited?” YN asked nervously, and Steve grinned widely cupping the sides of her belly.

“I just want to meet him now—“

“Her.”

“It’s going to be a boy I know it.”

“I’m sure she wants to meet you just as bad.” YN smiled, and as she felt another cramp tighten in her stomach, kissed the breath out of Steve Rogers to distract herself.

____________________________

7:07PM

The dinner plates had been cleared, and the party had settled into the couches— only a few remained. Those with children or living off-planet needed to go, so now, only a small group remained. YN ignored the stares of Wanda, Pepper and Natasha as she curled up into Steve’s side, rubbing her belly every time a contraction made itself known. She glanced at her phone again and noted the time— they were getting more regular now— an easy 16 minutes and they were also at a consistent pain level which was manageable but still uncomfortable.

“You okay?” Steve whispered into YN’s temple and she nodded, settling against him as the contraction subsided. He kissed the crown of her head and rubbed her shoulder which was hidden under her brown leather jacket.

“I’m wonderful.” YN returned and she wrapped her arm around his middle, throwing her legs over his thigh and sighing.

“You waiting for something?” Steve asked, looking down at her phone, and she played it off, shrugging.

“You caught me, I have a mistress. She’s getting a private jet and we’re running away together.” YN grinned and Steve made a sound in the back of his throat— somewhere between a guffaw and a snort. “She’s really into pregnant women too.”

“Too bad I’m not, huh?” Steve crooned and she ignored the way her stomach turned at his tone.

“Too bad, indeed.” YN agreed and suddenly, Steve stood, holding a hand out for YN to take and tired back to the group when she stood, blushing furiously. “We’re going to head to bed, it’s been swell.” Steve smiled and the small group of people booed.

“Come on, man the night is still young.” Sam protested, offering Steve another beer as an offering. Steve waved him off and wrapped an arm around his wife shoulder, carting them off towards the door.

“That’s why we’re going!”

______________________

7:15PM

Steve wasted little time in pressing YN against the door of his bedroom, hands skirting under her dress and tracing up the sides of her thighs. His touch was hot on her, goosebumps erupting over her skin in distinct trails. His lips were seared to her in an intense kiss, and he bent down and scooped her into his arms bridal style, making her squeal and clutch him desperately.

“Steve! What’re you—!” YN tried, laughing as he tried to sexily take off his shirt but failing and looking like a damn dork.

“I’m about to ravish my wife, and make sure she doesn’t run away with her pregnant-woman-loving mistress.” He joked, crawling over YN and kissing her neck, making her sigh and scratch his scalp. She spread her legs easily for him, and he fit between them like a puzzle piece.

“Love this dress, couldn’t keep my eyes off of you the whole night.” He mumbled, moving her thin strap down her arm and following its path with kisses. “It’s look better on the floor though.”

And so he urged her to sit up, kissing her forehead gently before lifting the dress over her head and making his breath stop in his throat— god, she was beautiful. She was braless— the dress made no room for one, and her tits were swollen and soft and waiting for him to get his mouth on them and give them the attention they deserved. His lips were gentle on her— her skin had been wonderfully sensitive these past few days, and it never took much time for her to become putty in his hands.

“Steve.” YN said, and he grunted against her, the taste of her warm in his mouth. She wanted to continue this, really she did, but someone else int eh room had another idea.

“Say my name again, Sweetheart. Love hearin’ you say it.” He replied, pressing her onto her back and letting his hands drift lightly across her belly and to the apex of her thighs where he cupped her sex, and moaned. “Wet for me, huh?”

“Steve, wait.” YN said and Steve was in his right mind enough to pull back a little, looking into her eyes.

“You okay, babe? Did I do something?” He asked, worry making his tone thick. YN shook her head and smiled, brow furrowing a little and looking at the side table where she saw her phone.

“Check my phone please, and tell me the time.” She said, and his heart dropped to his stomach— was there really someone else?

“7:37.” He replied and she nodded, grabbing a pillow and rolling onto her hands and knees. She buried her face in the pillow and let out a low moan, somewhere from deep in her body that Steve didn’t realize she could even make. She rocked back and forth into the pillow, and Steve watched helplessly as he watched his wife’s body tighten and tighten until he thought it would break.

“YN? What— What’s going on?” He begged and her hand shot out, gripping his forearm hard enough for him to be concerned— it didn’t hurt, but usually she was always so gentle with him, even when she was frustrated. “You’re scaring me.”

Eventually, she let her breath go and she melted into the bed, pulling her red face from the pillow and resting on her cheek, looking up at him.

“I didn’t tell you ‘cause I wanted you to have one day where you were the centre of attention, but I’ve been in early labour since 8 in the morning and that was a damn strong contraction.”

And Steve, a man who had seen death over the period of a century, a man who has killed and run from the government on more than one occasion. Steve, a man who has saved the world countless times over and a man who was the bravest she’d ever met let his eyes roll into his skull and fall off the bed in the most dramatic faint YN Rogers had ever seen.

______________________

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose / laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot/ vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 / laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani ��/ @captainomad / eversonaive / rainbowkisses31 / i-think-i-am-adorable / rainbowkisses31 / smalltintedgorl/ geeksareunique / jennmurawski13 / clutteredmind-emptythoughts / venezuelaanklemayonnaise

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers series #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #dad!steve rogers

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grapenamjams · 4 years ago

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Tavern Nights

Genre: Fluff, slight NSFW

Characters: Julian from the arcana and my apprentice Eliza

A/N: i really wanted to write about my favorite dumb doctor but I am not super proud of this one but I still figured I post it because maybe someone will enjoy it?

a little bit about my MC

Her name is Eliza (she/her. Female.) She is 5′2 has brown wavy hair, brown eyes (with specks of green) she also has adorable freckles across her nose. she just wants her red haired doctor to be able to get some rest lol

Tonight was a rare night indeed. After weeks of telling Julian that he needed a vacation Eliza was finally able to negotiate with the doctor to take the weekend off, although she had hoped to get more days off, at this point she would take any number to see him not worry about work, and one of the ways that makes Julian forget and not worry is by looking at the bottom of a couple of tankards.

The Scarlett haired doctor slams the wooden cup down onto the table breathing out a loud Satisfied sigh. “Ah! DRINKS ON ME!” He yells, a eruption of ‘cheers’ and Hollers sound out inside the the rowdy raven. The sound dies down transforming into the usual chatter that bounces off the walls of the small warmly lit tavern. Eliza looks to Julian who has a huge smile, warming her heart to see the happiness on his handsome face. “Julian, honey you already said that... after every drink in fact” she giggles, the alcohol going through her body making her Susceptible to laughing more than usual. ”It has to be said after every drink dear! it makes The experience more authentic!” He grins at her before accepting another pint from the server. Good thing that the tavern owner knows Julian and does not put those words on their tab.

Eliza sipped on her glass, letting the bitter liquid make its way down her throat, she wasn’t much of a drinker like Julian was a soft buzz through her veins was enough for her. She heard a few distinct shuffling in the corner and then a upbeat tune starts to play. “Oh ho the band is finally here!” Julian brightens up. Eliza sees people start pushing tables aside creating their own dance space in the middle of the tavern. Before she knows it a crowd already formed, stomps and cheers ringing out through the small space into the night outside. Neighbors already turning over in their beds hugging their pillows to their face to block out the lively music.

Julian slides out of their booth and stretches a bare hand towards her, his gloves and coat discarded the moment they walked in. “May I take this stunning women out to dance?” He grins. without missing a heart beat Eliza laughs “you certainly may!” she takes his hand and Julian pulls her out of the booth and into his arms. “Wonderful, lets dance!” He laughs and takes her to the crowd of people.

The music that was playing had a group dance to it, Julian leaves Eliza on one side of the line as he goes to the other one in front of her. Both lines skip side to side in the beginning and Then her line starts forward having a little skip to the step until they are face to face with the other line, Julian smiles at her and then she skips back. Julian’s line repeats the step, when Julian is close to her he leans down and gives a quick peck to her lips before he’s pulled away, Eliza’s heart skips a beat. her line then goes Forwards again but this time they duck under the other lines raised arms trading place, a ‘woooo’ is let out when they do this, Then another as Eliza raises her arms for Julian to duck through going on her tippy toes for his large frame.

Both lines face towards the band and start clapping on beat as people from the two lines meet each other at the start and dance their way down the open middle, then the next pair went and another until she was met with Julian. He grabs her left hand and spins her around showing her off to the crowd a cheer is heard for them and Eliza blushes. He then puts his left arm around her waist and begins to lead her down the clapping line. When they reach the end he still holds her close, moving side to side with her. Then as the last people paired up the music changed, this one faster with the violin going full out. An even wider smile breaks across Julian’s face he looks at her and raises his eyebrows “ready?” but before she could say anything, Julian leads her forwards his feet skipping at a faster past almost hopping at times, Eliza had no choice but to try to keep up with his pace at first making her stumble on her feet at the fast movements, hearing Julian's laugh above her gave her brain a different type of buzz as they danced around the tavern.

Forwards, backwards, to the sides Julian moved Eliza all through out the space. Spinning her and him around to the sway of the music. He loved seeing her tilt her head back and laugh still holding on to him letting him lead her. She brought her head back up keeping the smile on her face all the way through the song. Once it ended, the crowed clapped and cheered for the band. In a matter of seconds a new song ringed out over them. It was a much calmer pace but still upbeat tempo it was a chance for the participants to catch their breath.

Julian spines Eliza out in front of him taking a good look at her figure, feeling something hot come over him. He pulls her back to his chest and very much like her own is moving up and down trying to catch their breaths. Julian's hands travel down her body and land on her hips, making a shiver pass through Eliza’s spine. she wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her towards him making their hips move together.

Julian bends down to whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely ravishing tonight my dear” his voice husky and low, breath fanning over her heated neck. Eliza hums “hm you think so?” Julian lifts his head a bit his lips ghosting over her jaw “absolutely, the thoughts that I’m having right now would get any man in trouble” Eliza smirks up at him “well lets see how much trouble those thoughts will get you in” Julian's eyes flicker to hers, darkening with desire before he crashes his lips to hers. He kisses her softly at first but then he feels her hands go through his hair , pushing him against her deepening the kiss. he has to suppress a groan that comes from his throat by tightening his hold on her hips. Julian then parts from her lips to kiss her neck. He kisses her twice before both of them hear a mans voice come up next to them

“Julian you lovesick man treat your women to a room!” The pair snap their heads towards a man dancing with his partner. Julian and Eliza turn bright red at being caught. Eliza hides her face in Julian's chest smiling and shaking her head from embarrassment. Julian recovers and laughs at the man with confidence although in the inside he’s a flustered mess. “will do! thank you for the suggestion my good man” the man laughs and takes his partner away. Julian looks down at Eliza who still has her faces hidden in his chest holding the lapels of his Semi open shirt to cover her face.

“That was embarrassing” she says against his skin, Julian chuckles and puts a finger to her chin making her look up at him. “It shouldn’t, what’s wrong with two people that love each other show a little bit of affection, huh?” Eliza bites her lip trying to Suppress a smile. Julian sees and tugs her bottom lip away from her teeth. “I want the whole world to know your mine and I am yours” he gives her a kiss and pulls back again. “If anyone has a problem with that then...send them my way I’ll give them something to talk about.” he smiles making Eliza shake her head at him, the embarrassment leaving her. “You’re so dramatic” she wraps her arms around his neck again as the next song picks up. “Darling, aren't I always?” He grins and begins to lead her through the next dance.

* * *

After a few more dances and after a few more Emptied tankards Eliza thought it was time to start heading home. She finished her last drink, the lightness she felt throughout her body still let her be aware of what was around her so she could get herself and Julian safely home.

“Another round, please!” Julian says to the server who is picking up their plates and many cups. “A-actually I think we’re done, can you round our tab please?” The server smiles and nodes before walking away. “Awww why so soon?” Julian pouts at her. Eliza lets out a giggle “because if I don’t get you out of here, you’re gonna start dancing on the tables and once that happens there’s no getting you out of bed the next morning” she pushes his chest lightly, Julian laughs at that

“aaand I want to do things tomorrow with you, so I can’t have you laying in bed all day” Julian smirks and grabs her wrist that stayed on his chest, pulling her towards him looking her up and down “but my dear we can also do ‘things’ while laying in bed all day, right?” he leans closer and Eliza matches his smirk but leans away from him raising An eyebrow “with a pounding headache? I don’t think so” Julian smiles and lets out a breath “you’re right” he wraps his arms around her in a tight hug and mumbles “I want to spend the whole day with you with a clear mind, yeah?.... ‘cuz I love youuu” he says squeezing her tight against him squishing her. “Ilya....can’t...breath” she says laughter bubbling inside her. he slackens his hold on her and she looks up at him to see a worried expression on his face “I’m sorry Eliza, are you alright?? Can you breath now?” His hands are on her face checking her like as if she in fact was having trouble breathing from his hug. She places her hands on his “Im fine Julian” his face shows that he is relived “oh good” but a smirk comes just as quick “but are you sure? If you need mouth to mouth, I’ll gladly provide” she pulls his hands away from her face, knowing that this walk home was gonna be a interesting one. “I know you would” smiling, she leans in and kisses him, Julian lets out a satisfied sigh but pouts when she pulls away. “Now come on let’s go home”

When they stepped out of the tavern Eliza didn’t realize how hot it was inside of it. The night air hit her like a wave of cold water, she shivered a bit and fixed her coat around her. The position of the moon overhead as they walked home told her it was well past midnight. Julian was staggering next to her half humming and singing a song from the band that played, he was hunched down with an arm over her shoulder, she insisted on him putting some of his Weight on her so he wouldn't fall on the uneven cobblestones that the lanterns barley helped light.

Julian lays his head on top of hers and breaths in “You always smell like a field of flowers my dear.” He slurs, Eliza lets out a amused laugh “really? I just danced and was inside a smelly tavern for the last few hours, I Smell far from a field of flowers” she feels Julian shake his head into her hair “not trueeee, you smell of roses and your hair is so soft like..like soft angel wings!” His voice coming out slow and deep. He pokes her cheek “Your skin is also so soft like...” he pauses trying to find something to compare it too. “Ah! Like a baby’s-“ “don’t you dare finish that sentence” Eliza cuts him off. Julian barks out a laugh rocking both of them, Eliza tries to quickly steady them both.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that your beautiful, my love” his arms go around hugging her “I love you, you know that? I’ll never know how I got so lucky” He nuzzles his head on top of hers. Then sucks in a breath “I-I truly do love you Eliza! Its the truth! It’s not just the alcohol ‘talkin, I mean it! I really do. With all my heart” he sounds desperate for her to understand his feelings, his pout being heard in his voice. Eliza’s heart warms at his words and actions. she can’t help but to smile and puff out a laugh. She places her hands on top of his around her making him stop his rambling and she squeezes them reassuring him. “I know Ilya, I love you too” she tilts her head up to him and he gives her a kiss.

* * *

Once they entered through the door Eliza let out a relived sigh to be finally back home. The shops incense filling her head. Something wooden landed on the floor with a thud, quickly followed by a sluggish voice “s-sorry my bad” doing a spell to turn on the lights Eliza sees Julian trying to pick up the table he had crashed into but he was swaying forward in the processes missing it, clearly dizzy from drinking. She chuckled, going over and steading the table. She grabbed Julian again “Let’s get you upstairs and into the shower, hm?” Julian nodes but the movement makes his head swell. with a bit of a struggle trying not to fall back down the pair make it upstairs. Eliza helps shed Julian's coat, gloves and boots while he tries to do the same to her but Eliza laughed as she moved away from his grasps making Julian whine in protest.

