#ugh I can’t wait until I next hear her breath shuddering in my ear
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mommybites · 1 year ago
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Slowly becoming more and more feral as the days of her vacation drag on. I’d give close to anything to be able to just lazily eat her out and edge her for a few hours right now, those delicate gasps and the feeling of her back arching beneath my fingertips, such a good slut… ♡
Good thing she’ll be back soon.
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embrassemoi · 4 years ago
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Surrounded by The Moon and Stars • 08
Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors Author’s notes: Had a hard time with this one. 
Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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Chapter 8: Master Plan
❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉
Surgeons always have a plan, that’s what Y/N picked up from her mother over the years. They knew what scalpel they needed, where to cut or clamp down. But even with their carefully crafted plans, there are unexpected things bound to arise that we don’t originally consider.
“Stop moving.”
Because that was not a part of her plan. So she began to formulate a new one:
a) Surely if she were to scream now, it would alert professor McGonagall. She would come rushing to help and free her.
b) But if she stepped on the person's shoe while screaming, it would distract them just long enough for her to have a head start. The pain would be so sudden that they would drop their arms and she could run. If she focused hard enough too, she could channel magic around her. Besides, if all else fails, McGonagall would still be there.
Option b) sounded like a great plan.
Now that her attacker's hand was drawn back, Y/N opened her mouth until she promptly shut it again. In the dark, she vaguely makes out a tall figure coming into view, a familiar mop of fawn-like hair appearing from behind her.
It was Remus.
With his presence, her body instantly relaxes. Her shoulders slump as tension and fear slowly dissolve. Remus tosses her a glance, shooting a gentle smile before his face darkens as he nods. He brings a finger to his lips, warning them to not interrupt.
To her delight, Y/N feels the person’s grip loosen even more, however, their arms were still caged and secured snuggly. Her heart slowed, becoming calmer as her brain moved from the idea of self-defence to confusion.
McGonagall finally enters the main corridor. From where they stood, her back faced them as she peered around the darkness, gripping the base of her candelabra. It glowed brightly, lighting up the surrounding area.
This was the only time Y/N had seen her professor after official school hours. Her outfit was mismatched; a soft pyjama set, with her school robes and heels on. She swore she had a sleeping mask hanging around her neck. Had pure adrenaline not been coursing through her veins, she would have snorted.
Remus uses this to his advantage as he shuffles his way towards McGonagall. He brushes off the non-existent dust from his suit before he reaches into his pocket, placing a shiny pin on the breast pocket. He then coughs, gaining her attention.
Startled, McGonagall wheeled her head, “Mr. Lupin! What are you doing here?”
He puts his hands in the pocket of his suit cooly. “Good evening professor. I’m doing my rounds. I actually just came from Slughorn's party a while ago.” He says, gesturing to his unusual patrol outfit.
McGonagall remains silent, choosing to take in his appearance. Y/N can almost see the confusion written on her face. She peers sternly over her glasses to look at Remus. If he was nervous, he hid it well because his expression managed to stay unchanged and there was no trace of a lie. Her eyes scan him one last time before speaking, “You’re not supposed to be on rounds tonight.”
“I switched places last minute with another prefect. They weren’t feeling well.” Remus quickly adds on, “— you might know them? Calwald; sixth year Slytherin.”
“Ah, yes… I heard footsteps coming from here. Did you see anyone?”
Remus looks like he’s thinking quickly. “Yeah, just a first year Slytherin. I escorted them to their common room.”
Professor McGonagall’s unnerving gaze even made Y/N shudder. She tuts, her head drops in a small nod. She stands tall, “Very well then, goodnight Remus.”  
“Goodnight, Professor.”
The soft clicks of her heels started up again. McGonagall heads in the opposite direction of the Slytherin common room while Remus pretends to walk away before pressing himself against a wall, camouflaging with the shadows in case their teacher were to look back. The echoing became quieter until only a soft, almost inaudible clicking came from the distance. The glow from her candles was gone and darkness surrounded them again.
Y/N was made acutely aware of the other person’s hold around her waist once it slackens, pulling away from her. The heavy fabric is dragged off her body before she turns over to her attacker.
“Sirius?”
She jerks away as far as she could, angrily. Her fingers twitched momentarily.
“You almost ruined it,” he spits out cold and aggressively. His bluish-grey eyes stormed, ripples of angry waves rolling from them. From the proximity, she swore she could feel the venom dripping from him as she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. "And you bit me!"
She should have bitten harder.
She hisses back, “Shut it! How was I supposed to know that you were sneaking around?”
“Pads!” James growls, yanking at Sirius’ shoulder, “Fucking leave her alone. You’ve done enough today.”
“You gits!” Remus scolds, making his way back to the secret passage. He remained calm, directing his next sentences to the boys. “It was a mistake, okay? Calm the fuck down or you two will get us caught.”
Sirius huffs out, childishly. “Whatever you say Moomy.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“What’s going on?” Y/N askes.
At this, Sirius calms down a bit before he looks at Y/N again, a strange expression settles on his face. James on the other hand is ecstatic, “Right! We’re setting up the last part of the plan right now. The itching spray!”
Oh!"
“Yeah. Wormy is already inside the Slytherin common room making sure the spiders and Dungbombs we put in there are working.”
“Did you say he’s inside their common room?”
At this, his smile grows, “Got their password by waiting outside their door and Polyjuice potion. Our dear Moony brewed it.” Remus’ face is smug, his chest puffed out.
“Holy shit! I didn’t know you took it this seriously. Couldn't you be expelled for this?!”
"Godric, maybe Remus needs to give you his prefect title."
“I’ll gladly give it to you — fuckin’ hate being one.” Remus jokes, “Nah, we’ll be fine as long as we don’t get caught.”
“We’ve got our goody-two-shoes over here. Everyone loves him, won’t suspect a thing.” James says. Her eyes are back on Remus, sweeping from his face then down to his shiny prefect badge.
“I’m their scapegoat.”
Sirius sighs impatiently before cutting in, “Alright, I’m sure you can go now. McGonagall is long gone.”
Everyone shoots him a look.
“Oi! No! Please join us!” James whines, “You’re already here and trust me it’ll be so fun!”
“He’s right, join us,” Remus says, “Besides, you suggested it and it’ll be safer and easier to cover our tracks.”
It sounded exciting and she did need a pick-me-up considering her wavering emotions lately. Although Sirius’ jaw clenched. He was scowling at her.
“I’d love to join you,” she says, looking Sirius in the eyes.