“Alright, go take a shower” she tugs him towards the bathroom but Julian doesn't go inside, instead He looks at the bathroom and then her with a smug look “you know. I’ve heard that Vesuvias water source is getting low...” he leans in closer “shouldn’t we do our part in saving it?”

‘Gosh why is he an adorable idiot?’ Eliza thinks as she rolls her eyes amused. but As much as she loves the idea she wants him to relax so he could rest thoroughly tonight and be fresh for tomorrow and also.... she liked teasing him “we can save vesuiva’s water problem” she smirks and leans up to kiss him but pauses “later, for now go get in the shower you smell” she goes back down to her feet and pushes him gently towards the bathroom.

the doctor frowns but then his eyebrows shoot up “is that a promise?”

“It’s a maybe” she replies

“I’ll take it!” And without saying anything else he goes into the bathroom.

* * *

Julian comes out of the shower looking refreshed. his wet hair still dripping on to the towel around his neck. After telling him to drink some water Eliza goes inside the bathroom to take a quick shower as well. It felt good standing under the warm water, letting her body Wind down from today’s activities. She steps out of the shower and changes into her night clothes. When she enters the bedroom again Julian is sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her, the glass of water she put for him empty. his hair still wet and dripping into the towel. She places her used one on a chair, “why is your hair still wet?” She asks

“I was waiting for you.” She turns to him an eyebrow raised in question “for me?” Julian's cheeks get a tint of pink on them “I...wanted you to dry my hair...” he averts his eyes. A smile makes its way across Eliza’s face “so you waited this whole time for me, so I could dry your hair?” Julian nodes his head looking up at her walk over to him trying not to laugh.

“Julian you could get a cold” she says, sitting on his lap her legs on either side of him, his hands instinctively going to her hips. He looks up at her and gives her one of his grins “good thing I’m a doctor that has a lovely nurse to take care of him” Eliza laughs ‘what an adorable idiot’ she cant help but think again. she takes the towel around his neck and puts it over his head. “Mmhmm sure, a nurse that will spend the entire day hearing the complains of a doctor that got a cold more like” she says and shakes the towel against his hair. Julian chuckles at her response, closing his eyes.

Once his hair was deemed dry by Eliza she starts to run her fingers through his scarlet hair making Julian lean into her touch, resting his head on her shoulder. With the feeling of her surrounding him and with the calming silence of the shop, even maybe due to the salty bitters in his system. Julian’s tired mind couldn’t help but to wander, thinking of all the moments that he had missed with her because of his work.

How many breakfasts ,lunches, dinners had he missed with her? How many of her smiles and laughs had he not seen or heard? How many nights like the one they had tonight could have happened? A guilt came over him as he heard Eliza’s voice. “all done” he lifted his head to look at her, even though she had said she was finished her fingers still ran through his hair slowly, making curls with her finger.

“Thank you”

Eliza hummed “No need, I don’t mind”

He moved her closer “I mean, thank you for everything. thank you for putting up with me, for being by my side for being here.” He pauses and sighs, he starts to rub her sides “I know.... I haven't been with you as of late. I’ve been so busy with work that I haven't been giving you the attention that you deserve... a-and for that I’m truly sorry, I certainly don’t deserve-“ Julian gets caught off by Eliza kissing him, when she pulls back he stares at her wide eyed. She places a finger to his lips and shakes her head “none of that kind of talk anymore, understand?”

Knowing if she didn’t stop him he would go on a talk that would only lead to a dark place. Julian goes red “but its true I-“ she kisses him again and he smiles against her “understood” he says and kisses her again. Eliza pulls back, she puts one hand on his shoulder while the other one swipes away a already formed curl from his face. “Ilya. I love you and with that I understand that you love the work that you do which in turn makes me proud and happy. You don’t have to be sorry, we get moments like these don’t we? And I appreciate them even more when we do.” she kisses him again and he sighs happily “Thank you” . Eliza traces a finger down his cheek and following his sharp jaw “besides, I have you all to myself for three days and I plan to use that time wisely” Eliza insides do a somersault at what she just said, this confidence definitely coming from the alcohol in her system. She tries to not blush but fails as she sees Julian also redden but gives her a smirk.

“My love, you can’t say those types of things to me right now, I will not be able to sleep” he shifts under her, making her cheeks warm up, he captures her lips in his kissing her softly she kisses him back just the same. after a moment Eliza reluctantly pulls away looking at his hooded eyes. “But sleep we must. If we want energy for tomorrow’s activities” she says rubbing his shoulders. the doctors eyes flicker with interest before falling back onto the bed bringing Eliza down with him. She lets out a startled laugh on top of him and fixes herself on the bed. “Then sleep we shall, so tomorrow’s festivities come faster” Julian says letting out a soft chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist putting his head close to her chest wanting to be held by her, she complies his silent request. “Someone’s eager” she teases him stroking his head again, “can’t blame me” he mumbles heavy eyes starting to close “goodnight my love” he gives her a small squeeze Eliza smiles into his hair giving him a kiss “goodnight Ilya”

#julian devorak #julian the arcana #doctor julian #thearcanamc #the arcana julian #thearcanaoneshot #thearcanastory #julian x apprentice #julian x oc #fluff #juliannsfw #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana asra #the arcana nadia #portia #thearcanamuriel

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johnnys-so · 5 years ago

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got7! street racing au: Jaebum (Part 1)

Group: GOT7 World: Street Racing au Parts: Prologue, Jaebum (Part 1) Racers: Jaebum, Yugeyom, Youngjae

A/N: Hello! First off, thank you so much for the love and reaction that this fic has received. I am so motivated to see this through till the end that I’ve been planning like crazy. But much like relationships, I will ruin a fic if I plan it out too much. So, here is the first part of the story. I hope you can learn a little bit about our got7!racers and do let me know what you think/want to see and I’ll incorporate them into the story!!

Three cubes of ice slipped neatly into the glass. The clink of drinks being passed around at the bar was drowned by the slow lilt of a grand piano in the background. At an establishment of this stature, it was only ordinary to see the entitled heirs of Korean conglomerates mingle daintily with each other.

In his usual corner, Lee Hwan sat in the middle of his group of admirers. To call them friends, would associate an amicable nature to the otherwise stone-cold heir. Lee Hwan was known for three things within his circle of acquaintances: smart investments, fast cars and a temper to be vary of. It was rare to see him lose his cool in public; it almost never happened. But if anyone could step on his toes, it would be Im Jaebum.

“I honestly don’t know why you tolerate him. I mean, sure, he’s the best in the scene right now but you’re not so bad either. Right, Hwan?”

Someone should have warned this second son of some company that to compare Lee Hwan with anybody, was the quickest way to death. Hwan’s eyes locked momentarily onto this insignificant boy, his shoulders shifting to stare him down into submission. Before he could say another word, Hwan’s trusted friend and the manager of his racing team was quick to speak up. “Jaebum is the best because he’s in our team. He would be no one without Hwan and he should know his place before he decides to act out again.”

The growing insinuation in the room spoke volumes of the incident at Soyang Lake. In the early hours of the morning, the same group which sat huddled around Lee Hwan, had gathered in the boughs of the forest around Soyang lake. The ‘three black roses’ was an exclusive group of racing enthusiasts who met thrice a year to watch over chosen racers competing against each other in a maddening chase. They were a coming together of three princes from conglomerate families who met not only to organize and watch over the underground street racing scene, but also to shake up each other’s’ future. The Soyang Takeover was a fan-favourite. Winding roads hugged by a mystic lake on one side and death-trap cliffs on the other. For an automobile enthusiast, it provided a prime opportunity to test the skill and courage of his driver.

For Lee Hwan and Jaebum, this was a race to establish that they were still the kings of street racing in Korea.

Unlike previous times, when Jaebum had silently obliged with Hwan’s orders, this time was different. As the crowd watched, Jaebum’s car David swerved dangerously against the railing and pulled ahead of the Goliath. Its screeching tires were in harmony with the echoing cheers of a rampant crowd. The onlookers raised their glasses in blatant excitement, compliments for Jaebum pouring over their lips like honeyed liquor. At a distance, Youngjae and Yugeyom looked at each other in relief. Jaebum’s neat trick was a huge risk, especially on Soyang’s roads. But he had always managed to do the impossible, earning him and his car the rightful nickname ‘David’.

Just then at the bar, someone drew the group’s attention with a clearing of their throat.

“Hwan.” Jaebum’s deep tenor resonated softly in the air. The relationship between these men had grown tense over the last few weeks, in the wake of the race.

“Mn.”

Jaebum knew not to push Hwan when he was surrounded by his lackeys. His gaze carried over to gentle Seunghoon, the manager. At his cue, Seunghoon stood up with a flourish and scooped Jabeum by his shoulders. “Oh come now, you don’t have to be like this. Just apologise to our hyung, and he’ll surely embrace you back into his good graces.”

An uncomfortable silence followed his over the top attempt at flattery. Under his fingers, Jaebum’s shoulders tensed at the mention of an apology. He had done nothing to apologise for. Hwan had demanded a victory and that is exactly what Jaebum delivered. How he managed that delivery, was not his concern.

“I’m here for my pay.”

At the sound of money, as most people do, the entitled bunch of men scoffed. “Shamelessly asking for the money huh, these street urchins really don’t change do they.”

Hwan’s gaze brushed over the passing comment and went straight to Jaebum. Just like he had expected, he watched the man’s fingers fold into a fist. His lips grew thinner and a smudge of tension settled between his brows. Ever since he was a teenager, Jaebum had been easy to anger. But Hwan knew that eliciting anger was a fool’s knife. Anybody could do that.

As Jaebum icily slinked away from Seunghoon’s hold, a flutter of money rained in front of him. Hwan lay satisfied, a slow smirk cooking on the side of his lips. “You’re right. Of course you’re here for the pay, you deserve it Bum-ah.” Hwan lazily stood up from his chair, his hand grazing the curve of Jaebum’s shoulder. He circled his racer like a tiger on a hunt, under no visible hurry to do any damage.

As he leaned in closer, Jaebum heard the final words whispered into his ear, “I’ll just be really sad if something were to happen to your daily wages. You know how we get. We rich and spoiled brats have too many pets to take care of. You have a few people left to pay, don’t you?”

There it was. The obvious slander, packaged in glitter. Hwan didn’t need anybody else to humiliate his underlings for him. He did that job all too well himself. For Jaebum, however, this was more than humiliation. This was a warning, and he had heard it loud and clear.

Hwan’s whiskey lay unattended on the mahogany table as Jaebum crouched by it. He slowly picked up the leftover bills, counting each one under his breath. As the last bill had been folded safely in his hands, he straightened his back and looked pointedly at the ground.

“I’m sorry, Hwan.”

Hwan waved a dismissing hand in the air. Seunghood rushed to translate the peacock’s blatant dismissal of the matter, and escorted Jaebum out of the premises.

——-

“Hyung!”

A slender frame jumped earnestly by the street corner. This early in the afternoon, the street was bustling with activity. Women squatted by the pavement to sell fresh produce, restaurants swinging their doors open to welcome the lunch crowd and shop-keepers peeping into the streets to catch hold of strangers.

Jaebum’s face visibly lightened at the sight of the younger boy. Yugyeom was one of the few people in his neighbourhood who could keep him sane. He reminded Jaebum of simpler times, of racing across the grey tarmac on summer evenings. As he inched closer to the entrance of the grey building, Yugyeom bounded towards him.

“Is it done, hyung? Did you get it? Will we able to settle the amount today?” Yugeyom’s song-bird lilt of a voice crashed into Jaebum like spring wind. He huffed out a laugh at the visible urgency. “Yes. Youngjae will be fine from now on.”

Slipping his hands into his jacket to pat the bundle of money one more time, the boys entered the office of a loan shark.

Although it was a naïve statement, Jaebum hoped that his apology would have smoothed over his indiscretion. Enough to help him protect that truth; to protect Youngjae and Yugyeom from further damage.

#got7 #jaebum #yugyeom #youngjae #got7 street racing au #got7 scenarios

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blackfen · 5 years ago

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(i never send writing prompts so idk if this is too specific or anything, im sorry!) perhaps something where (trans man)link hasn't visited zora's domain in a while and finds himself chasing a star piece there. he climbs rutala dam to retrieve it just before sunrise and finds sidon in the reservoir?

This one got a bit long

Why did these damn things always fall so far away? Why couldn’t they fall right in front of him for once? But no, it had to be over miles away, in some random location that was difficult to reach on foot and even more difficult to track from just looking alone. Didn’t help that the stupid things only fell during the night, too. He was half tempted to ask Purah if there was any way to add a specific tracking function for star pieces to the Sheikah Slate since the regular one didn’t seem to work on those weird hunks of rock. Would definitely make it a whole lot easier to track the stupid things down, rather than just wondering around for hours, trying to figure out where that strange beam of light was coming from exactly.

Huffing and puffing, his sweat-drenched clothes clinging uncomfortably to his overheated skin, Link hauled himself up the mountain’s face, keeping a wary eye on the ominous looking clouds forming overhead. In any other scenario, he wouldn’t mind a little bit of cooling rain but considering he had just spent the past hour making his way up, the last thing he needed was for things to become slippery. Knowing his luck, he’d probably go plummeting towards the bottom and have to start all over again. The thought alone was give him a burst of energy. He had already been putting aside safety for the sake of speed but as those dark clouds rolled in close, safety didn’t have a meaning in his mind. Bolting up the rockface, finding whatever crannies he could to stick his toes and fingers into, Link finally made it to the top just as the first raindrop plopped down heavily on his shoulder. A few seconds later, it was pouring. The sound of thousands of droplets of waters slamming into the smooth rock filled up the otherwise silent night. A sharp wind began to blow, whipping his loose clothing.

Sighing gratefully, Link tilted his head back to let the rain fall onto his hot face. It was going to make it a lot harder to find the star piece but damn, did it feel good. Reaching under his shirt to tug the restrictive layer of thick leather around his chest back into place, hating how disgustingly soggy the stupid thing got whenever it got hot, he pulled his hair out of a ponytail then redid it to get all of the hair out of his face. Giving his head a shake, he set off, keeping the bright beam of light piercing through the grey haze straight in his sights. Sunrise was only a short while away. The cloud cover to the east was tinted with bright spots of pink and red. The world was gradually becoming lighter. If he didn’t hurry, all of his hard work was going to be for nothing. After a few steps, though, something else caught his attention, bringing him to a halt, despite his initial rush. He hadn’t really been paying attention to where he was doing. All of his focus was on the star piece. When he caught a flash of familiar red out of the corner of his eye, his attention immediately shifted. Turning, his eyes widened in surprise. It seemed in his trek, he had managed to not only wind up in the Domain but right next to the Rutala Dam. A heavy mist hung over the water’s surface but there was no mistaking that red.