A silent whooping came from James who balled his fist, throwing them into the air in celebration. They huddled together just as Remus led them out of the passage and through the dark.
James, who shared qualities of a golden retriever, walked by her side, a pep in his step. "You get to see the action first-hand, excited?"
“Of course!”
James rambles on before his eyes gloss over. He’s unusually quiet. Simultaneously, he grabs her hand and stops abruptly, dragging her to the back of the group. He lends in to whisper, his eyes flicking momentarily to Sirius, “Why were you with him?”
“Who?” She whispers back.
“Regulus Black.”
“Oh, we were at the Slug Cl —” She cuts herself off as she realizes, her eyes widened before staring at him, “You were following me!?”
“No! No!” He says, bringing his hands up defensively, waving them around. "You were walking in the same direction as him! To the Slytherin common room! It wasn't on purpose!"
“I — how did you — I didn’t even see you!” She thought back to the crinkling noise, “Wait, we heard you!”
He sighs a bit as he pulls out a large fluid-like, shimmery, silvery cloak. Upclose, silver threads were woven onto it, patterns swirling into regal shapes. He handed her the cloak to feel. It was silky smooth and glittered prettily in the light. It looked similar to the reflection of stars in a lake at night.
“You’re not telling me this is a…” she gaped.
The boy was grinning from ear to ear as if it were sewn on his face permanently. In a way, it looked rather demonic. He looked as if his face were going to split into two. “You betcha! An invisibility cloak.”
Her mind finally caught up to her once again before thinking back to what James asked. “Why’d you want to know about Regulus?”
“Huh! E-erm… no reason.”
She punches him softly in the arm. “You lying bastard! You can’t be nosey and not tell me? He’s not… bad? Is he? I quite like him.”
“No he’s not… just —” James cuts himself off, fearing he might have said too much. He did not expect the conversation to turn in this direction. He quickly averts her attention to another topic. “The Slug Club?” He says loud enough so the entire group can hear, “How was it?”
She would make sure to push him on the topic later.
Meanwhile, Remus and Y/N groaned.
“Awful.”
“Dreadful.”
“Nosey git.”
“Happily annoying.”
“He must be an actual slug. He’s slimy and boring.”
“Merlin! It can’t be that bad!”
“Oh trust us,” Remus addresses, “It’s worse. The entire time he went on and on about stupid shit. Like what was it he said?” He looks at Y/N.
“Ugh, what?”
“When he went on about that kid— what was his name… Seán?”
“Ah! Wait,” she straightened up and mocked their professor. She fake coughs for dramatic effect. “Your aunt created the Capmisted potion! Ah yes, brilliant, brilliant! I wish I taught her when she was at Hogwarts. Say, you’re still close, right? Why don’t we invite her to come to one of these parties one day?”
Her painful attempt at a British accent made them laugh.
“What a fucking sleazy bloke,” Remus chokes out.
They continued to make their way down to the Slytherin common room. All four jumped at the sound of footsteps before Y/N felt the invisibility cloak being tossed over her body, along with the rest of the boys too. They waited until it passed before finally stopping at the dungeons.
The entrance to the common room was by a stretch of stone. The area was dimly lit, the ceiling was low and had an eerie look and feel to it. Plus the cold only made Y/N rub her hands up and down her arms, goosebumps left in their trail. A dripping sound encompassed them like a makeshift metronome.
It made her feel uneasy.
Peter, who was crouched and small, hid in the shadows and would’ve gone unseen had he not popped out and scared all of them.
“For fucks sake Wormtail! We thought you were a Slytherin earlier.”
Peter was gleeful. He donned a large smirk and his face was slightly red. The Polyjuice was almost completely worn off, however, Peter had a full head of black, thick hair. “I checked everything, the traps should be set to release at eight o’clock.”
“An hour long?”
“Needs time to travel around the room.”
“Positive?”
“Positive.”
“Now comes the fun part,” James nudges her.
“Oh, hi Y/N,” Peter says slightly confused.
“Hey, Pete, here to watch if you don’t mind.”
Peter takes a moment to look at the rest of the group, “More the merrier!”
“Alright, you geezas! Let's get this party started!” James announces. He digs through the side bag he was carrying, pulling out four pairs of dragonhide gloves and tosses them to the boys. “Sorry, haven’t got any for ya. Would’ve brought an extra if I knew you were comin’.”
“It's alright.”
“Okay,” Remus says before crouching down, a large bag on his side. “I’ll start attaching everything, you know what to do and be careful. Remember, do not touch your eyes.”
He looks up at her, “Y/N if you could, it would be helpful to be on the watch out.”
“Gladly.”
Remus unscrewed bottle after bottle, attaching nozzles on them while James helped him. Peter slid out a ladder that was concealed by magic in a slim nook. As he scaled it, Sirius held on tightly to it before he cast a charm to prevent it from sliding around.
Up high, concealed by darkness and magic, revealed hundreds of identical bottles before Remus sprang up, switching places with Peter as he attached the rest of the bottles onto a huge system.
It looked similar to a new-maj mechanical system. The components consisted of small wires, a timer, tape and string connected to them all, along with a small lever that was attached to the underside of a brick. With the aid of magic, they were all securely set into place and ready to be activated.
“What is that?” She turned to Peter.
“Moonys got the bottles up there programmed to spray every time certain people leave the common room. See, look,” he points to the almost non-existent glow on the wires.
She marvelled at their creation. It was large and must’ve spent hours trying to conduct it. Sirius and James were helping Remus by passing him the bottles and securing them to the top of the roof.
If only Lily was here to see this. She would have an aneurysm.
At one point, Peter had been passing the bottles up to Remus while Sirius and James fiddled around with extra dungbombs they had, scattering them around.
“Jeez, Moons, my arms feel like they’re on fire.”
Peter did look worn out before he panted out. His forehead was starting to glean from sweat.
“Why don’t I do it for now?” She says to him before looking up to Remus.
“Only if you want to.”
The two switched places and Peter handed her his gloves. She slipped them on before enchanting them to fit snugly around her hands. Bending down, she picked up a few bottles. They were unexpectedly very heavy. She understood why Peter had to take a break. Although Remus seemed to be fine. Compared to his slim look, Remus had an unusual amount of strength that surprised her.
They worked in phases. Every ten or so minutes, Peter and Y/N would switch positions. They all worked in silence. From time to time, Peter and her would crack a joke, causing Remus to overhear and chuckle himself.
Everyone was having a good time. Even Sirius perked up, being less hostile to the entire group and even her. She thought she was dreaming for a split second.