Sidon. The Zora Prince swum in wide, lazy circles, seemingly more out of the enjoyment of just being in the water, rather than for exercise and sport. Link’s heart jumped a little in excitement at having stumbled across him. It had been a long while since he was last in the Domain, probably somewhere close around two months. Trying to calm the Divine Beast Naboris was taking up a lot of his time. What free time he had left was usually spent trying to hunt down resources or locate shrines, neither of which were the easiest things in the world, leaving him with no time to do the stuff he actually wanted to do. Granted, lately, there was only one thing he really wanted to do. After calming Divine Beast Ruta, he spent probably way more time than he should have in the Domain or, more specifically, with Sidon. They romped all over the mountains, swam in the rivers, explored and just…did normal stuff. It was fun…peaceful to be around him. Ever since he awoke in the Shrine of Resurrection, everything had been so turbulent, so chaotic but with Sidon, he finally felt like he could breathe. Leaving the Domain, leaving him, seeing in those bright, golden eyes just how much Sidon didn’t want him to leave, that had not been fun.

To take his mind off how much he didn’t want to go, he had thrown himself into calming Naboris and now, weeks had passed since he’d last seen him. The loneliness that had been dogging him ever since he set out from the Domain came back in full force, nearly knocking him over onto his butt. Link glanced over at the bright shaft of light piercing up through the heavy rain. Screw it. There would be other star pieces. He wasn’t going to pass up on spending time with Sidon over some stupid rock. Turning his back on the light, he quickly (and carefully) darted down the slope leading into the reservoir. Came close to slipping a couple times but finally made it to the water’s edge. Skidding to a stop, he waved his arms to try to get Sidon’s attention. No good, he was too involved in his swimming to glance over at some random area. Glancing around, Link spied a good size rock lying a few feet away. Picking it up, he reared one arm back and chucked it hard at a spot a few feet away from Sidon. It hit with the water with a loud splash, instantly catching the Zora Prince’s attention.

Coming to a stop mid-cycle, Sidon looked to where the rock had plopped into the water then glanced behind him, in Link’s direction. A huge smile spread simultaneously across this faces when blue met gold.

“Link!” Sidon cried out excitedly, raising one arm in a enthusiastic wave. Darting underneath the water, becoming a red blur beneath the surface, Sidon ejected himself from the water like a missile, performed a rather extravagant flip in mid-air and landed gracefully beside him. Before Link could sign anything, he found himself gathered up in a soggy, firm embrace, crushed to Sidon’s broad chest. A flush of brilliant heat flooded into his face. Eyes widening in surprise, Link hung there limply for a moment, too startled by the sudden, out of nowhere hug, then relaxed into Sidon’s hold. Gods, it felt so good. When was the last time he had been hugged? Must’ve been over a hundred years ago…literally. Pressing his cheek to Sidon’s smooth skin, Link’s eyes fluttered closed. Suddenly, he was reminded of just how exhausted he was - wrapped up in Sidon’s secure hold, enveloped in his scent and warmth, he found himself unable to open his eyes, the seductive lure of sleep stroking its lithe fingers over his mind.

“It is so good to see you.” Sidon murmured, the pleasant rasp of his voice pulling him out of the sleepy haze, “I’ve been worried about you.”

The position they were in wasn’t exactly making it easy to talk to him. As much as he didn’t want to be released from the embrace, they needed to change some things around so they could talk to one another. A little bit of a wiggle was enough to indicate to Sidon that it was time to put him down. With an obvious air of disappointment, the Zora Prince lowered him back to his feet and stepped back a little but didn’t relinquish his hold. Dropping down onto one knee so they were at near enough eye level with one another, his large hands remained on Link, keeping them close enough that when he started to sign, he only had the smallest amount of space to do so.

‘Sorry to have worried you. It is good to see you too!’ Link hesitated for a moment then added with a sheepish smile, ‘I wanted to come back to the Domain but it has been really hard to calm the Gerudo Divine Beast.’

“You haven’t been pushing yourself too hard, have you?” Sidon asked, concern clear in his bright, golden eyes. The rain had subsided to a soft drizzle. Insects began to chirp and buzz as the sky continued to lighten. “I know so much lies on your shoulders but you have allies here. If there is anything I can do to help, all you need to do is ask.”

‘I know,’ Link signed, the tips of his ears tingling with pleasant heat, ‘thank you. Don’t worry, though, I’ve got this!’

“I’m well aware of that, my friend but it is unfair to expect one person to do so much. I wish,” Sidon stopped, his expression becoming conflicted then sighed, shaking his head slightly, “I wish there was more I could do to help.”

Link couldn’t keep the expression surprise of his face. Before he had time to fully react, Sidon gave his head another hard shake, his fin swinging and offered a toothy grin, straightening up, “My apologizes, we haven’t seen each other in a while and the very first thing I do is mope. Come along, my friend! Have you eaten? Slept? I’ll-”

The barrage of words came to a halt when Link reached forward to grab hold of Sidon’s hand. Pausing, the smile fading a little, Sidon looked down at him curiously. There was no hint of the conflict, of the sadness that there had been earlier. Staring up at him, Link studied his face for a moment then stepped forward, gesturing for the Zora Prince to kneel down once again. Cocking his head, Sidon did so, curling his large fingers around Link’s significantly smaller hand. Offering a small smile, as though he knew Link wasn’t just going to let that go, Sidon opened his mouth to say something but he beat him to it.

Regrettably pulling his hand away, Link signed, ‘You do help. You help me more than you know by just being here. There’s nowhere else that is as peaceful, as safe as right here. I don’t have that anywhere else. That is how you help.’ He paused for a moment then smiled, ‘You make me feel safe. That’s a pretty big accomplishment, in my opin-’

Sidon abruptly jolted forward, bringing his face close to Link’s. Their lips bumped together in an awkward, clumsy kiss that lasted less than a second. Face burning, his mouth hanging open stupidly, Link stared up onto the Zora Prince’s face as he yanked back, his golden eyes stretched open wide, a bright tinge of blue dyeing his cheeks. A pleasant fluttering filled up his stomach. His chest felt oddly tight. Even with the rain having cool down the air around him, he was burning hot enough, it was remarkable that the remaining water hadn’t turned instantly to steam. Kiss-! Sidon had just-!

“I’m sorry.” Sidon sputtered, “I’m so sorry, Link. I just-I was only-I..I…”

His lips were tingling. Slowly reaching up, his gaze sliding away from Sidon’s embarrassed expression, Link pressed the pads of his fingers to them. He blinked once, twice, his breath coming slow and steady then looked back up to Sidon. Ah…so that was what it was. In hindsight, it felt obvious. This…he hadn’t felt like this about anyone before. Not even Zelda, who was so near and dear to his heart, hadn’t been able to make him feel this warm, this happy, this…needy.

Raising his hands, he sighed, ‘Again.’

“Huh?”

‘Do it again. Please.’

Sidon somehow managed to flush an even brighter shade of blue. Audibly swallowing, he dipped down, cupping Link’s face in the curve of his large hands. Letting his eyes fluttered close, Link sighed softly when Sidon’s smooth lips pressed once more to his own. Curling his fingers around his wrists, Link pushed back up into him. It became immediately obvious that neither of them knew what they were doing. They clumsily moved against one another, only doing what felt right. He could no longer smell the wet earth and the still falling rain; every breath he pulled in was pull of Sidon’s scent. A unfamiliar taste bled into his mouth, slowly overwhelming his tongue. Salt, something fruity and something a little bit bitter. The taste of Sidon’s mouth - a strange pang of heat reverberated out from the base of his belly at that realization. Warm breath brushed along his skin as Sidon exhaled. This…it was divine, he never wanted to stop kissing him but, all too soon, the Zora Prince pulled away.

“I’m assuming,” Sidon said slowly, gazing down at him with heat-hazy golden eyes, “that this means you’re not upset that I kissed you?”

Link slowly shook his head, feeling a little dizzy, ‘Again.’

Sidon laughed softly, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose, “Come back to the Domain with me and get some food, some sleep and I’ll kiss you all you want.”

Snorting, Link quirked a brow, ‘Like I’d say no? I wanna go but one more to hold me over until we get there.’

Laughing once more, Sidon did as he asked, dipping down for a quick, sweet kiss before gathering him up into his arms. Snuggling close, feeling lighter and stronger than he had since he left the Domain, Link rested his cheek on Sidon’s shoulder. Watching the scenery pass as they made their way back down into the Domain, Link realized there was a little bit of an issue with how things had turned out. Naboris was still waiting to be infiltrated and freed from the Calamity’s grasp but he wasn’t so sure he would be able to extract himself from the Domain anytime soon. Sighing softly, Link curled his arms around Sidon’s shoulders.

Oh well, he would figure out some sort of solution. He always did.

#breath of the wild #loz #prince sidon #sidlink #devotedstar

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or-ng-c-ss-dy · 5 years ago

Text

winning is fun (losing is too)

i think the thing in this fandom is to post fics directly to tumblr. so im gonna try that out i guess...here you go.

you can also find it here on ao3, it’s member locked so fair warning.

another warning, this fic includes themes of internalized homophobia/biphobia. no other warnings apply tho.

some chuckie t/oc for your night, 18+ only, 4.6k words.

----

He had looked for Orange Cassidy everywhere, the little closet they had been hanging out in, the men’s locker room, even in The Elite’s private locker room. And then in stairwells, in the halls. And then he threw his hands over his eyes (he was a gentleman after all) and walked into the women's locker room to look for the unofficially-official third Best Friend, maybe was hanging out with Kris Statlander again.

Instead of finding him, Chuck got unceremoniously thrown out onto his ass by several of the women in there, and there was still no sign of Orange.

Which was unfortunate, Dynamite had long happened and people were finally starting to filter out to their hotel rooms or to catch a late dinner, and Chuck wanted to leave too. But not without Orange, although he was getting closer and closer to just leaving him there and letting him find his own way back to their room.

“Orange, c’mon, man. Did ya fall asleep somewhere, I know you’re all small and stuff so you can sneak into little places to sleep, but we have beds back at the hotel that are more comfy.” He tried, calling out to the empty hallway.

Trent had joined him for the search for a little while, but ended up giving up when he got too hungry. Chuck let him go, but he wasn’t going to leave Orange there. Not really, as tempting as it was to just go hit the bar and find the greasiest slice of pizza the city had to offer all by himself, it wouldn’t be the same without Orange.

He ended up rounding the corner and nearly running straight into Luchasaurus, who stopped him with huge hands on his shoulders. Jungle Boy peered down at him from his place up high on Luchasaurus’ shoulders.

“Shoot, sorry about that.” Chuck said. “Hey, it’s alright. You look worried about something, though, is everything alright.” “Yeah, I’m just looking for my pal, Orange Cassidy. You seen him?”

Luchasaurus thought about it for a second. When Jungle Boy started tapping on the top of his head, he pulled his hands off of Chuck’s shoulders and gave him an apologetic smile.

“No, sorry. But Jungle Boy here heard the showers still going, maybe he’s in there?” “Ah, thanks! I’ll go look.” Chuck said, patting Jungle Boy’s leg before scooting on past the pair.

Sure enough, he could hear the shower running from the hall. He had just been in the men’s locker room, but there were other people in there and he had just gotten out of the shower, so he didn’t think to look for Orange in there. But there he was, standing under the spray of the water in the otherwise empty shower room.

Orange was naked other than his sunglasses and a pair of shower shoes that he instantly recognized as the pair that he had brought, far too big for Orange’s feet. And he was leaning against the wall, his usual blank look on his face. Chuck couldn’t help but feel relief wash over him, he hadn’t realized that he was nervous over Orange until he had finally found him.

He didn’t think that PAC would try anything outside of the ring, but the man was pretty much like a wild animal those days. Maybe he would try to get to his newly found rival when people weren’t looking. Luckily, it just appeared as if Orange had fallen asleep while standing up in the shower again, this time in the locker room instead of in their home bathroom.

“Christ, buddy, there you are. You worried me sick.” Chuck said, approaching Orange.

Orange shifted slightly, head tilting in Chuck’s general direction. Other than that, he didn’t really move or react, although Chuck knew him well enough to see the slight tilt of his lips.

“Sorry.” He said after a moment.

It took until that point to register that Orange was naked. He had seen his friend naked before, of course he had, through shared locker rooms and showers with no stalls, but it was different when other people were there alongside them. He had even carried on mostly-one sided conversations with Orange while they were naked, but it was different to be alone with him while he was naked.

Chuck was suddenly very aware of the fact that his dick was right there, soft between short, blond curls, and that his chest was perfectly toned and glistening with droplets from the shower. His skin was a soft, pretty pink, steam curling around his body, and it was information that his brain supplied to him before he could stop himself.

It didn’t mean anything, Orange was just objectively attractive. Just because he was thinking it, it didn’t mean that he was attracted to his friend, it was just a fact of life. It was easy to write the thoughts off as that, he had been doing it for years after all. He wasn’t into men, of course he wasn’t. Gay people were perfectly cool with him, something that had taken him an embarassingly long time to realize after growing up in Kentucky, but he was straight and that was that.

After all, he liked girls. So that was what he could focus on.

It took a grunt from Orange to pull him out of his thoughts, flushing from being caught so far off guard.

“Oh, uh. It’s okay, man. Just hurry up, I’m hungry.”

Chuck went to leave Orange to it, figuring that he should probably get out of there before his mind wanders any further. Instead, he stayed looking for just long enough to see Orange start to move at a snail’s pace, hand raising from its place at his side to slowly rub as his chest.

It was ridiculous. Chuck scoffed and crossed his arms, moving in closer to Orange before he could stop himself.

“Really, dude?” “Yeah.” “Do you need help with that or something?” Chuck said, rolling his eyes.

It was meant to be a joke, he thought it came out sounding like a joke. But Orange just nodded, letting his hands fall back to his side and...well, presenting his body to Chuck. Chuck just stood there, staring at him, eyes wide.

“Seriously?” “Yeah. Help me out.” Orange said, a twist forming at his lips. “Absolutely not, wash your own damn body. What do you take me for, your boyfriend?” Chuck said, a little too harsh for his own liking.

He flinched at the sound of his own voice, a little too harsh, a little too revealing. Orange seemed to take it in stride though, pouting and trying not to laugh. He lifts his hands up and does that stupid thing he does in the ring, loose hands gesturing in the vaguest ‘come on” signal of all times.

“C’mon.” “Don’t you start that crap, OC.”

Chuck knew that he couldn’t resist Orange when he made that face, but that usually extended to doing something stupid like jumping down a flight of stairs just for the hell of it or taking another shot, not...not getting his hands on his naked, perfect body.

Christ, he was in deeper than he thought.

“Please, Chuck.” He said, wry smile crossing over his usual look of indifference. “Ugh,” Chuck groaned obnoxiously, “fine. But you’re buying the first round...no, the first three rounds as payment for me having to touch your gross, sweaty bod. And I’m getting top shelf stuff in my diet coke.”

He hoped that would deter Orange, that he wouldn’t agree to the terms set by Chuck. But Orange simply gave him another lazy smile and a soft huff that might’ve been a laugh.

“Fine by me.” “Huh, seriously?” Chuck said, completely struck. “Yeah. Bathe me, Chuck.” Orange said, deadpan voice not matching the smirk on his face.

Was Orange just playing? Maybe he wasn’t expecting Chuck to actually do it, maybe they were both playing this strange game of bluffing. Gay chicken with higher stakes, because he wasn’t sure if Orange was just trying to fake him out or not, but he defintely wasn’t trying to fake Orange out. Not when the thought of touching him like that had his mouth dry, swallowing hard, made him want to say all the words that he wasn’t allowed to say.

If he touched him, would Orange push him away? Orange was looking at him through his sunglasses, expression turning unreadable. Was he waiting in horror or anticipation over the idea of Chuck actually touching him? They had touched before, obviously, wrestling was all about contact between two sweaty, half-naked people, but it was different when there wasn’t the sport and the crowd and the ref.

It was just them. Chuck shook slightly as he stepped up, hand extending slowly until it finally landed flat on Orange’s chest, laying there. He could feel the slick heat from the water, giving way to the radiating heat of Orange’s body. He had taken a few good chops that day, skin bruised and broken under Chuck’s fingers.

Chuck looked up at Orange’s face, looking for any disgust in his face. Instead, Orange’s pink lips were gaped open slightly, chest heaving slightly. Chuck wanted to ask if it was okay, but the words got stuck in his throat and he worried that, if they managed to free themselves, that they might shatter the moment between them. That the spell would be broken and they’d spring back like they had been doing something wrong.

Instead, he reached over Orange’s shoulder, the motion bringing him just a little bit closer into his space, grabbing for the shampoo on the shelf behind him. Chuck looked at the label, suppressing a laugh as a huff when he realized that it was orange-scented. He had seen it in their shared bathroom at home, in hotel rooms, but it was funnier when he was the one about to rub it into Orange’s hair and he almost wanted to make some joke about it. Instead, he popped the top and poured some in his hands, rubbing them together to lather the soap up.

He was thankful that Orange was a good deal shorter than him. It made it so he didn’t have to stand on his toes or...or have Orange kneel down to be able to wash his hair. Instead, he turned him around with a firm press on his shoulder and got his soapy fingers into that water-darkened blond hair. Chuck rubbed at his scalp gently, careful not to press too hard as PAC had also been fond of using his hair to lead him around the ring.

Orange let out a contented sigh, a soft huff of sound that had Chuck’s face flushing slightly. It had been an involuntary little sound that he had coaxed out of Orange, and he couldn’t help but want to get more noises out of him. Just another thought that he couldn’t control.

He was glad that he hadn’t put his shirt back on yet, too busy looking for Orange to finish getting dressed. Because Orange tilted his head back, soaking wet against his bare chest as Chuck massaged shampoo into his temples for a little too long. From that angle, he could see the way Orange’s eyes closed contentedly behind the sunglasses that he was still wearing. It made him feel warm and itchy in ways that he couldn’t even begin to describe, in a way that was both pleasant and deeply unpleasant, but all together unbearable.

Chuck forced himself to gently guide Orange under the spray, forced himself to not grab him close or to shove him away entirely with both hands on his back. Washing his hair was the easy part and, yet, he was already spiraling, already looking for ways of self preservation.

Instead, he reached back over for the bottle of body wash on the shelf as Orange washed the shampoo out of his hair. His body wash was orange-scented too but it wasn’t as funny anymore, the faint scent of oranges that usually hung around him amplified in the hot, damp shower air in ways that had him fighting to catch his breath.

He worked the body wash between the palms of his hands, readying himself for the fact that he was about to become more acquainted with the body of his friend than he’d ever thought he would. Than he ever thought he’d be allowed.

Chuck started at Orange’s shoulders and arms, the safest places he could think of, rubbing the soap over him in circles. His muscles were firm under his hands, God, he had worked hard on those things. Chuck knew that from his appearance, but it was different when he was touching as opposed to just looking.

He scrubbed up and down his arms and shoulders until he couldn’t put his chest off any longer. It was an odd angle, hands pressed against his chest, nothing like washing himself and nothing like the playful showers he had with various ex-girlfriends. The washing hadn’t been the point of those, just a pretense to some rather-mediocre sex that would’ve been better in a bed anyway. Chuck figured that it’d probably be easier if Orange was facing away from him, a more familiar angle, but that would mean being crotch-to-ass and...well. There were a lot of reasons why he didn’t want to do that.

Mainly a rather...pressing issue that was starting to strain against the front of his sweatpants. Chuck couldn’t adjust himself without leaving a wet, soapy hand print that would’ve made it obvious as to what he was doing, so he just hoped that Orange hadn’t noticed it.

He hadn’t checked if Orange was into it though. He could’ve, easily, considering that there was nothing covering him. Chuck was almost too afraid to look, to figure out what it meant to Orange. If he was into it, opening a door that neither of them would be able to close. Or if he wasn’t into it like Chuck was, making him the creep that was looking too far into things.

So he kept his eyes cast on Orange’s perfect chest as he washed him, arms moving around him to wash his back as well. God, they were too close, he could feel the even exhale of Orange’s breath fanning over his neck, making him shiver despite the heat of the shower, of the body pressed so close to him.

It was all making him confront the parts of himself that he hadn’t let himself ever confront, all in vivid color. The pink of Orange’s skin, of his lips, the ghostly white of his own knuckles and the soap that he was lathering him up with, and the deep blue of the eyes that were boring into his own. He hadn’t even realized that Orange had taken his sunglasses off until he was nearly choking on his own breath.

Chuck caught sight of his own reflection in the glasses, put up on the shelf next to Orange’s soaps, and he could only see a man that was so far out of his element, so desperate to understand the desperation that was clawing up from the pit of his stomach. Thrust into some part of himself that he didn’t understand, throwing away the walls they had built between each other without even knowing, all for the sake of something that had started as a joke.

Maybe it had never been a joke. But he had done enough analysing for one day and he really had to do Orange’s legs next.

...Oh. He hadn’t realized what would mean until he slid his hands towards those legs and moved over cut hip bones, far too close to the place that he hadn’t dared look. He couldn’t wash Orange without moving closer to his...well. His crotch region.

Chuck figured that he should probably back off, should tell Orange to do the rest of his own damn washing. Play it off as a joke that had gotten a little too awkward for his liking, gotten a little too gay.

He’d need to crouch down to get to his lower half and that would mean that he’d have to be face to face with Orange’s dick. It was time for the joke to end, but maybe it was never a joke. Maybe he had been completely serious, maybe it had all been to get his hands on his body. A manifestation of the deepest parts of himself.

He wasn’t drunk enough to be philosophizing like that, and he certainly wasn’t drunk enough to be touching Orange at all. He usually kept his distance until he was a few drinks in, and then he could reason with himself as to why he was touching Orange. Instead he was blindingly, obviously sober.

Instead of pushing back or finding a way to end the strange thing that was happening between them, Chuck found himself being carried away by all of it. By the ragged sound of Orange’s breathing and the steam that was curling around them like the ghosts of fingers. His pants were damp from the water and from the sweat that had broken out on his body, and they were far tighter than sweatpants were supposed to be, and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Chuck found himself wanting whatever was building between them. He sucked in a breath and crouched down at Orange’s front to wash his legs, letting himself be confronted by the evidence of what was happening between them.

Because Orange was hard, hanging heavy and blood-flushed between his thighs. Chuck’s hands rubbed slowly over his thighs and he let himself look up into the face of his friend, into those lust darkened blue eyes that were staring down at him. Orange’s hands hadn’t really moved from his side but they were hovering over Chuck’s head like he was about to grab for him, to pull him close and...and…

Would he let him? Would he open his mouth for Orange, let him slide in, let him fuck into his face? Or was that too much, too far, because, if they broke that damn, what other barriers would they push past, what other lines would they cross? Would he do the same, fuck his pretty mouth and maybe even his perfect little ass? A few handjobs in the shower, that could be written off as something that happened in some strange heated moment, but anything else had more intent.

Something that they couldn’t just write off.

Orange’s indecisive fingers finally landed, curling around the line of his jaw and guiding him up until he was standing. He was taller than Orange, it was obvious really, but it hadn’t felt like it mattered until he was pretty much looming over him, casting a shadow over his features.

They both looked lost, he knew that much was true, and it felt strange to have Orange’s hands on his skin despite how much he’d touched him while washing him. But his fingers hadn’t moved from Chuck’s jaw, and Chuck’s hands found his hips, gripping him tight enough that he worried he’d leave more bruises on his sensitive, easily marked skin, and the thought made him want to mark him up even more.

“Chuck.” Orange said, voice broken as it shattered the illusion between them.

But it had never been about a friendly shower, had it?

Chuck’s hands pulled Orange against him, the hot line of his body soaking his sweatpants and, God, he didn’t care because it felt so good. He thought about kissing him, kissing that confused look right off of his face. Instead, he leaned down and brushed his lips down the side of his neck, the first real sign of his intentions.

Orange gasped, a soft sound that whistled past his ears, and Chuck gave his own groan in return. It made him feel bolder, gripping Orange tighter and canting his hips forward to let him feel just how into their weird moment he had gotten.

He was suddenly very aware of the fact that they weren’t exactly in a private setting. Anyone could walk right in, walk around a small wall, and find them there. Hell, anyone with a camera could get them on video, the Bucks seemed fond of walking around and filming everything about backstage.

Did he even care? He had Orange’s lithe little body pressed up against him and that was the only thing he could bring himself to focus on, the rest of it just faded away. The Young Bucks, Cody Rhodes, Kenny Omega, and Adam Page could all stroll in to film something for their show, and he’d yell at them like they were the ones in the wrong, all so he could keep grinding against that tight, pliant body in his arms.

Chuck let his tongue drag up the side of his neck, lapping a droplet of water off of his skin. Emboldened by the soft sigh that dropped from Orange’s lips, he let himself nip at the patch of pale skin that was right under his ear. Leaving hickies was some high school crap, but he just wanted to see his marks on Orange’s pale skin. He had seen the way that his skin was lit up after a match, blindingly bright red, and he wanted to be the one to mark Orange up.

“C’mon, Chuck.” Orange panted out, pretty pink lips parted invitingly.

Fingers wound into the short hairs at the back of his neck, Orange had to push up on his toes to press their lips together and kiss him in earnest. It was a good fucking kiss, something that he didn’t know how much he wanted until it was actually happening. Orange’s tongue slid across his bottom lip and Chuck responded in kind. He felt Orange’s lips quirk up and couldn’t help but break the kiss to laugh, tilting their foreheads together.

“This is ridiculous.” He murmured, stroking over Orange’s face fondly. “Yeah.” “My pants are getting soaked, dude.”

Orange huffed out a laugh at that, a soft sound that made Chuck lean in just to kiss him again. God, he was cute. He always knew it in the back of his mind, but it was being dragged out to the forefront just from a few kisses and some light grinding.

“Take them off, then.”

Hands found the waist of his sweatpants, tugging them down. His erection bobbed between them and Orange angled his hips to rub them together, catching them both in his smaller fist. Chuck let out a groan, tipping forward to muffle his sounds in Orange’s wet skin.

“Christ, that feels good.” He said and Orange hummed in agreement.

A part of him was still worried that someone else would walk in, a part of him thought that the possibility made it even better. Orange seemed to get that they had to move quick, but Chuck thought that he might not mind someone walking in. They’d see that Orange was his now, and that thought had him moaning.

“C’mon, OC, faster. You don’t want anyone walkin’ in on us, do ya?” He groaned, and Orange let out a soft moan in return, hand moving a little faster.

The water didn’t really alleviate any of the friction, but Chuck was too wrapped up in the moment to give a shit. After all, Orange was moaning prettily, blue eyes locked on his own brown ones. Chuck tilted his head up, brushing their lips together as he thrust into Orange’s fist.

“Don’t want anyone seeing you moan like a little slut for me, this is all for me, baby.” Chuck said, grin turning a little wild as Orange let out a louder moan.

His cheeks flushed prettily and Chuck wondered what else he could make flush with just a little bit of pressure. His mind was moving at a thousand miles a minute, the image of fucking into Orange right then and there flooding his mind. It was a little sleazy if he was being honest, and completely ungentlemanly, but the thought of bending him over and taking him from behind had him getting closer and closer to orgasm.

Chuck cradled the hand circled around them, encouraging Orange to stroke a little faster and a little tighter. A part of him did want it to last, wanted to stay in that moment forever, but he knew that they had to get it over with.

Orange was jacked, that much was true. He worked out hard for the muscles that he rarely used, but he still felt small in Chuck’s arms. It drove him a little wild, he could probably pick him up and drive right into him.

“Gonna take you back to our room after this, we’re skipping dinner. Gonna bend you over every fucking surface, get my dick in your perfect little ass, OC.” Chuck panted out, bending over to say the words right into Orange’s ear. “Chuck…” He panted, sounding strained, and Chuck nipped at the shell of his ear. “Yeah? You like hearing what I’m gonna do to you, baby?”

Orange nodded quickly and Chuck let out another huffed laugh, tilting his face down to press their mouths together in something that might’ve been a kiss if they weren’t otherwise distracted by trying to get off. Instead of a kiss, it was more or less something to muffle the soft noises coming from Orange’s mouth.

Who knew that he’d be so loud? Maybe he wasn’t even loud, maybe it was just the fact that they were in a semi-public place, but every soft moan and gasp sounded like a scream in the otherwise quiet air. And Chuck wasn’t exactly quiet either, biting back his own moans.

“We ain’t gonna leave that hotel room for nothing, Orange. Now that I’ve got my hands on you, I’m not gonna stop until we pass out, and then I’m gonna start the moment we wake back up.” “At home?” “You know it, baby.” Chuck said, groaning when Orange shuddered against him.

Despite the noises that he had been making, it took a few seconds to realize that Orange had cum. He painted Chuck’s chest with white, shaking in his arms and jerking himself through it. The realization had Chuck cumming as well, spurting hot cum in the place where their bodies connected.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, tilting to press their foreheads together as they panted together in the afterglow of their shared orgasm.

And then Orange was laughing, a soft huff, and Chuck was worried that he did something wrong. Or that Orange just thought of what had happened between them as some sort of joke, that it didn’t mean the same to him.

But Orange leaned forward, kissing him again, a soft brush of lips against lips.

“You said the s-word.” He murmured and Chuck had to laugh too, cupping his face. “What can I say, OC, you just bring it out of me,” Chuck said, “now, c’mon, we both need to shower. I made some promises to you that I intend to keep.”

He figured that they couldn’t shower together if they actually wanted to get out of there, not to mention the very pressing issue of someone walking in. But he couldn’t resist slapping Orange’s ass before walking away, grin spreading over his face as he went over to his own shower and started the water.

When he chanced a glance over at Orange, he saw him washing himself quickly, desire to leave overriding his laziness. Chuck moved quickly as well because he absolutely intended to keep all of those promises.

As his stomach grumbled and Orange’s practically called back in response, he figured that they could break one of those promises.

After all, they’d need the energy.

#my writing #otp: gentleman's club #let's go with that for a shipname #nsfw/#long post/

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huphilpuffs · 6 years ago

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chapter: 18/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 4711 rating: mature warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: a huge thanks goes to @obsessivelymoody for beta reading this for me!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

Dan keeps his promise to wear a shirt.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, porcelain digging into the bones of his ass as he stares at himself in the mirror. The t-shirt he threw on scoops low over his chest, showing off the jut of his collarbones. He pulled on his tightest pair of skinny jeans, even though squeeze of fabric around his legs hurts. He even managed to bend down to pull socks onto his feet.

It’s the most like himself he’s looked in a long time, he thinks, except for one thing.