The group worked quickly and managed to attach all of the bottles along with Dungbombs with only a few interruptions from incoming students. Luckily, they had the cloak to cover themselves and their things.
By the time they were finished, it was past one in the morning. They all huddled together underneath the cloak. Unfortunately, it was only medium-sized and unable to fully cover everyone from sight. Sirius and Y/N, who were on the edge on opposite sides, their arms and legs would poke out. More than once, it became very uncomfortable and hard to squish everyone inside as they flattened themselves against a wall anytime they heard even the slightest of movements. They kept impossibly silent, aside from James who’d been elated; constantly making small jokes or making sound effects with his mouth. Remus had to flick him a few times to keep quiet.
As soon as they reached the Gryffindor tower, they removed the cloak.
“Gastropod!” Cheered Peter to the fat lady. She swung open for the five of them. The warmth of the fireplace crackled as they threw themselves on the sofas. They all tried to catch their breaths and still their pounding heartbeats.
Pure adrenaline pumped through her veins as she took a moment to take in what just happened.
James was grinning from ear to ear, Peter seemed cheerful, Sirius became somewhat tolerable, while Remus, as always, seemed tired.
Remus, covering his mouth in a half yawn muttered out, “It was fun having you here but I’m knackered. I’ll see you lot at breakfast. Night.”
“Me too,” Peter said. Sirius got up to followed them as they made their way up to the boy’s dorms.
James stayed with Y/N for a bit afterwards. Both were giddy and they even ate a few snacks she still had in her pockets.
“Wasn’t that fun!” he said, “Godric, you need to join more often.”
“I’ll think about it,” Y/N says playfully.
“I’m going to train you — gonna make you into a mini-me. My apprentice.”
“I think the world has enough of your arrogance.”
He laughed unbothered by the remark, “This is only the beginning. Just you wait.”
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hotwings0203 · 3 years ago
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Hello!!!
I'm here with some Muslim Hawks headcanons!!
Okayyy soooo you that headcanon of how Hawks collects trinkets? Yeah Muslim Hawks would definitely flirt with you by giving you churiyan (probably gold or red ones lol) and when you wear them, he feels so possessive and can't control himself and play with your hands and fingers telling you how he can't wait to put a ring on you and how these colors look so pretty on you
Speaking of jewelry, when you guys get engaged (which you will cuz he knows how to keep a good reputation with the elders), he gives you jewelry that has his feathers incorporated in it
Okay! But if its not churiyan, I think he would get you an anklet bracelet (payal?), and lmao he would corner you and would crouch down and just softly touch your ankle while putting it on you, and to tease you, he would slowly trace his fingers up your leg while looking up at you with his sharp and playful gaze and he would relish in the way you blush and squeak Hawks! And run away LOLL
Also! He loves it when you feed him, will coo and chirp like a god damn bird. Again you know that trope of the bride feeding the groom, he would totally grab your hand to feed him, and maintain eye contact the whole time, his hawk like gaze pinning you in space and you're just trying not die from blushing
Nickenames!!! Has a plethora of nicknames for you like meri jaan, meri chaand, etc. but his main ones are 'meri chhoti churiya' (my little bird) or 'meri methi churiya' (my sweet bird)! And everytime he utters these names, it'd make you soooo flustered! And omg if he calls you that in front or near the elders, you'd blush so hard while subtly glaring at him and he would just smirk and wink at you lolll
Also I feel like he would be that asshole who scares you when you're at a party and telling djinn stories LOL like the kids and others are all gathered in a room after dinner, its after maghrib, and you are telling djinn stories or watching a horror movie, and when the scary part comes, he would send one his feathers to tickle your feet or touch your shoulder or ear, and you'd squeak and jump right into him (cuz of course hes sitting right beside you, even though you tried to move away from him, you know halal distances and stuff) and he's just sitting all smug and being like "don't worry jaan I'll protect you" LMFAO
Okay okay, that's enough for now, I'll send more soon!!!!
WIAFHFHFHFFN THE FIRST SENTENCE I WAS SOLD!! man I’ve been so excited and literally WAITING to tackle these cuz you always deliver the best headcannons
I could totally see over the expanse of him trying to court you your wardrobe if accessories would slowly shift over to red and gold colors, and if you don’t wear them then he gets all pouty and moody until you catch his drift and run back to wear his colors:)
OO FUUCCKKKK YO PAYAL IS SO SEXY AND FOR WHAT?? Like maybe you’re at someone else’s wedding sitting down from dancing so much, or just stuffed with food when he pounces on your vulnerable state.
“Hey there churiya(bird), I hope you liked my churiyan(bangles),” he snorts at his cringe joke and you can’t help but loosely suppress a laugh yourself.”
“Ha-ha Keigo, verryyyy funny. Arent you supposed to be schmoozing up to your usual harem?”
“My harem?” He pretends to look shocked and places a hand on his chest. “I’m insulted, truly. It’s not a harem, it’s a cult.”
“Ugh!” You get up to leave when he drops to a kneel and grabs your foot, preventing you from leaving.
“What’re you doing?”
“You know, I might have a cult following, but I think id rather keep you as my high priestess. What do you say?” You feel sturdy fingers dancing along your feet and you giggle as he tickles the bottoms.
Then a cold lightweight chain is looped around your toes and around your ankle. You angle to look at it in surprise, and open your mouth to ask why he’s putting payal on you when his fingers start to wander.
Your mouth is stuck open as you watch in shock how his nails lightly rake your smooth skin, and trace up your kameez, letting the cloth ride up your bare legs in a teasing taste of what was his to come.
“Yeah? You enjoying that churiya? There’s more where that came from,” he whispers as he draws his head near and drills his golden eyes into your fluttering ones.
“You-what-“ you sputter as he grips your knee as draws small circles at the back of it.
“If you want me to to higher, you gotta take me out on a date first. Or put a ring on it, either way doesn’t matter to me.”
“Hawks!” You try to pretend you don’t enjoy the sound of his boisterous laughter as you spring up and run to hide your face.
You know he’ll be back though. He always comes back.
As for the bird chirping noises, YES. ABSOLUTELY AND 100%!!
It’s on your wedding when he’s sitting next to you, clad in gold and white while you’re in a deep red (much to his pleasure).
The adults are chatting amongst themselves and turned away from you both when you decide to indulge him. You delicately pick up a piece of laddoo and bring the food to his mouth, turning his chin with your hand under it to face you.
He looks at you with wide eyes and then grins when he sees what you’re doing.