He brings a hand up and runs it through his hair. He managed to shower, if sitting in the bathtub letting water beat down on your back is considered showering, so it’s wet and extra curly. One strand falls over his forehead, and Dan wraps it around his finger, frowning at his reflection.

It’s growing too long. He needs to get it cut but that requires leaving the house and sitting up for a while and holding his head steady and Dan’s not entirely sure he can manage all that right now.

He’s not sure he can manage to straighten it either.

Dan’s wrists crack when he pushes himself off the edge of the tub. He tries to comb the curls back over his head so they look a little less like a mop, but they just tumble back over his cheeks.

Frustration wells behind his eyes, stinging like tears. Dan squeezes them shut, reminding himself that it’s nothing. It’s just hair. It never looks how he wants it to, anyway. It never really has.

But still, when he opens them again, his vision is distorted by tears. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, turning away from his reflection to stomp out of room.

Phil’s standing there when he gets out, leaning against the wall opposite the toilet door as though he’d been waiting. He probably had been, Dan thinks.

“You okay?” asks Phil.

Dan shrugs one shoulder. “Can you do me a favour?” he asks.

“Of course.”

Phil smiles, warm and genuine, so Dan doesn’t feel bad when he asks: “Can you straighten my hair for me?”

A moment later, he’s sitting on the sofa, legs drawn up beneath him so the denim of his jeans scrapes at the round of his knees. The armrest digs a bit into his spine, and he lets his head fall against the cushions as Phil plugs in his straightener and sets it on the coffee table to let it warm.

They don’t speak. Dan’s growing used to it, Phil’s quiet acceptance that sometimes Dan needs help. To the fact that he doesn’t need to explain or defend himself, not anymore.

“Okay, it’s warm enough,” says Phil.

Dan sits up straighter. “Don’t burn me.”

“I won’t.”

Phil’s fingers carefully slide into his hair. He tugs a few knots free, slow and gentle, palm cradling the top of Dan’s head where dizziness tingles when his blood pressure drops. Dan leans back, feeling his hum before he hears it, as Phil’s thumb sweeps across where his hair is combed forward into his fringe.

“I like the curls,” says Phil, so quiet Dan’s not sure he’s meant to hear it. “They’re cute.”

Dan feels his cheeks go hot, flushing pink. He dips his head forward, and Phil’s palm drifts along his head, fingers carding through tangled strands of Dan’s hair, and affection seeps into his chest, comfortable, nice.

He almost doesn’t want Phil to pull away to grab the straightener, but they have guests coming over. So when Phil’s hand falls away, he swallows back his protest.

On the coffee table, Dan’s phone vibrates.

He tilts his head back again, and lets Phil play with the hair at the base of his skull before he straightens the first little bit.

---

Dan escapes to the bathroom again afterwards.

Phil’s straightener has cooled and he spent careful minutes adjusting the strands of Dan’s fringe so they fall perfectly over his forehead. Dan can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when he sees his reflection. Phil straightened it better than Dan’s been able to for a long time, slow and attentive so it falls perfectly over his ears, cuts nicely across his forehead.

Tears burn behind his eyes again, his heart racing and light and happy.

Dan sucks in a breath, and he reaches for his phone before he can think too much about how gently Phil’s fingers had drifted across his skin. The texts he ignored light up the screen when he turns it on.

Taylor: i can’t believe you’re making me socialize howell i became your friend to avoid exactly this

Taylor: stop ignoring me

Taylor: i just left you better not be naked when i get there

Taylor: actually i’ve seen that before

Taylor: phil better not be naked when i get there

Dan laughs, a little wet with tears unshed. He swipes his thumb across the screen, types out a hasty reply.

Dan: im unfrinding you

Taylor: good it’ll save me the hassle of socializing

Dan: aren’t you driving

Taylor: red light

Dan: pretty sure that’s still illegal

Taylor: you don’t even drive

He rolls his eyes, catching his reflection in the mirror. There’s a smile on his face, and his hair is normal. He’s dressed, and though his arms feel heavy and his back aches, he feels normal, just for a moment.

Just for one night, he hopes.

Dan: you don’t need to come if you don’t want to

It takes Taylor a moment to respond. A moment Dan spends adjusting his shirt and pulling his jeans up so they show a little less of his boxers. He reminds himself that he’s driving, that she probably hasn’t decided to go back to a dorm he knows she hates.

Even on her worst days, Taylor usually pulls through for Dan.

His phone vibrates on the countertop.

Taylor: i want to

Taylor: i’m happy for you

Dan lets out a shuddering breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

---

Ian shows up first.

Phil bounces on his toes and fidgets as he goes to get the door, and returns with his head dipped, his crooked smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Ian, this is Dan,” he says, voice a little too quiet. “Dan, Ian.”

He’s a lot like Phil, Dan notices. Ian’s hair is far shorter and brown, and he has wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His shoulders are a little more square, but his body’s still long and lanky. He looks a little more comfortable in his skin, in the space, than Phil does.

And way more comfortable than Dan feels.

He pushes himself to stand, stepping forward to shake Ian’s hand.

“Hi,” says Dan, a little too high and far too awkward. “It’s, um, nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” says Ian. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Phil’s told me a lot about you.”

“Oh. He’s, uh, told me a lot about you, too.” Except Phil hasn’t. Dan’s too aware of that, of the fact that Phil’s been too busy dealing with Dan and his issues. “Sorry for intruding on your plans. I know you used to do these movie nights more often.”

Ian shrugs. “You’re not intruding,” he says, like it’s true. “I get that things have been, uh, difficult for you.”

His cheeks go a little pink then, and Dan watches Phil nudge Ian with his shoulder. It’s the first sign of awkwardness Ian’s shown since he walked through the door, and Dan’s stomach twists painfully tight.

It’s been years since Dan’s felt somewhat comfortable talking to people. Since he first realized that, no, most teenage boys don’t feel like they’re dying after gym class. That most boys focused on things other than how their body seemed to gradually be falling apart. That he was missing out on everything all the normal kids did.

Around that same time, people stopped knowing how to talk to him, too.

“It’s been fine,” says Dan.

Over the years, he’s learned that most people want to hear that, not the truth.

But Ian offers him a smile that reminds Dan too much of Phil. “You don’t need to lie,” he says. “I might not– I’m not as good as Phil with stuff, but I get that it can’t be easy.”

Dan nods dumbly. His gaze cuts to Phil, whose smiling at them both like this is exactly what he wanted. Dan can’t help but smile too.

---

Taylor gets there only a few minutes later.

Her hair is swept up in a bun today, sitting messy atop her head. She’s wearing an oversized sweater and a pair of leggings, and Dan recognizes the outfit from silent days spent sitting in his dorm room, when neither of them were quite okay enough to be people.

He stands, pulls her into a hug. “You didn’t have to come,” he whispers, mumbling the words against the fabric of her hood.

“Told you I wanted to,” she whispers back.

Something heavy and nauseating settles in his stomach, anyway. He wants to ask her about therapy, about how classes have been going, about if she’s finally accepted that a science degree isn’t for her any more than a law degree was for him. But he pulls away and Phil’s already saying hello, reaching out to shake her hand.

Taylor’s smile doesn’t seem fake. The tightness in Dan’s chest loosens.

It’s awkward for a moment, as Phil introduces Ian to Taylor and Dan introduces Taylor to Ian and none of them know each other quite well enough for it to flow naturally. Phil plays with his fringe and Dan plucks at the hem of his t-shirt and Taylor doesn’t meet Ian’s eyes when she shakes his hand, but Ian doesn’t seem to mind.

And then Phil’s ushering them into the lounge. His laugh comes out tight, nervous. Taylor stares at the floor. Ian offers Phil a smile that Dan’s pretty sure means more than he can decipher.

“So, how’d you guys meet?” asks Ian.

He’s looking at Dan, gaze flicking to Taylor.

“At uni,” says Dan. “I was the awkward sick one and she–” He coughs, swallows. “We were the only introverts in our area. Uh, you guys?”

“He stole my first girlfriend.” It’s Phil this time. He’s dropped onto the arm rest next to Dan, and his hand falls to rest on Dan’s shoulder.

Taylor’s gaze flicks to where it landed, a quiet chuckle falling from her lips.

“You were with her for a week,” says Ian.

“Still.”

Ian rolls his eyes, looking away from Phil to look at Dan and Taylor instead. “He hated me for a while,” he says.

“You stole my girlfriend.”

“Until he realized we actually had a lot in common,” Ian continues, as though Phil didn’t say a word. “Both film nerds, both pretty introverted, that kind of thing. And he went and started fancying someone else.”

Phil laughs, low and hearty. “It was college,” he says. “That’s what people do in college.”

“I missed that part of college,” says Dan.

Ian’s eyes crinkle, a little too amused. Taylor’s staring at her lap. Phil’s hand squeezes his shoulder, just tight enough to be pointed.

“The fancying blokes part?” he asks, voice a little quiet.

“Oh.” The weight of it settles on Dan’s ribs, a question lingering in the air. Ian’s smiling at him like he doesn’t care what Dan says, and Taylor glances up from the pattern on her leggings. Phil squeezes his shoulder, gentle and comforting, and Dan knows he could say he missed that part too.

He did. He missed all of it, curled up in bed, the demands of his body too great to think about much else.

But he tilts his head up, catches the softness of Phil’s smile, the gleaming in his eyes.

“Oh,” Dan repeats. “I, uh, saved that for uni.”

It’s not entirely true. Dan’s not thought about it enough to know it is, but it feels right, feels like fancying blokes is something he’s done in a distant sort of way that’s faded into a blur at the edge of his mind.

And it feels like it’s right here, right now, pressing against his ribs.

Phil’s smile widens, his thumb rubbing a circle over where the neckline of Dan’s t shirt falls on his shoulder. Dan looks away, feeling his cheeks flushing pink when Taylor looks up just enough to grin at him.

---

They order pizza for dinner and play Mario Kart with greasy fingers, sipping beer between races.

Phil and Ian move the coffee table towards the TV, and Phil builds a nest on the floor out of his pillows and duvet. They’re blue and green, Dan notices, a lot like the ones draped over his childhood bed. Taylor gets Dan’s duvet, the one he rarely uses because it often feels too heavy on his bones, and wraps herself in it.

Ian almost beats Dan at Mario Kart. Taylor beats Phil.

The game ends when the pizza box is mostly empty, spare for the pepperoni Taylor picked off each of her slices. Dan comes in first. Phil pouts as he comes in fourth, just two points behind Taylor.

Phil’s sitting on the floor with Ian, and his head falls back to rest against the sofa, right next to where Dan’s ankles cross. His fringe falls to the side, flopping over the high of his cheekbone, and his bottom lip pokes out, eyes going wide. Dan doesn’t care enough about the cutscene he’s seen a thousand times to look away.

Phil drops his Wii remote, bringing his hand up to slide it between the sofa cushion and Dan’s leg, his thumb snagging where the fabric is snug around Dan’s ankle.

“Your Mario Kart tips aren’t working.”

Dan huffs out a laugh. “You’re not doing them right, is the real problem.”

Phil rolls his eyes, hand slipping away. Dan’s nerves tingle with its absence, a small buzz of discomfort. He swallows, turning to catch Taylor’s smile, watching Phil stand in his peripheral.

“You guys choose a movie,” he says. “I’m gonna make popcorn.”

Ian hums. “Popcorn’s his favourite,” he says, once Phil’s a few steps away.

Dan frowns. Phil hasn’t eaten popcorn at all since Dan’s moved in, unless he snacks on it before work. He swallows against the thought and feels the dull burn of it in his throat. The reminder that his being here is probably exactly why Phil hasn’t eaten popcorn in so long.

No movie nights with Ian to justify it, and a flatmate who can hardly swallow some days.

The microwave beeps in the kitchen. “Oh,” Dan hears himself whisper.

Taylor wraps herself tighter in his duvet, tugging the blanket up to her chin until she’s practically drowning in fabric. Ian’s staring at the TV, at the piles of plastic cases underneath it.

“You guys can choose the movie,” says Dan. “You’re the guests after all.”

They start talking then. Dan lets his head sink back and listens. He learns that Phil and Ian are horror movie fans. And that Taylor took film in secondary school. And that Phil used to make what Ian calls “these creepy videos” for uni assignments a few years ago. He didn’t know any of that before.

By the time Phil returns to the lounge, they’ve decided on The Shining, and Phil’s face absolutely lights up when he hears. He hands Ian one bowl of popcorn, telling him to set up the film, and sets the other in the space between Dan and Taylor. He goes back to get them each a second beer before dropping back onto the floor.

His hand wedges itself under Dan’s legs again, squeezes near where bone juts at his ankle.

“You okay?” he whispers.

Dan nods. His chest is tight, but it has been for days now, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s his body or something else that’s rebelling this time.

Phil frowns. “Tell me if your sore, okay?”

He nods again, trying to force a smile just as Ian flicks off the lounge light, and the room goes dark.

---

Ian, Phil and Taylor have all seen this film before.

Dan has not.

Anticipation has curled it’s way up his spine, prickling and painful and keeping his breath caught in his lungs. His toes, he realizes, are curled tight so they dig into the skin of his thigh and make his calves start to ache. He clutches the fleece of his blanket between his hands, holding it up to his chest, even though he refuses to hide from the film when everyone else is laughing.

Something swirls at the very edge of his vision, but when Dan’s gaze darts towards it, there’s only black.

He swallows back a huff. It’s stupid, he thinks. It’s a film.

Except Dan’s never liked the dark, especially not since the first night he spent awake and restless with a spinning head and body so sore he couldn’t have stood if he tried. It’s best for his eyes some days, but he doesn’t like it.

Something flashes on screen, and he sucks in a harsh breath.

The muscles in his chest spasm. He swallows back a whimper, pressing his fist to the ache so his knuckles dig into the ridges between his bones. Ian’s laughing and Taylor glances at him, frowning, and Phil’s hand returns to the sofa, catches the narrow of Dan’s ankle.

He squeezes once. Dan exhales and hopes no one can hear how it shudders.

Phil must, though, because his head falls back against the sofa. The TV casts awkward shadows across his features. His hand drifts along Dan’s leg until his fingers are slipping under the fabric of his jeans, and he squeezes again.

He mouths something. It takes Dan a moment to realizes he’s being told to breathe.

So he does, like Taylor and Ian aren’t sitting right next to them. Dan presses his fist harder against his chest and imagines the way Phil’s fingertips would drift along his spine. Phil’s still mouthing something, probably numbers, and Dan watches until the air presses hard against his ribs.

Phil squeezes his leg again to tell him to exhale.

Dan does, and does it all again, and again, and again until it doesn’t hurt anymore and his body sinks back against the sofa. Taylor’s not looking at him anymore. Dan’s not sure if Ian ever was. Phil turns back to the film slowly, but his fingers stay pressed against Dan’s skin.

It happens again at the climax of the film. But that time Dan lurches back and his spine cracks and tears well in his eyes. Taylor stares and Ian notices and Phil sets the bowl of popcorn that’s migrated onto his lap aside so he can sit up straighter, turn to face Dan.

“I’m fine,” Dan mumbles.

Ian keeps looking at him for a second before looking away. Taylor only looks away when something on screen catches her attention. Phil keeps staring, now rubbing up and down Dan’s leg as much as his skinny jeans will allow.