“Come on lardki. Don’t you know feeding mithai is bad for birds? They could die, y’know” he simpers yet accepts the food heartily, chomping away and looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Hmm, that’s too bad. And here I was thinking birds mate for life.” You flick your hair and get a taste of rasgullah yourself, licking the milky substance off your fingers slowly and relishing when he swallows hard at the sight.
It’s hard to hide your grin when his chirps come throughout the rest of the evening during the randomest of times, his face turning as bright as your lengha when he remembers the erotic sight.
I guess there really is a way to shut him up after all.
AND YESSS YO THIS ASSHOLE JUST LOOVEESSS DJINN STORIES😭
I bet y’all would be at a party, the kind that ends at 1 in the morning when all the kids are tired and delirious.
“Alright guys, gather around. I’m about to lighten this party up.” He claps his hands and waits for all the kids and young adults to circle around him excitedly, their fatigue washed away by the prospect of hearing how another one of their great ancestors was possessed.
It just so happens that you find yourself seated next to him (with the help of his feather with poked the butts of 8 year olds away with subtle yelps).
He makes sure to give you his signature wink and grin especially for you before he starts the story, and you cover your mouth to hide your smile and roll your eyes.
12 minutes in, the lights are all off and everyone is leaning forward, hooked on his story.
“And then, you know what happens to the girl?” He asks lowly in the dark. He can sense everyone’s holding their breaths, yours included.
“N-no, what happens?” One girl asks timidly.
“He POSSESS HER!” Keigo shouts and uses his feather to disperse around the room, sliding under people’s feet’s and knees, causing absolute mayhem as they all run around in the pitch black room and scream.
You weren’t given any mercy either, except your special feathers lift up and tilt your body to dump on his lap.
When he feels your hands searching in the dark in panic of who it is, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close to him, using the void of the room to relish in wrapping his arms and wings around you.
It’s just you and him in that moment, amongst the screams and shouts.
“K-keigo?”
“I’m here meri jaan. I’ll protect you from those big bad djinn,” he chuckles and brings his head near your neck, not touching exactly but rather brushing his nose against the column of your throat and growling when you shudder at the goosebumps racing across your arms.
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lovehugsandcandy · 4 years ago
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One-on-One: Love (N*FW, ColtxMC, ROD)
A/N: This is a birthday gift for the lovely @desiree-pow (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE! I hope that this bday is AMAZING - you deserve it!!!). This is also the last (maybe?) one-shot in the Colt!basketball AU that no one asked for. (Series here)
Length: ~1,800 words 
Rating:  N*FW (Swearing and sex)
Summary: That’s one way to improve morale after a loss.
.
Ellie bounced Jaylen on her lap, trying futility to keep him occupied as the final seconds ticked by. The Knicks were down by 11; even with thirty seconds on the clock, this game was over.
“Ugh,” she moaned, standing at the final horn and turning to Brandi, the sole friend she had made amongst the other players’ wives. “This loss means Colt is going to be in a god awful mood tonight.”
“Oh no,” Brandi replied, fixing her with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t mind when they lose. Kevin gets all his anger out in the best way, if you know what I mean.”
Ellie blinked, mind slowly catching up to the implication, as she cradled her son closer. Her thoughts raced before finally settling on awe. It was a fantastic idea; she was amazed she hadn’t thought of it before. 
She knew Colt better than anyone. 
She knew he liked winning.
But she knew he loved her more, desperately, ferociously; she had seen it repeatedly, from callused fingertips tracing ever so gently over goosebumps emerging on her bare skin to his willingness to temper even his worst impulses for her sake. His absolute adoration had quelled many of the ceaseless on-court fistfights, though the smart mouth spitting insults remained. His devotion had convinced him to refuse multiple trade requests for the sake of their family. And it had even reduced the constant bickering targeted at Logan, though nothing would squash every jab.
Together, they had navigated graduations and parenthood, dissertations and Championships.
Of course she could get him over one loss.
It was brilliant.
~~~~~
She heard the front door creak open right as Jaylen drifted off to sleep, easing the nursery door closed as quietly as she could, Brandi’s words still bouncing around her brain, she waited two beats to make sure that he didn’t stir before creeping away.
When she edged downstairs, bare feet slow on the carpet, it was quiet but, if she focused, she could hear quiet clicking, tapping of fingers on a keyboard barely audible from the living room. She peeked in; the laptop screen illuminated Colt’s face, game tape already rolling in front of him.
“Hey, Colt?”
He didn’t respond, eyes glued on the movement in front of him, tight fingers reaching for his cell phone.
“Colt?”
“Hmm? Is the baby asleep?” He didn’t look up, not even when she stalked closer to lean over the couch and drag her palms over his chest, damp hair from the locker room shower tickling her cheek. “That fucking asshole,” he murmured, still transfixed by the screen; she rolled her eyes.
“Colt, come to bed.”
“In a minute, I gotta-“
“Coooolt.” Her teeth grazed his earlobe, and he shuddered, tremble rolling up and down his spine, but still his gaze remained on the screen.
“Baby, I-” His fingers were tense around the phone but his words cut off sharply, inhale whistling harshly through his teeth as her fingertips walked slow, teasing circles underneath his t-shirt, down the taut muscles of his chest.
“The tape will be there tomorrow.”
“But I need to-“ He sucked in a breath, again, as her teeth teased the tendon in his neck, and he grabbed hold of her hair when she paused, gently keeping her pinned in place as she nibbled a possessive mark into his skin. “Baby…”
“Come on.” She stood, edging backwards toward the stairs, and smirked when he turned to face her, leather couch creaking beneath him. His eyes trailed down, flashing greedy and dark, intent on where her fingers fiddled with the bottom hem of the grey sweatshirt.
“Logan’s supposed to call me, we’re gonna go over tape.”
She raised her eyebrows, saying nothing, and pulled her sweatshirt over her head, noting the exact moment when his eyes drifted down to the jersey underneath, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“We’re supposed to…” He trailed off helplessly as the phone in his hand began blaring, glancing between the lit screen and to where her hands were making their way to the front of her jeans. “Baby, this isn’t fair.”
She bit her lip when she popped the button, taking her time with the zipper, and had just started inching the denim down her thighs when he dropped the phone, still ringing as it bounced to the ground. He leaned forward, eyes intent on the emerging skin, and she grinned in victory, kicking away the fabric when it reached her toes.
She had just put her fingers on the hem of her jersey when he leapt clear over the back of the couch; she giggled as she stumbled backwards, but he was faster, long legs tracking her as if he were streaking towards the net. However, instead of the basketball, she was the prize. 
And Colt always demanded his prize.
“Fuck no.” He pulled her hands away from the Knicks blue, dragging her against his chest. “Leave it on.” 
“You are such a narcissist. You just want me wearing your name.”
“Our name,” he corrected, sliding warm fingertips up her sides to settle underneath her bra. “And it doesn’t matter ‘cuz you know you’re gonna be screaming my name in a minute.”
“You are such a- oh.”
His teeth were against her neck as she sagged against him, back resting against his chest as strong fingers dug insistently on her hipbones, leading her towards the stairs. “That was completely unfair. You cheat worse than the fucking Nets.” Behind them, Colts cell phone was still blaring from somewhere under the couch, but she could only focus on the hushed promises being dropped into her ear. “And, when we get to our bedroom, I’m gonna take you apart just like I did them in the fucking playoffs.”
But they didn’t make it to the bedroom, anyway.
She sassed back, “I think I can play tougher defense than they can.” But it was difficult walking, Colt plastered behind her, chuckling against her neck before his lips moved to the curve of her shoulder, teeth print on her skin marking her as his as much as the six letters on her back. He teased the line of her panties, fingertips dipping incrementally closer as revenge for her sharp tongue; by the time they got to the bottom step, her words were gibberish, unintelligible, and the muscled arms around her waist were the only things keeping her weak knees from giving out.
She made it one step, then two, the line of his chest solid against her back and his cock stiffening against her ass, grinding in an utterly distracting and entirely indecent way, and she couldn’t be blamed for missing the next step, collapsing to her knees on the plush carpet.
“Fuck, Ellie.” He followed her down, pinned to her the entire way, and his hands curved over hers on the step. “Ok?”
“Please,” she whined, the only coherent sound she could make through the fog over taking her body and mind. “Just please.”
“Fuck.” The word landed hot against her neck and he moved, shifting back, and she heard rustling, fabric being pulled away, her underwear tugged down to a rushed tangle at her knees, and then he was lining up behind her. Her forehead dropped to a stair as he slid inside her, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open as the familiar stretch sent lightning up her nerves. “Ellie, God, you feel incredible.”
She inhaled, trying to somehow get oxygen into her heaving lungs; he felt incredible, joined as one and hard inside her, hands warm and solid on her hips, teeth digging designs at the curve of her neck. “Colt, move, just move, please.”
He huffed a laugh against her skin and obliged, slow at first, settling deeper and deeper until he was just right, her thighs clenching as pleasure flickered and flared up her spine, then back down, jolting every nerve ending until she could feel it in her toes.
She moaned, low and lusty and downright filthy, and her nails scratched against the carpet as his hips moved faster; she worried for a moment that she tore a thread from the floor but, with the next thrust, it didn’t even matter because all she could do was moan into the carpet. Her hand flew to her mouth to dampen the keening cry pulled from her lips, but Colt only dragged her hand away, interlocking their fingers as he moved faster, hips pushing her forward and forehead sliding over the rug.
“Fuck, I want to hear you, El.”
“But the baby…”
“Don’t care.”
“But oh God, Colt there, please- I can’t-”
He pivoted his hips just so and the noise that came out of her mouth was unnatural, high and debauched and inhuman. The world shook around her as her vision swam, carpet fading in and out of vision as she tightened her fingers around his, something to cling to as the world fell apart. She barely registered when he shifted, fingertips of his other hand digging into her hip bones to pull her hips flush against his, or his moan, low in her ear; she was still shaking, weakened body sinking lower until she and Colt landed flat on the stairs, a pile of limbs and ragged breath. 
She was a sated, pliant mess when he eased her up off the stairs, guiding her to their bedroom to tug off the jersey, her bra, and his entire tracksuit, now wrinkled and defiled beyond repair. He was just kissing down her ear when she bit her lip and grinned. “Are you feeling better about that loss now?”
“What loss?” he murmured into her skin.
She chuckled, craning her neck back as he reached that sensitive spot at her shoulder and continued down. “The game tonight?” It was getting harder to form words.
“What game tonight?”
She laughed again and had a smart reply at the ready before a tinny cry cut through the air. Colt dropped his forehead against her stomach. “I knew you’d wake the baby.”
“He has the absolute worst timing.”
“Colt?” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Can you…?”
“What? 
“Maybe go see if you can put him back to sleep?”
He looked up, eyes narrowing. “Ellie…”
“Please?” She put on her best pout, curling her fingers over the sensitive spot behind his ears.
“But this was your night.”
She stuck her bottom lip out further, batting her eyelashes.
“Oh, my God! I can’t believe-” Colt groaned, standing up in a huff. “Fine. Fine.” He threw on some boxers, feet stomping heavy as he gave her the evil eye the entire time. “You are so lucky I love you.”
She laughed, listening to his footsteps recede down the hall; gradually, the crying quieted, then ceased, followed by a soothing voice and quiet coos. Twisting the ring around her finger, she smiled and whispered to the universe, “Yeah. I really am.”
.
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𝕴𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖌𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖔 2
It has been a breezy two weeks in school, and you could already tell that you fit right in plus. Katsuki has been an ass but not that much of an ass to you. you'd say that you don't usually get death threats like the rest of the class does. "I will get up from my seat and personally kick your ass right here right now in front of Mr. Aizawa if you dare kick my seat, again Katsuki Bakugo." Katsuki shifts in his seat. "Then do it," he says slowly. You turn around and glare at him. He shifts and leans back. "Um?" his eyes linger around your neck as you turn around. It's getting a little hot in here. You gently touch your neck. You hear Katsuki shuffle around in his seat until you feel his hot breath a little above your ear. You yelp, "Get away from me, you asshole," you whisper-shout Katsuki's smile grew wider, "this is my seat, y/n." you touch your ear. you shuddered you, quickly turn around Katsuki raises a brow "You fucking licked my ear" he chuckles you turn around oh gross Aizawa turns around "For today's class, we will be working together as partners." Izuku and Ochako look at you. "Pass these back" Aizawa hands sheets of paper to everyone in the front, and they take on and pass it down. You take a single sheet and hold it over your head for Katsuki. His hand brushes against yours as he takes the final sheet, "On the board are the people you will be working with" Aizawa sits back at his desk. "Now work" you take out a pencil and start working silently.