The fabric is rough over his skin. He realizes only when his chest heaves around a breath that his shirt has started to burn. He takes a sip of his beer to distract himself.

Shortly after that, the film ends. Phil still hasn’t looked back at the screen.

Ian stands to flick the light back on. Taylor untangles herself from Dan’s duvet. Phil only stands when he seems to realize their guests are leaving. Dan’s knees crack and his ankles wobble under his weight when he forces himself to his feet.

He knows he’s limping as he walks to the door, can feel the unyielding tension in his left knee and the tightness of his lower back. Taylor hugs him so quick and gentle her fingers barely flit against his shoulders, he side brushing gently against his.

She hugs Phil tighter, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Dan watches her whisper something against Phil’s shoulder, and something knots low in his stomach. Phil squeezes her tighter then, but over the top of her head, just next to her bun, his eyes cut to Dan.

Dan looks away. Ian’s standing in front of him, hands wedged in his pocket, one shoulder pressed against the wall. He smiles at Dan, then at Phil and Taylor, and then at Dan again.

“This was fun,” he says.

He’s a little awkward, like Phil is, like Taylor is, like Dan is.

“Yeah,” he answers.

Ian’s mouth quirks into a sad sort of smile. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well. Next time we’ll choose a better movie, okay?” he says, like it’s nothing. “Phil loves Speed.”

“So do I,” blurts Dan.

Ian chuckles. “You’re good for him, you know,” he says. His face goes serious, and he holds his hand out between them, his grip loose when Dan takes it.

He’s good for me too, he wants to say, because Ian isn’t saying anything else. Dan’s mind flits to Phil’s parents again, the questions that have swirled in his stomach since they left Rawtenstall, Ian would know, he realizes, if they’ve been best friends since college.

He’d know a lot of things Dan doesn’t know.

Ian lets go of his hand, smiling again. He goes over to Phil, gives him the quick kind of hug that ends with them patting each other’s shoulders, before waving goodbye. He holds the door open for Taylor on the way out, lets it fall closed behind both of them.

The knot at the base of Dan’s spine throbs.

A whimper aches in his chest.

Phil’s arm is wrapped around him in an instant.

---

Dan ends up back on the sofa, legs drawn up in front of him so he can flatten his chest against his thighs and let his spine stop holding his weight. His knee presses hard to the bottom of his chin, digging painfully into the bone of his jaw. His eyes are starting to burn, tired and teary and yet he keeps the locked on Phil.

The flat is weird. It feels empty, suddenly, with Taylor and Ian gone. The end credits of the film still light up the telly, but no sound filters through the lounge.

Phil bends down, picking up a pair of empty beer bottles from the floor. Dan can still feel the phantom burn of weak liquor in his throat.

It’s been a really long time since he’s had a drink.

He watches Phil set all the empty bottles on the counter by the sink. Over the course of the night, he must have pushed his fringe back into a messy quiff. His shirt’s a little twisted around his waist and one leg of his jeans has rolled up to his calf, probably as high as the narrow cuff can do.

Dan drags his chin over his own jeans. He wants them off now. They dig into his stomach, sitting like this. The fabric is too scratchy against his skin.

But he doesn’t move.

Phil returns to the lounge. “I’ll be right back,” he mutters, leaning down to pick up his duvet and pillows up from the floor. The blanket folds over his arms, puffs up into his face.

He looks small, Dan thinks. His hair suits him that way.

Something twists in Dan’s stomach. Phil returns from his bedroom. There’s a frown drawing at his cheeks, and though he can’t be sure, Dan thinks it might’ve been there since the first scare that had the muscles around his ribs spasming. Phil never does like seeing him in pain.

He drops onto the sofa next to Dan, already reaching out to coast a hand across Dan’s back.

His skin prickles. Dan’s not entirely sure it’s with pain.

“I’m sorry,” mumbles Phil.

That thing in his stomach grows tighter, and Dan lets his face press even harder against the bony jut of his knees.

“This was my idea.” says Dan.

Phil shrugs. “I’m still sorry.”

His palm drifts along Dan’s back, fingers tripping over each ridge in Dan’s spine as though he’s counting them. It’s feather-light and warm and Dan has to turn and press his eyes to his knees to keep from crying. His chest feels empty and too full all at once, ribs shuddering when he tries to suck in a breath.

“Can I do anything to help?”

It takes Dan a moment to realize Phil’s talking about his pain. His chest aches. It feels like they’re always talking about his pain.

“Dunno,” he mumbles.

“Does rubbing it help your back too?”

Dan shrugs. He really doesn’t know. The angle’s too awkward so he can never massage the ache properly, not without hurting his wrist and shoulder and arm and neck and by then it’s not worth it to soothe his back.

“Want me to try?” asks Phil.

“Sure.”

He doesn’t expect Phil to stand then, or for him to hold a hand out as though to help Dan to his feet. “You should lay down,” says Phil, and Dan almost suggests he lay down on the sofa, but Phil’s eyes are gleaming as though he might cry and Dan’s curling his fingers into Phil’s palm.

They walk to Dan’s bedroom hand in hand, like this is normal. He wonders, fleetingly, if they had more to drink than a few beers. He feels drunk now, his mind distracted and buzzing and taking a moment too long to realize that laying down in bed means taking off his shirt and jeans and Phil’s already standing in the room next to him.

Dan doesn’t check to see if Phil’s looking as he peels his skinny jeans off his legs, or when he struggles to get his shirt over his head against the pain.

Phil must have looked away, he supposes, or he probably would have offered to help.

Dan settles onto the mattress slowly. Half his bed is covered in clothes he doesn’t have the energy to fold and his laptop and the DS he rarely uses anymore. Phil doesn’t seem to mind. He leaves his own shirt and jeans on and sits on the edge of the bed.

It should be uncomfortable, Dan thinks. But he’s spent weeks wearing nothing but his pants while Phil was fully clothed. He’s gotten used to the soothing touch of Phil’s hand to his bare skin.

He’s missed it.

Phil’s fingers press to the base of Dan’s spine, where he knows the skin dimples.

“This okay?” he asks.

Dan nods. He presses his face into his pillow and tries not to focus on how strange this should be. Normal flatmates don’t do this.

Normal people don’t need this.

He swallows. The pressure in his chest is back, spreading up until he can feel tears behind his eyes. Phil’s careful and sweet and Dan shouldn’t need this but every part of his body aches with gratitude as acutely as it always does with illness.

“I had fun tonight,” he says into the pillow. “We should do it again.”

Phil’s touch stutters over his spine. “You did?”

Dan hums. The pillow is starting to suffocate him, so he turns his head. He can see the bottle of sleeping pills on his nightstand, but his bones feel heavy and he’s not sure he’ll need them, for once.

“We should watch a different movie next time, not horror,” he says. “We can invite Taylor and Ian again. We could play more video games next time.”

“I lost all the video games,” says Phil.

He sounds like he’s pouting. Dan wishes he could see. But he’s lying mostly naked in his bed and Phil’s massage has turned more into something … softer and Dan’s heart lurches against his ribs, muscles spasming again.

It must be visible, because Phil’s fingers coast along his side, drift over the base of his rib cage before trailing to his back again.

“We can do it again,” says Phil.

Dan hums. He doesn’t say another word until he falls asleep to the feeling of Phil’s fingers tracing gentle patterns against his skin.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #flares #callie writes words #my laptop and i are back from war

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maxhoemo · 6 years ago

Text

Joji and the Pussycats

im sorry idk how to write people writing music so I just made this instead...

(it’s literally cc in the josie and the pussycats world its so dumb)

“Another gig, another shit payment... Sometimes I wonder why we even try...” Max sighed, packing up his guitar.

“Come on Max. We play music cause we love it. It’s not about getting rich,” Joji countered.

“Sure, I know...But we need something! It’s just so unfair, I don’t want to work at the record store my whole life....”

“Well...” Ian tried. “We’re out here, playing. We’re putting ourselves out here, we’ve got our stuff online. What else can we really do?”

“Guess you’re right....” Max frowned, as Ian pulled their van into the driveway of their shared house. They unloaded their equipment back into the house, Max feeling disappointed and frustrated.

---

Meanwhile! At Cancerous Trash Music Inc.

“I can’t believe this!” The blonde executive screamed into her phone. “You killed another band! Was it at least on purpose this time!?”

“Tana, relax. I did what had to be done...”

“Yeah, great going, Keem! We don’t have a goddamn band for the Arena Show! And we cannot afford another TanaCon disaster!”

“Well, I mean, that was mostly your fault...”

“Shut the fuck up! If you don’t find a new band within 24 hours I am going to break both your legs!”

---

“Oh hey Chad, nice of you to show up...” Max glared as Chad and Jack came strolling threw the front door.

“What’s your problem?”

“You’re our manager, cunt...” Ian chastised. “You’re supposed to at least show up to our shows!”

“Well, Jack and me we’re busy...” he defended.

“Yeah, buying matching pink outfits by the looks of it...” Joji snarked. While they weren’t exactly matching, both guys were dressed in various shades of pink.

“Pink is the new yellow,” Jack shrugged.

“Ugh. You two have more money then you know what to do with....” Joji shook his head.

“So, Ian...” Jack started. “Given any more thought to me maybe joining the band?”

“Uhh.... Well, jeez, Jack. You don’t play anything or anything, you know?” Ian tried to be polite, but it was difficult.

“Yeah, I know. I was thinking I could be a dancer for you guys! Check this out!” Jack gave the band an enthusiastic dab.

“Hey...That’s...Pretty good.... We’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay, Ian,” Jack smiled at him.

“Look guys, don’t go crowing at me for being a bad manager or whatever. Check out what I just got you guys from City Hall. A busking permit!”

“Busking?” Max asked. “You want us to go play out on the street corner for change like we’re bloody homeless or something?”

“Well Max, you already look the part,” Jack quipped.

---

“I’m nervous about this...” Ian admitted. Driving the van, the group were headed to a meeting with Cancerous Trash Music Inc. “The guy barely heard us play. He spotted us on the street-corner and offered us a record deal...”

“It seems a little suspicious...” Joji admitted.

“But Ian,” Max interjected. “You said we have to make things happen for ourselves, and we did... What do we have to lose?”

“We either become huge stars, or we’re right back where we started,” Joji said.

“There’s always the possibility we become moderately successful.”

----

“Alright, these guys are fucking perfect I swear! They’ve got a great look. They’ll look great on the cover of J-14 or some shit.”

“Look, I know you aren’t good for much with your minuscule little pee-sized brain, but I hope to fucking god that these three dumb cunts are in the fucking studio!”

“O-on their way right now!”

“Good! Record a fucking song and shove it on the air! I’ve got a meeting with some failing old media morons!” Tana slammed down her phone.

----

Max was taken aback. He had never been in a recording studio like this before. It was pristine, everything was brand new. It was too perfect, as if it were artificial or something. “Wow...” he whispered under his breath.

“It’s all state of the art,” Keem said. “Latest greatest technology, boooiiii!”

“What does it sound like?” Joji asked.

“Well, go on and play something fella’s. I’ll show you!” The executive crossed his arms over his chest, giving the trio a confident, and slightly unnerving smile.

Still, the boys picked up the brand new instruments that were provided and played one of their songs. Just some silly breakup song they had written back in high school. It was one of their oldest, so they had it perfected at this point.

“And now, we’ll play it back...” Keem grinned. The boys followed him over to the sound board.

“Holy shit...” Ian exclaimed, listening to the playback. He had never heard them sound so clear and....Huge... It was nothing compared to the GarageBand laptop recordings they’d done at home.

“I want a Big Mac…”

Ian looked over at his friend who had suddenly spoken. “Max, you’re a vegetarian...”

“I know, but I just want one!”

“Okay….” Joji agreed, nodding his head to the music. “As long as we can stop by Foot Locker for a new pair of green Tretrons!”

“Jerkin’ Tretrons are the new Adidas!” Ian exclaimed.

“Yeah, sounds like that’s working really nicely....” Keem grinned, turning the sound off.

As soon as he did, Ian clutched his head, looking over at his two friends. Like him they looked slightly dazed.

“Two weeks ago, nobody knew who the fuck you were. And now you have a number one hit song?” Jack asked, looking Max up and down suspiciously. “It seems a little suspicious...”

“Suspicious? That’s the business!” Keem exclaimed from the background. Jack just rolled his eyes.

“You’re only jealous.” Max answered. “You’ve always wished you were in the band, and now you see us have a little success, and you wanna ruin it...”

“Whatever,” Jack dismissed. “I’m just saying. I turn on the radio, there’s Max. I go outside, there’s Max on a billboard or an advert. Max on TV, Max all over the front page of YouTube....”

“Oh god, are you jealous!” Max laughed.

“Alright ladies, enough yammering. Time for everyone to shut their pussy-hole’s!”

“Well, I don’t know about these guys but I don’t have a pussy hole...” Joji started, but was quickly cut off by Keem again.

“You guys have to get ready for your record release party! Tana went all out, and she cannot wait to meet you guys. She has been talking non stop about this party for Max and Joji.”

“What about me?” Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh...” Keem glanced at his phone, pretending to check something. “No, doesn’t look like you were invited, Ian. Well, I guess you can tag along too if you really want.”

“What about us?” asked Chad.

“No.”

“Wow, Max...You look amazing...” Ian was a bit taken aback when he met Max at the party.

“Thanks...” he laughed nervously. “I mean, they sent this outfit over....”

“Yeah, but...You wear it well....”

“So, did you guys meet Tana yet?”

“Yeah,” Joji answered. “She’s nuts.”

Ian nodded in agreement. “She gives me this...creepy feeling, I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”

“I kind of get that same feeling from everyone here...” Joji added. “It’s all so...Fake...”

“It’s more than that,” Ian went on. “All these people we’ve met in the city, all our fans, everyone, they’re all such sheep. They all dress the same. They talk the same...”

“Well...People are usually sheeps...” Max countered.

“I know. But... I’ve just been thinking. When we did that fan meet and greet, nobody could tell us why they liked our music. They all just liked it. No personal story, no connection. Just ‘Deadly Twister is the new Boyinaband’.”

“Boyinaband? I know that name...” Max said. “He’s that musician from YouTube. He was so big. And then he died in that plane crash....”

“Deadly Twister is the new...” Joji muttered to himself. “That reminds me of something... When we recorded in the studio for the first time...Remember Ian? You said something just like that. We all did.”

“Yeah... That was so weird...”

“Why are those two asking so many questions?” Tana sneered, tapping her long fingernail on the desk as she watched her security footage. “I don’t like that... I want them taken care of... Max is the star anyways. Those two snoop dogs are dead weight and dead meat!”

“Tana... I don’t think Max will play without his friends.”

“Oh no? Well Keem, I think we might persuade him...”

“Ian...” he heard someone whisper from behind him as he was trying to sleep. “Ian... Get up...”

“What’s going on...” He rolled over, seeing Jack at the edge of his bed. “What are you doing?”

“I saw someone...”

“Huh?” Ian asked, taking his glasses from the nightstand and putting them on.

“Someone is creeping around in the hotel room... I’m scared...” he pouted.

“Shit...” Ian rolled out of bed. He didn’t like the sound of that.

“Oh, Ian, I’m scared!” Jack clung to Ian as they checked the room. “Hold me...”

“Be quiet!” Ian whispered.

“Hua! Did you hear that?”