"Ugh," you lean on your new friend's arm. "I had a weird morning," he smiles "tell me about it." "There is this guy name Katsuki and he fucking" you paused, seeing Katsuki farther down the line. "he is rude," Naoki smiles. "after we get lunch from Lunch Rush. we can talk about it" Naoki softly rubs your back. "No, I don't think so" Naoki raises a brow, "I think I will keep it to myself. He shrugs, "If you say so." you and Naoki receive your meal and walk towards a table that was in front of a large plant, "Do you think this Katsuki is cute?" you shake your head, "Shut up," Naoki takes a bite of his food. "Well," he swallows, "If he keeps bothering you, I don't mind roughing him up a bit" you roll your eyes. "I'm sure he'd be roughing you up" "Y/N!" you turn towards the voice and see Ochako and Izuku waving you smile and wave back "those are my friends" "they seem nice" you nod you and Naoki eat lunch together in silence.
As your eating, you feel eyes burning into you. You brush it off until something in your stomach telling you to look up. You look up and see Katsuki at the other table directly across from you. Alongside him were Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, and Sero. Who were chatting among themselves. "Hey, you good?" Naoki smiles, you smile back, "Yeah, I'm good" Naoki looks at Katsuki, then he looks at you with a furrowed brow. You smiled leaning, into Naoki, "Stop worrying about it." Naoki looks over your face carefully. He then smiles, "Oh alright," he lays his head down and falls asleep "Idiot." you look back at Katsuki, who had a bored expression. You break the tension that was slowly building by laying your head down near Naoki's. Hey, you good?
You woke up to someone shaking you awake "What?" you rubbed your eyes. "It's time to go, dumbass" you shoot Katsuki a glare. "Fine, let's go" you grab your bag and hug it close to your chest as you walk. Alongside Katsuki, you side glance and see that he's drinking a juice box he tosses it in the trash. "Is there something on my face?" you look around, and near the corner of his lips was rice. You take your hand and gently wipe the rice away. "Nope," You were greeted by Midnight, who hand-delivered paper as soon as you walked through the doorway "Oooh, young love." she gushed. You look away, "No," she awed as we sat in our respected seats.
"Okay, guys, once I point at you and another person, you two will be teamed up together, so don't be afraid to move desks side by side." she starts. "Oh, you look adorable, so you and him, Oh you two girls would look adorable" once she finally got to me. "What about you and Katsuki." she points at Katsuki. You nod, "Katsuki," he picks up his desk and moves it next to yours Katsuki smiles. "So this paper. "Ugh," you lean against your arm "Hey," Katsuki rests his hand on your shoulder. "You'll be okay," you sigh Katsuki's hand starts rubbing your back sometimes, lingering near a certain spot. "You're a pervert" Katsuki's hand stops, "Oh shut up, Idiot!" he yells, "Stop your yapping." Midnight yells at Katsuki. He looks at her with rage. Then he looks back at you, "Let's get this paper finished."
You both conversate quietly with each other as you work on the paper. You realize the more you have in common with Katsuki. "No way, I like spicy food too," you say after he mentions his love of spicy food Katsuki crosses his arms across his chest allowing, you to have time to realize how close you both were. Your leg was practically on top of his, and his paper was almost over on to your desk. "I bet you are a wussy." you pout Katsuki laughs. "A big wussy who can't handle the real stuff." You hit his arm, "I can," he rolls his eyes, "Yeah right, you'll eat something but then realize it is so spicy, and you'll cry like a big baby" he teases you roll your eyes. "I've practically known you for two weeks, but I know for a fact that between the both of us, you are the big baby" his smile drops instantly, "You are the baby!" he hits your arm "Kacchan, Y/n, How are you guys?" Izuku walks into the classroom from the recovery room after he mysteriously breaks his arm, "Shut the hell up, Deku!!" Katsuki yells "Katsuki!" You shove him. "You are too close," you push him until he finally moves. "Not my fault you are all huddled up," "Am Not," "Are too" Izuku sits in front of us, "Ms. Midnight said I could join you guys" I look over to see the pure rage in Katsuki's face. "What do you have against Izuku. He's so nice." You squish Izuku's cheeks, "H-hey!" he covers his reddened face, "Hey, Izuku" Ochako skips over to Izuku happily. Ochako and Izuku end up in a conversation.
You lean in, "I bet they like each other" Katsuki's face reddens. "I don't care what that nerd does!" Izuku looks over "Kacchan" "Shut up, stupid, Deku" Katsuki grabs his pencil. His embrace around the pencil was so tight it broke. "Oh my gosh, Katsuki, you don't like Izuku that much" you reach into your bag and grab a black pencil, "Take this" Katsuki looks at the pencil "tch." you glare, "Don't tch me." He glares at you again "tch" "tch yourself you are the dumb fuck that broke the pencil in the first place!" Katsuki sulks in anger. "Don't yell at me. I'll fucking kill you" you quiet down. Oh my gosh, you smile. "Aww, it's your first Death threat made against me" his eye twitched, "Y-you." Katsuki twitched more. You wrap your arms around his head "this calls for a celebration" Izuku looks on in horror, "Uh," he slowly raises his hand as he points at the fuming hot Katsuki. "Aww, are you that mad" you gave him puppy eyes. "That shit ain't going to work on me," he says in a much lower voice. "No, I think it did."
"We're finally done" you stretch Katsuki stretches as well. "Fucking finally I was waiting on your slow ass" you stop to glare at him, "Fuck you," "fuck you right back." Izuku sighs, "Help" "Finish it on your own," you smile at Izuku. "Don't worry, I'll help you" you could feel the glare behind your back as you helped Izuku. You knew it was a glare based on the terrified look on Izuku's face. You turn around, "Stop scaring Izuku" Katsuki shifts. "Shut up" you decided to be petty, so you leaned back and stretched until you heard the pencil you gave Katsuki fall. You listen as Katsuki growls as he picks it back up. You took that as a win.
Izuku thanks you and races back to his desk. After you've helped him, you rest your chin against your hand in a bored manner, "Ms. Midnight, is there something else I could do until this class is over?" You ask in a whiny tone, "wipe the board" you look over at the messy board. "Okay." you stand and walk up to the board.
You walk up to the board and take a whiteboard eraser and wipe the board. You do that in silence until "Here." Katsuki takes the eraser and starts wiping, "You know I could do that myself" Katsuki laughs. "What about the places you may or may not reach?" you cross your arms Katsuki wipes the board. Katsuki gets everything off the very top of the board. "Alright, you can continue" Katsuki puts the eraser in your hand. "Um," you clear your throat Katsuki's hand lingers on the eraser he gave you. "You can let it go now" Katsuki slowly retracts his hand. "Hey, Bro!" Kirishima and Kaminari greet Katsuki. You turn to watch as he leaves, with Kirishima and Kaminari following closely. Behind they've all gotten closer since the first day of school, you remember how Katsuki was annoyed with their presence. But now it seems Katsuki doesn't mind anymore you wipe the rest of the whiteboard and return to your desk.
"Oh, thank you," Ms. Midnight pats your head, "Also you and Katsuki's paper were impressive" you smile, "From what I've read so far." Katsuki leans forward. "Congratulations, Y/n and Katsuki." Kirishima high-fives you and Katuski. "I think I might have to pair you up together again for the next paper since you two work so well together" you turn and meet Katsuki's eyes. Ms. Midnight pats Katsuki's head, "Lay off, woman." Katsuki protests. Ms. Midnight laughs. "Well, I'll leave you two alone for now" she walks away. "Woah, she was eyeing you guys like a predator who has cornered her prey. HOW COULD YOU HAVE DONE IT" Mineta grabs onto Katuski's collar, "YOU HAVE TO TELL ME." Mineta shakes Katsuki, "HEY LAY OFF" Katsuki shoves Mineta off. "Y/N YOU HAVE TO TELL ME" Mineta was practically crying as he held onto you, "EW!" Katsuki grabs his collar. "WORK ON IT YOURSELF, LOSER!" Katsuki yells at Mineta, lets up, and walks to his desk.
"Aw, so worked up," Ms. Midnight rests her hands on her hip, "THAT TURNS ME ON!" you do a double-take. "It WHAT" Katsuki chuckles. "Ms. Midnight read my paper," Midnight approaches Mineta's desk. "I bet he's going to be fantasizing about that for weeks." you shake your head, "probably months." "Hello, I'm Shoto Todoroki my father Enji Todoroki is the head of the firefighter station, and," you look at Katsuki then back at Shoto, "Hello, I'm y/n" you interject. Shoto nods Izuku comes up and rests his hand on Shoto's back "this is Shoto. He's just arrived." Katsuki scowls at Izuku, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, DEKU!" Katsuki stands. Shoto looks up at Katsuki. "He is talking to one of his friends" "SHUT UP," Katsuki snaps back. "Well, y/n is a good friend of mine, and so I wanted to introduce Shoto to" "Shut up" Katsuki snarls you stand and grab onto Izuku and Shoto's arms. "Here, let's talk over there with Ochako" you walk to Ochako. She looks over and smiles, "Y/n!"
"Tenya Iida," Tenya offers his hand for a handshake. "Y/n," Izuku and Shoto stand beside Tenya, "It's nice to see you again." Izuku smiles Tenya smiles back "the same for you" Shoto introduces himself to Tenya, "Um, maybe you should just say that your name is Shoto Todoroki." Izuku nervously pats Shoto's back, "I see."
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luxaofhesperides · 3 years ago
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there in the tower.
A Sleeping Beauty inspired dark fantasy fic.
for ORV RARE PAIR WEEK 2021 @orv-week; day one, prompt: fairy tale
also on ao3.
. . .
They say that the dragon is guarding a princess. After all, dragons will always kidnap princesses and no one else. Who else is so valuable? So important in the kingdom? So weak? So when the dragon flew through the sky and curled around the base of a large tower, it seemed obvious that there was a princess inside, awaiting rescue.
Here’s the thing, though: Na Bori is not a princess.
She’s a seamstresses daughter, a common girl who doesn’t attract much attention from others. So why had the dragon taken her?
Of course, Lee Jihye had no way to know for sure that Na Bori was taken until she actually goes to the tower, but Na Bori had disappeared and a dragon appeared the next day. There were investigations, of course; nobility keeps track of their daughters and what bloodlines they marry into. Every princess and noble girl in the continent is accounted for. People have speculated that there may be a missing princess, perhaps born out of wedlock, or a sickly, weak girl who had never been introduced to society. And then they wondered if they should even bother rescuing the kidnapped girl if they weren’t respectably nobility.
Lee Jihye had to run out of town because of that one. Apparently starting a bar fight and smashing a chair over a marquis’ son is a bad move.
The barely suppressed panic thrums in her chest, filling the empty spaces between her ribs as she continues her journey to the tower. 
No one has seen Na Bori since the dragon appeared. No one had looked, either. Who would care for a seamstresses daughter? But Lee Jihye has been besides Na Bori for years, has grown up with her, has never known anyone so bright and clever and kind. 
The thought of Na Bori gone forever, trapped in a tower because  no one cared to look  makes her furiously blink tears out of her eyes. No one else is looking, but Lee Jihye. She would never stop until Na Bori was safe by her side again.
Here’s another thing: Lee Jihye is not a knight. She is training to be one, under the instruction of an old warrior who has settled down to live the last years of his life in peace. There are other knights and princes traveling to the tower, fighting beasts and bandits in order to rescue the poor maiden trapped besides a dragon, hoping to gain glory and honor for their deeds. Lee Jihye just wants her best friend back.
It’s easy enough to avoid them; Lee Jihye’s been dodging them for weeks, knowing she’s too tense to handle anyone’s company. These nobles are planning to gain fame or riches or a wife out of this. The last knight who had said something about pitiful women always clinging to their saviors got his teeth knocked out and a concussion from how hard Lee Jihye punched him. She left him lying on the side of the road, fists shaking as she desperately tried to erase thoughts of Na Bori married to a pig like him. 
The less time spent with others, the better.
She cuts down another branch in her way and dives deeper into the forests that surround the castle.
“But what if you get sent far away?” she asks, stabbing her needle especially viciously through the fabric.
Lee Jihye is rather happy that Na Bori doesn’t want her to go. The rare occasion where Na Bori clings to Lee Jihye instead of the other way around are moments memorized and held onto fondly. She knows that there is no one in this world closer to her than Na Bori, knows that she’s the person who knows Na Bori best, but it’s nice to hear that she’s wanted.
Smiling, Lee Jihye reaches out and takes one of Na Bori’s hands, stopping her from tearing through the fabric. “I’ll still come back,” she promises, “Where else would I come home to?”
“And if you get hurt?”
“I’ll just get strong enough that nothing can hurt me.”
Na Bori is mollified, and it shows in how she relaxes and finally sets down her sewing. “You still have a long way to go then. Strong knights don’t cry over a little tumble down the hill.”
Lee Jihye flushes and scowls. “Hey! It was my first assignment and it was a steep hill. I hit a lot of things on the way down! It hurt! If anything, it would be weird if I wasn’t
  crying when she wakes up. Lee Jihye faintly hears Na Bori’s voice whisper, “Crybaby,” but it’s only wistful thinking. Forcing her aching body up, Lee Jihye wipes away her tears and prepared herself for another agonizing day cutting through the thorny and impossibly large brambles that block entry to the tower. 