Ian nodded. He looked around for the source of the sound, just as he did, a crash was heard from inside the closet. Ian signalled for Jack to be quiet, tip toeing over to the closet and opening it with a creak. Something was moving under a coat on the ground, but nothing big enough to be a person. He pulled off the coat, annoyed at what he saw. “Goddammit Jack! It’s just your dog!”

“Oh, Klondike! You useless mutt! You ruined everything!” Jack pouted.

“What are you talking about?”

“I told you it wouldn’t work...” Chad smirked, emerging from the kitchenette.

“What the fuck?” Ian questioned.

“Jack wanted to play damsel in distress.”

“Shut up, Chad!” Just as he was about to speak again, the three heard another loud crash. “What was that?”

“Jack...”

“It wasn’t us!” Chad assured.

Ian raised a brow. “It came from the bathroom....”

Ian cautiously opened the door, Jack cowering behind him. He looked around, seeing nothing. He switched on the light. Luckily the bathroom didn’t have any hiding spaces, so it was obvious nobody was there. At least, not anymore.

“Shit, look!” Chad pointed.

“A message on the mirror!” Jack exclaimed.

Ian looked over, taking a few steps towards it. Huge letters, written using the bar soap. “Beware the music...” he read.

“What does that mean...?”

“I don’t know.... But I’m going to find out...”

---

“Alright, hope you’re ready for your press conference!”

“Press conference?” Max asked. “I wasn’t...”

“No, no, no,” Keem interrupted. “Not you, Max. Just Joji and Ian. You know, Tana’s idea. She thinks the public needs to get to know your backup a little better.”

“Backup?” Ian questioned.

“Look, let’s not get caught up in semantics. There’s a car waiting downstairs, come on, you’re gonna be late.”

“Hang on...” Joji protested.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, they’ll be wardrobe at the studio, come on,” he insisted, practically shoving the two of them out the door.

“So...Do I have the day off then?” Max asked.

“Not exactly. Here, just one thing you need to do,” Keem smiled again, that smile that made Max unnerved. “I just need you to listen to the demo for your new single.” He took an ipod shuffle from his pocket, handing it to Max.

“Oh...Well, Okay... What exactly am I listening for...?”

“Just listen very carefully. Trust me, you’ll get the idea.”

---

“What the fuck is going on?” Joji asked, looking around at the barron location they’d been dropped off at.

“This is just an empty warehouse.”

“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this, Ian...”

“Me too. Like, I never got the chance to tell you. Last night, there was this message written on the bathroom mirror. But in the morning, it was gone.”

“What did it say...?”

“It said-”

“Hey dudes, what’s up!?”

Joji and Ian turned around. “Jake Paul?”

“Ricegum?”

“You’re the guys they sent to interview us...?”

“Oh man, it’s Ian and Joji!” Jake shouted.

“You guys have like, the most popularist band in the world,” Rice added.

“What? You mean most popular?” Ian asked.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the word...”

“I don’t get it...” Joji told them. “Why here? There’s no camera....No nothing....”

“Well, that’s the funniest part,” Jake laughed. “We weren’t exactly sent here to interview you.”

“We were sent here to kill you.”

Later that night...

Max was sitting in an arm chair. The new single sounded pretty good. In fact, he couldn’t seem to stop listening to it. God, no wonder he was such an overnight success. He was good.

“Max!”

Max jumped, pulling the earbuds from his ears. Joji and Ian bursting through the door obviously giving him quite a shock.

“What’s going on?”

“Max, Jesus Christ!” Joji panted. “Jake Paul and Ricegum just tried to kill us. And I know that sounds like a joke, but that literally just happened.”

“I think it has something to do with our music. The mirror. Last night. Did Jack and Chad tell you?”

Max only blinked. Giving the two a skeptical look before finally speaking. “...Why did they let you two in here?”

“What...?”

“Max! Are you even listening!?” Ian demanded.

“Yes, Ian... I am listening very carefully. And do you know what I hear? I hear someone glomming on to my talent, and my credit... Our music, Ian? I basically write everything!”

“No, you don’t.” Ian said bluntly. “Someone tried to kill us. We had to steal one of their lambos to get away. What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Nothing is wrong with me. You two on the other hand... Your days are numbered, you know.”

“Max, you’re starting to scare me...” Joji took a step back.

“Ian. How long do you really think you can keep up the act? You’re replaceable. Bass players are a dime a dozen, and you’re not even one of the better ones. I’m the face of the band. I’m the one with the talent. I’m the one with the looks. I don’t even know why I brought you along.”

“So that’s how it is, Max? What? Keem and Tana finally get to you? Or is this how you’ve felt all along?”

“Ian. I don’t need you. I never needed you. Now get out of my hotel room before I call security.”

“Fine!” Ian spat, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him.

“Max...?” Joji asked. “Why are you doing this...? We have more important things to worry about....”

“Oh, what’s the matter George? Is the little emo boy gonna cry? Go on, Joj. Cry for us. Oh, I’d love to see it one last time. One last time just for fun.”

“Shut the fuck up, Max.”

“You talentless fucking loser. I can’t believe you convinced me to keep you around all these years...”

“I’m going to find Ian.”

“Good. I hope you never come back.”

“How’s Max doing?” Tana asked, grin crossing her face.

“Oh, he’s just perfect now,” Keem smiled.

“Excellent! I don’t want anything coming in the way of this arena show! This is bigger than coke, Keem! Bigger than maxi pads or tide pods! Tomorrow night these kids will be exactly where I want them!”

Max was glad Ian and Joji were gone! He didn’t need them! He never did! He strutted down the street, ipod in his ears. He’d never felt this confident in his life. It was probably Ian and Joji holding him back all this time.... Sure, he was glad they weren’t dead. He guessed. But as far as he was concerned, they may as well have been. As Max walked along, he suddenly felt someone grab him from behind. He let out a scream. “Let go of me!” he kicked and flailed, doing everything he could to get away. When he finally broke free, he bolted down the sidewalk as fast as his feet could possibly carry him. He ran, looking straight on ahead. Not looking down, his foot hit a raised edge of concrete, causing him to come crashing to the ground.

He stayed there for a moment, in shock. His hands has scraped across the sidewalk from breaking his fall. His headphones lay on the ground, as well as his wallet. The contents spilled over onto the streets. Quickly, he began to gather them up and put them away. Money, keys, credit card, busking permit...Wait, why did he still have that? He paused for a moment, looking at it.

This busking pass gives permission to Max Stanley, Ian Carter and Joji Miller....

Max blinked. It was only dated two weeks ago.... “Max...Ian...Joji...” he read aloud to himself. He put it away, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. Then he looked at the ipod lying on the ground. He could hear the music faintly as it blasted from the headphones. The sound made him nauseous. He picked up the device and threw it out into the street. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he stood and dusted himself off. As he did so, he came face to face with a billboard across the street. ‘Deadly Twister Twist of Lime Pepsi!’ He looked up into the faces smiling back at him. Fuck...

---

“Ian!? Joji!?” Max called, bursting into the hotel room. He looked around. Nobody but Chad and Jack. “Where the hell are Ian and Joji!?”

“Since when do you care?” Jack asked. “I heard what you said, diva cunt...”

“Look. Something is going on! Joji and Ian are in trouble, and I have to get to the bottom of this! Chad, Jack! You two are gonna help me, come on!”

---

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be in the studio this late...” Chad said warily.

“I don’t care...” Max groaned. The three sat at the mixing board, Max fiddling with different switches and sliders. “There’s something on this track. I know it...I was listening to it and...There’s something about it...”

“What? It sucks?” Jack asked.

“Ugh...” Max groaned in frustration, turning down the volume on the vocals but hearing nothing. He turned down the guitar, then the bass, then the drums and the background vocals until all he heard was silence.

“Great sleuthing, Sherlock Homo....”

“I swear to God, Jack...There’s....” He blinked, and he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye. Something on the monitor was still flashing. Moving up and down. Arching a brow, he scanned the mixing board. Finding only one slider that wasn’t completely at the bottom, he turned it all the way up. As he did, an off-putting, stunting and nasally voice filled the room.

“Freedom is slavery! Conformity is freedom! Deadly Twister is the most rockin’ band in the world!”

“Oh my God...” Jack let out. “I know that voice...That’s... That’s Top15! How the hell did you get him to put this on here!?” He demanded. “You slept with him!”

“Shut up! I didn’t put this on here! Tana did....To brainwash us....”

“You need an H&M vintage tee! Ethan Klein is the new Pewdiepie!”

“I want a vintage tee...And Ethan Klein...”

“Chad!”

“Sorry, it’s just...That voice... It’s so strange, yet...Hypnotic!”

“Exactly! This is why! Everyone dressing alike, talking alike, buying shitty products! They’re selling all this shit through the music!”

“...Deadly Twister is the most rockin’ band in the world!”

“They’re selling us through our music! Well, it stops here! They can’t control people like this! It’s wrong! It’s evil! And Tana... Tana is gonna pay!”

“Oh...Am I now?”

“Shit...It’s Tana...” Chad squaked.

“Fuck!”

“God, Max, you almost got me...” Tana smirked sarcastically. Leading her muscular goons, Max, Chad and Jack in their grip, across the basement of the arena. “Take those two and tie them up over there..” She pointed with a manicured nail, the men leading Jack and Chad away.

“Where are Joji and Ian!?”

“Don’t worry. They’re safe. At the moment...” She laughed.

“What are you gonna do to them!?”

“That all depends on you, cupcake...” She patted his cheek. “Keem!” With a shout and a snap of her fingers, Keem emerged. Ian and Joji bound by their wrists, and lead out by a tight grip to their shoulders.

“Get your hands off me, cunt!”

“Shit Ian, it’s Max!”

“Max!?”

“Ian! Joji!”

“So Max, are you going to co-operate? Or is Deadly Twister going to have to meet the same fate as Dave and Pewdiepie...”

“Pewdiepie...?” Ian asked. “Pewdiepie’s dead...!?”

“Oh, very shortly!” Tana laughed. “Special request from our new client, the Wall Street Journal! In fact, I think I’ve got a late breaking news story about it! Keem...”

He switched on a nearby flatscreen. “What is up, you beautiful bastards? Some really sad news to start off with, unfortunately. Pewdiepie was found dead late last night...”

“See, Maxy?” Tana cooed. “Philly-D here is a good little cupcake. He does what he’s told. And Maxy, I think you should too. Otherwise, well... I think Phil provided us with another advanced news story, huh Keem?”

“Oh, I think you’re right...”

“Ian Carter and Joji Miller, brutally murdered in their dressing rooms.... Police have already confirmed their manager Chad Roberts as the culprit...”

“What!? Why me!?”

“I don’t like you,” Tana shrugged.

“...Max Stanley has yet to release a statement on the tragedy....”

“Well, Max...” Keem grinned. “What is your statement? Did you always know Chad was so unstable? Will you be releasing a memorial album in tribute to your friends?”

Max glared at his captives. “What do you want...!?”

“Simple, dollface. Just go out there, and play the show. It’s the last thing I need you for.”

“Why don’t you just get a new band, and let us go home?”

“You can go back to your shit lives after, I promise. But it’s too late to get a new band. It has to be you, Max.”

“It doesn’t matter...” Max looked over. It was Ian who spoke. “Your threats won’t work, so you might as well kill us. He doesn’t care what happens to us.”

“Ian, that’s not true!” Max shouted. “It wasn’t me, okay!? I didn’t mean anything I said! It was the single! The music! It has subliminal messages, that’s how they’re able to control everyone!”

“Of course! That’s why I wanted those ugly shoes!”

“Beware the music....” Ian paused, the pieces falling into place. “...Oh God, Max, I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, very touching...” Keem rolled his eyes. “I’m tired of all this time wasting!”

“Me too! Someone get me some of that fat cunts hair to plant on these two before we kill them!”

“No! No! I’ll do it, okay!?”

“Good to hear...”

---

Max returned minutes later, after being whisked away to hair and wardrobe.

“Alright Max, ready for your big night? You’re finally a star! Doesn’t it feel great!?”

“Tana...” Max sneered. “You’re gonna have a difficult time with your secret messages once your secret’s out...”

“Oh, please! Who the hell would listen to the insane ramblings of some paranoid, Aussie cunt!?”

“We will!” A voice echoed off the walls. Tana and Keem turned to the source.

“Who the hell are you?” She demanded.

“Someone you thought you’d gotten rid of....”

“Fuck!” Joji shouted. “It’s that Dave guy! I thought you died in a plane crash!”

“So did I!” Tana spat. “What the fuck, Keem!?”

“Oh no, I never boarded that plane. I overslept.”

“Keem!! You fucking idiot, you told me he was dead!”

“You two have to stop with the assassinations...” Another voice rang out. That Swedish accent was unmistakable. The two stepped out of the shadows.

“How the fuck did he get out!?”

“It doesn’t matter! I’m not dealing with these two right now! Congrats, you survived! You shouldn’t have come back, but I’ll have to finish you two off later!” The two turned back to Max, who had taken the opportunity to untie his friends. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’ve got them, Tana...” Keem grabbed Ian by the arm, who quickly gripped him by the wrist with his other hand. Pushing him backward, he punched him hard in the stomach.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long...” Ian smirked.

Tana immediately put her two goons up against them, but Ian, Max, Joji, Chad, Jack, Dave and Felix managed to take down the group in an epic fight scene I’m not going to write because I can’t write fight scenes but trust me it’s pretty cool.

“That’s it Max, you’re finished!” Tana screeched, grabbing a guitar and swinging it above her head like a weapon. Max put his hands up in defence, taking a few steps backwards.

“W-what are you gonna do...? Kill me with the guitar!? Who’s gonna go out there and sing!? You need me, remember!?”

“Need you? Muffin, I created you... And believe me, I can destroy you!” She swung the blunt instrument hard at Max’s head, who dodged just in time. Instead, hitting the sound system behind him. “Oh, no no no...” A loud hiss and feedback emanated through the room. “Keem! Fix it!!”

“Oh god...” Joji covered his ears at the sound. Before anyone could do anything, Top15′s secret message began to ring out.

“Shit....” Tana muttered.

“Tana, is the most coolest, hottest girl in the world!”

“What the fuck....?” Chad muttered.

“Most coolest?” Joji asked.

“Well, it’s the Top15 guy...” Max shrugged.

“Everybody wants to be just like Tana Mongoo!”

“No, no, you aren’t doing it right!” Tana’s own voice came over the speakers. “It’s pronounced Mojo! Do it like this! Every guy wants Tana so bad, and all you girls, you wish I was your best friend! Everyone wants to dress like me, they think I’m hilarious! My abrasive attitude is charming! Not disgusting or anything like that at all! I’m the prettiest, and the most smart! TanaCon was the funnest ever! You wanna go back every year!”

“That’s the secret message that you wanted to send out?” Max asked in disbelief. “That you’re cool!?”

“Shut the fuck up! You’re so pretty and talented! You have no idea what it’s like... To be mocked and ridiculed your whole life!” For the first time, the blonde seemed to be showing some form of vulnerability. In fact maybe a little too much. “All I ever wanted was to be popular! Tell me, is that so bad!?”

“But you’ve been conspiring against the whole world to do it!” Ian shouted. “You’ve been manipulating people, killing! You’re a total sell out on top of it! You’re no better than anyone who’s bullied you! In fact, you’re actually a lot worse, considering....” he gestured around the room. “...All this...”

“Uhhh, Ian...” Jack questioned. “I’m lost. What exactly is the point you’re tryng to make? I mean, what’s the moral of the story here?”

“I think the moral of the story is...” Chad spoke up, “...That we should be happy with who we are. This whole time we’ve been spending money on expensive clothes to try and impress people? Never made me happy. No! Happ - -Oh, my God…..Happiness is on the inside! I’m not this.” He ripped off his shirt, throwing it on the ground with force. “ I’m not what I wear. I’m not what I wear!”

“Wow. That’s beautiful Chad,” Joji smiled.

“What the fuck is going on here....?” a man in a suite asked, coming across the entire scene.

“Who the fuck is this?” Felix questioned.

“I’m Agent Smith, I’m with the government.”

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” Max ran up to him. “Tana and Keem over there, have been using their music to brainwash people. To make them buy things and think things....”

“....What!?”

“Oh come on,” Keem laughed nervously. “You guys knew about this the entire time...”

“No, no, I can assure you the government knew nothing of any brainwashing... You two are under arrest...”

“They totally knew...” Ian shook his head, watching the two record moguls be dragged away.

“Now what?” asked Max.

“Well...” Chad, now completely naked, came up between the two and put an arm around each of them. “I think you’ve got a show to play...”

---

Max looked out into the crowd. The biggest crowd he had ever seen. He looked to Ian, then to Joji. They smiled at him with encouragement. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the microphone. “Umm...Wow...Hi...” The crowd cheered. But Max frowned. They’d all been manipulated. “Umm... I know...I know you guys came out because you heard something on our album that you liked....” They cheered again. “Well... We’re gonna play something different tonight. It’s cool if you like it, it’s okay if you don’t. Just...Decide for yourselves...” As Max started up the first few chords to a new song they’d recently written, his friends soon followed. The crowd seemed unsure at first, but before long they seemed to get into the groove of the song. Max couldn’t believe it. They liked them for them!

As the song came to a close, the crowd was losing it. Screaming, jumping up and down with pure excitement. “Max, Max!” Ian shouted into his microphone. He looked just as hopped up as the crowd.

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell you something! I don’t know when else, or how else to tell you! But I feel really fucking good right now so I’m gonna say it! Max... I love you!”

The crowd erupted in cheers.

“Ian!? I love you too! I always have!”

“Oh wow... I never thought you felt the same!”

“Of course I do!” Stepping forward, bass still in hand, Ian kissed Max the best he could in their position. Again, the crowd cheered. Max just grinned in shock disbelief.

“Ohhhh....!” Jack whaled, watching the scene unfold on stage. “it isn’t fair...”

“Hey...”

Jack looked up, Felix now by his side. “Hey...”

“You know, I always thought you were pretty cute...” he said, placing his arm around Jack.

Jack grinned. “Same to you...”

“Do all ya’ll motherfuckers want another song!?” Joji screamed into his mic. The crowd shrieked.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Max practically jumped in place. “Joji fucking Miller on the drums! Ian mother-fucking Carter on bass!”

“And this bitch on guitar is the love of my goddamn life! Max Mother FUCKKkkkker!!!”

And they all lived happily ever after. Probably. Maybe. I’m not sure. But probably.

#writing #this is so dumb #maxian #sort of #a little bit

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waitinginthedarke · 7 years ago

Text

He’ll be wrong, for you.

A BTS/Kim Taehyung Fanfiction Summary : What happens when you take on Kim Taehyung… Type: Mafia!AU (BTS)

********************Prologue********************* Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Why was he allowed to look so perfectly like some kind of avenging angel in that alley way, whilst you looked like some cheap knock off Lara Croft doll?

‘You don’t look pleased to see me, Sweetheart.’

And he needed to stop with that sickly sweet, deep honey tone if he wanted to keep his head.

‘Should I be?’

You struggle to hide your smirk in response to his mildly put out expression, the amused scoff that he does as you glance back down at your target for the evening grating on your nerves a little as you try to think up an excuse that would satisfy Kyuho as to why you didn’t have his money, but you did have the dead body of the man who stole it.

‘Ah,…are you upset that I caused you to accidentally kill the man you’ve been spending your evening with?’ he asks, a thinly concealed layer of amusement in his tone which has you snapping your attention back up to him, a small growl leaving you as you turn your body towards him and walk over till you were stood toe to toe with him. Your heart stutters slightly in your chest with your sudden close proximity to him, but the smirk that lingers in your line of sight pushes for you to proceed with the words that were bubbling on the tip of your tongue.

‘For your information, this was my last job of the night. All I had to do was obtain the money this guy had stolen from my boss, warn him not to double cross him again, and then I could go home. But now? Now I have to clean up this mess- which, might I add, is the worst thing in the fucking world... and then I have to go back to Kyuho and explain why I don’t have his money, and why I managed to kill the man who stole it without getting information on where it is before I did so, which he will inevitably scream at me for. So,... yeah, im upset that you fucked up my night. Thanks a bunch-‘ you snarl, pursing your lips angrily as your eyes graze his handsomely perfect face, before you mentally kick yourself for staring and make to walk away from him-

-only to turn back towards him with his next proposal.

‘What if I were to give you the money that Kyuho wants?’

You stare at him.

‘What?’ you ask blankly, mouth hanging open slightly in your astonishment, and you can only watch him as he smiles mysteriously to himself, looking down at his feet, before glancing up at you from beneath his brow, and the look has your stomach twisting and flipping excitedly at the loaded gaze.

‘Well…it seems that I really have ruined your evening; and I’d like to make up for it. So, I’ll give you the money and you can just-‘

‘No. ...Whatever it is, no. I don’t want any catches, I don’t want to make any deals-‘ you immediately go to argue, figuring he was trying to bargain with you, only to very quickly have that train of thought being snatched away.

‘There’s no catch.’

No words would come to you as you stand across from him, stunned by his proposal, and trying desperately to work out just what he was up to.

No-one in their right mind offers to give anyone money for free. Especially the amount of money that requires an undercover mission to obtain, and in this case, ends in a dead body. …So, what did he want?

‘I don’t believe you.’ You mutter, narrowing your eyes at him and fisting your hands at your side as a cheeky, almost edible, grin sprouts on his face, his own eyes glistening down at you as he shrugs nonchalantly, before pulling his phone from his pocket as he slowly swaggers closer to you.

‘How much do you need? I can have it here within the next 15 minutes-‘

’25 Million.’

The way he sucks air in through his teeth in what you assumed was surprise makes you think that you had him, that he was going to make some proposal, or that he would be unable to give the money to you. But approximately 3 seconds later he’s nodding, lifting his phone to his ear and smiling angelically down at you as he waits for the dialing tone to be replaced by a voice.

‘No! Stop!’ you quickly snap, reaching to grab his phone from him, and frowning when he lifts the device out of reach, an eyebrow quirked at your rash actions as you huff heavily and drop your arms back to your side, proceeding to squirm a little where you were stood, folding and unfolding your arms before realizing he was waiting for you to explain yourself after telling the person on the other end of the phone to wait.

‘Why? Why would you just give me money? You barely know me! And after what happened last night-‘

‘That was fun wasn’t it?’ he smirks, winking at you suddenly, and the action has you falling silent as you struggle to think of an appropriate way to respond, having to swallow hard against the butterflies crowding your throat before you could speak again.

‘That’s not the point! If I go home with the money you propose to give me, I have no guarantee that you wont come looking for it again, and when you do-‘

‘If I do-‘

‘When you do-‘ you emphasize, becoming more and more flustered by your proximity to him and the situation he was proposing, ‘I will be buried in the shit that I will have to deal with because of it. …So, as seemingly friendly as this proposition is that you’re putting forward to me, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your offer. Thank you.’

You force yourself to turn away from him with those last few words, sighing as you once again lay your eyes upon the lifeless body of the man you’d accidentally killed 5 minutes before, and being about to walk over and begin the clean up job- which would involve hoisting him over your shoulder before disposing of him appropriately in a quiet area of the Han river- before you’re interrupted by the sound of Taehyung speaking once again.

‘What gang is this guy from?’

‘Lee Hyuk’s, Kyuho went gambling with him the other week, but he ended up swindling him out of money. Kyuho wasn’t happy about it, and thus, I was sent to retrieve his loss…as usual.’

You mutter the last part under your breath, not really being aware of the amount of information you were providing Taehyung, nor how abnormally comfortable you had become around a practical stranger. Instead you proceed to squat beside the dead guy and begin to hoist him onto your shoulder, ignoring the man behind you as you hear him begin to speak to someone on the phone, his murmured tone going unnoticed by you as you feel your thighs burn with the effort to pick the guy up. Although seconds later you’re dropping him back to the floor with a huge thud, and the dull sound of cracking bones, when you turn to see Taehyung struggling to contain laughter at your predicament.

‘I’m sorry, is this amusing to you?’ you snap, feeling a sudden fire begin to burn in your veins as you think about all the ways you could knock him to the ground.

‘No. No, not at all.’ He quickly mutters, coughing away the amusement he, for some reason, had been observing the situation with, before squaring his shoulders and looking back at you with a level gaze.

‘We should go to Lee Hyuk’s base.’

‘Excuse me?!’ you ask, raising your eyebrows in disbelief at the audacity he had to suggest such a ridiculous move, especially given the situations you were in at that moment, and obviously having over-seen the fact that you’d both be done-for the second you stepped into another gang’s domain.

‘I said, We should go-‘

‘Hold on! Who’s ‘we’?’ you cut him off, sitting your hands on your hips in disbelief as you dare him to respond.

‘Me and you. I can call in a few extra men if you wish, but I think it would be more fun if it was just the two of us, don’t you?’ he smirks, beginning to swagger toward you nonchalantly once again, keeping his eyes fixed on your face as he awaits your answer.

‘You’re insane…you’re actually insane.’ You mutter in disbelief after a few moments, having watched him walk all the way over to you until you were stood toe to toe once more, and his tall frame was towering over you; his pearly white grin lighting up the dark like the moon in the night sky.

‘Well if you wont let me give you the money…the least I can do is help you get it back.’

Before you can respond to him, he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you back down the alley, leaving the crumpled dead body behind, and chuckling deeply as he drags you away to your almost certain death.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this. If we get caught-‘

‘What do you mean ‘if’, Sweetheart? …we’re walking in through the front door…there is no ‘if’ about it.’ He snorts, continuing to set a demanding pace as the two of you head directly for the entrance to Lee Hyuk’s pension; the base of all of the gang’s operations.

After you’d thrown a fit at him as he’d attempted to drag you from the alley earlier, thinking you’d leave a dead body lying around, and he’d been forced to call ‘his men’ in to dispose of the evidence, he’d managed to finally convince you to let him pull you into one of the swishest cars you’d ever seen in your entire life. You’d been too stunned to engage in small talk, although after 10 minutes he’s stopping the car anyway, and you’re climbing out to see that the two of you had arrived outside of some giant, modern, castle-like building, complete with moat and guards outside.

It had become pretty evident to you then, that he hadn’t been joking about getting you the money.

‘Are you not aware of the fact that we will most likely get shot down, the second we step foot near the door?-‘

‘If that were true, you wouldn’t be walking beside me right now. So, why don’t you stop panicking and enjoy the ride instead?’ he asks, peering at you from the corner of his eye as he shoots you a gummy grin, before the mask of assassin drops down over his features, and you become distracted by the plain beauty of the façade.

‘Although, I could suppose that you find my presence safe-‘ he muses, the words blurring oddly with his dark, dangerous expression, but it barely takes a second for his meaning to sink in.

‘No. …I still think you’re insane.’ You mutter, your lungs feeling like they were shrinking with his insinuation and the closer you got to the large oak doors that stood before you at the end of the long stone pathway. Its just as you become aware of the clamminess of your palms, that he catches you off-guard by speaking up again.

‘Try not to be nervous, Sweetheart. Dogs can sense fear.’

The words have your usual stone-fronted work facade slipping over your body, your spine straightening and your expression ironing out to one of cold, indecipherability, the mask matching his just in time for the two of you to approach the guards stationed outside.

Of course, that was when the night reached a whole new level of weird.

‘Mr Kim. How can we help?’ one of the men asks, his emotionless expression slipping just the tiniest bit to make you aware of the tension and fear that lay beneath the surface as he addressed the man beside you. It was with a vice like grip that you held onto your disinterested mask as you observed the men’s reaction to Taehyung at your side, your sudden wonder at their reaction to him causing your mind to race with endless amounts of unanswered questions.

‘I’d like to see the main man if you wouldn’t mind.’ the man beside you responds, his voice oddly jovial sounding beside the other man’s, and you cant help but watch as the guard glances at his colleague before looking back up at Taehyung with a thick swallow.

‘I…uh…He’s in a meeting at the moment, im afraid. I can tell him you stopped by-‘

He’s cut off by the man beside you scoffing, the peek you get of him rolling his jaw in mild aggravation surprising even you with its hint of a threat, but it was nothing to the way it caused the guards before you to begin stuttering with fearful excuses.

‘Mr Kim, I promise, we’re not lying. I mean, you usually arrange meetings with him- He would have warned us if you were coming tonight, but he told us explicitly not to let anyone in or out. Sir, I swear-‘

‘I suggest you open the door,…right now.’

It’s the depth of his suddenly quiet tone that surprises you most, the painfully obvious threat that lingers in each lick of his tongue around the words causing the blood to run cold in your veins, and you watch in plain, barely concealed, astonishment as the guard proceeds to do as he says with little to no hesitation, his expression pleading with Taehyung in some strange desperate way that made no sense to yourself, but that remained unanswered by the man beside you as he simply stared ahead, before making his way through the shakily opened door without another word.

What the hell was that?!

‘Pick your chin up off of the floor, Sweetheart. I’m going to need you to keep that mysterious, yet threatening, persona in place that you do so well.’ Taehyung suddenly murmurs beside you, shooting you an amused flash of a smirk, before replacing it once more with an authoritative lift of his chin, the cockiness of the expression both impressing, and disgusting you with his assumption that you were amazed by his antics.

‘Are you going to tell me whats really going on here? Or am I to remain thinking that we’re about to gatecrash a party in search of stolen money, whilst you waltz on through like you organized the damn event?’ you snipe, heart crashing erratically in your confusion and the left over suspense of thinking you were about to get murdered on the spot before Taehyung had performed his great, and incredibly suspicious, magic act.

‘No organization, Sweetheart. Just…think of it as good contacts.’ He muses, leaving you to simply stare aggravatedly at him, unamused by the lack of information he was giving to you, and beginning to think that you were being lead into a trap.

‘Good contacts don’t threaten their way through the door with barley any backlash.’ You mutter to yourself, your eyes fixed on the opening at the end of the long corridor the two of you had been walking towards, but you’re still able to sense the tension in the man beside you as he grits his jaw.

‘Just stay beside me, and nothing will go wrong.’ He says quietly, the direction surprising you enough to make you glance up at him in bewilderment of its strikingly gentle tone, before the two of you emerge into a grand, high-ceilinged room, to be greeted with the sight of Lee Hyuk standing suddenly from amidst a small group of well suited men, his expression immediately falling to surprise as Taehyung speaks, a threatening smirk curling his greeting.

‘Good Evening, Lee Hyuk. …I hope we’re not interrupting anything.’

(T.B.C)

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