“Okay,” she tells herself, “You’re almost there. Na Bori is waiting for you, so you can’t give up yet.” 
Many of the others have turned back. She no longer sees other groups making their way to the tower. It’s been eerily silent for the past two days. 
If she had been anyone else, if she had been sane, Lee Jihye would have turned around too. The entire area felt unwelcoming, downright hostile sometimes, and made every nerve in her body scream at her to turn around. A heavy pit of despair grows in her stomach and the hopelessness it causes makes her physically sick a few times.
Still, Lee Jihye presses onwards.
The longer it takes, the more she worries, her brain providing morbid images of Na Bori’s body rotting in the tower, or being eaten by the dragon, or any other terrible thing that could happen to kidnapped people. It has Lee Jihye on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and she’s been teetering on that cliff for a few days now. 
There’s no doubt that the area around the tower is full of dark magic. It gets into her head, twists around her bones, squeezes the air out of her lungs and slowly suffocates her each day. It gives her nightmares, makes her relive memories that feel like they’re happening again, like Na Bori is there with her only for wakefulness to destroy the illusions. Lee Jihye has only been in this dark magic infected forest for two days. Na Bori has been missing for a week and a half. 
The fear she feels for Na Bori and what she’s had to endure only makes things worse.
Lee Jihye hacks through another large thorny bramble and continues in deeper, ignoring the weariness that makes her want to collapse and never get up. Thorns have caught on her with each step she takes; most of the cuts clot up quickly, but the rest leave a trail of blood to guide her back out. 
The tower doesn’t look any closer.
She lifts her heavy arms to cut through another branch.
Na Bori shrieks and jumps onto Lee Jihye, clinging with all her might. Startled, Lee Jihye stumbles back a few steps, trying to regain her balance without dropping Na Bori. She wraps her arms around Na Bori, holding her up, and looks around for the source of her distress.
Crawling across the road is a centipede.
Lee Jihye can’t help but laugh, easily carrying Na Bori away from it, continuing down the road to her house. 
Na Bori, still holding onto Lee Jihye and making no moves to get down, smacks her shoulder. “Don’t laugh!”
“I can’t believe you call me a crybaby when you jump into my arms as soon as you see a bug.”
“It’s a perfectly reasonably fear! Nothing should have that many legs, or those weird eyes, or pincers, or--ugh!” She shudders, scaring herself by imagining the very things she hates about bugs. 
It’s cute, how insistent she is that bugs are weird, gross, and wholly unnatural. Lee Jihye has listened to these complaints for many years, and she wouldn’t mind listening for many years more.
“Don’t worry,” she says, adjusting her grip around Na Bori’s waist. “I’ll always be here to rescue you from the evil, scary bugs.”
Na Bori tucks her face into the crook of Lee Jihye’s neck. Her warm breath sends shivers down her spine; it takes everything in her not to stumble or drop Na Bori. 
“My valiant knight,” she says, and Lee Jihye can hear the smile in her voice. 
Who needs kings and queens? The only person she ever wants to dedicate her sword to is already in her arms. And if asked, Lee Jihye would gladly dedicate the rest of her life.
It’s just. There are little moments between them, where Lee Jihye thinks Na Bori also wants more, wants to push the limits of their friendship into new territory, but what if it’s just wistful thinking? They’ve shared what feels like their whole lives together, and there’s no guarantee that Na Bori wouldn’t leave one day. But if she stayed… If she stayed, Lee Jihye would give
up and let the brambles consume her body. She doesn’t know how long it’s been, how far she’s gone. Dreams and reality feel the same and she can’t quite tell which is which anymore. The tower is still the same distance away it was when she first saw it rising above the brambles. 
Everything hurts. Her ears are ringing. She’s been bleeding sluggishly for days now, always torn apart by new thorns. There’s no point in trying to patch herself up when the next set of brambles is ready to rip her flesh apart.
The tip of her sword drags through the dirt. She’s given up trying to cut a path through to the towers. Instead, Lee Jihye settles for twisting between the branches, uncaring for the thorns that reach out for her greedily.
Whatever dark magic saturates this place is slowly killing her. Lee Jihye doesn’t know much about magic as she’s never had a talent for it, but she knows enough to understand that this is incredibly powerful and dangerous magic. 
What does it have to do with Na Bori?
The answer is: nothing good. Who cares about the specifics? All Lee Jihye has to know is that the magic is going to (if it hasn’t already) hurt Na Bori. The need to save her from this, to bring her back somewhere safe, is what keeps her going despite how painful it is.
As much as her body screams at her to give up and just lie down until she withers away, Lee Jihye pushes forwards, ignoring every ache and cut and bruise.
She will get to the tower. 
Na Bori will come home.
Their hands bump together and they both reflexively jerk away. The air between them is awkward for a moment, then Na Bori laughs and picks up the last apple slice and brings it up to Lee Jihye’s lips. 
"Here,” she says sweetly, and Lee Jihye takes a bite, watches the juice trail down her fingers and wants more than anything to lick it away, to press kisses against Na Bori’s nimble hands, wants
to cry, to scream, to just be done with it. The tower looms above her, no closer and no farther, mocking her and she twists herself through another bramble, wincing as a thorn drags along her arm, beads of blood beginning to
fall into the river. The colorful leaves line the banks of the river and Lee Jihye watches as Na Bori carefully shifts through piles of leaves, searching for the mushrooms that she needed for dinner. 
“Jihye, come here!” she calls, waving her over. 
And Lee Jihye goes, as she always does. “What is it? Did you find
a way in, but it’s all just stone. No doors, no windows, just stone. She finally got past those horrible brambles, and now that she’s at the tower she can’t find a way in. It’s too tall for her to climb with her how exhausted she is. There’s no way up.
Lee Jihye can’t help but cry, screaming in frustration as she presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to breathe through the sobs that force themselves out of her chest.
The magic has only gotten stronger. Dreams, memories, reality, it’s all mixing together. One moment she’s walking through town with Na Bori, the next she’s trying not to gut herself on a large thorn. One moment she’s cutting down a branch and the next she’s waking up then walking past the brambles then waking up and seeing Na Bori smile then waking up and waking up and waking up but she can’t remember falling asleep.
Is this a dream? Is she awake? Is the tower before her real or is this just another illusion?
She’s come all this way. She can’t go back, not without finding a way in that fucking
tower over her and Lee Jihye is sobbing as she watches they push Na Bori into the river. The one holding her back is laughing meanly, saying something about how no one would care about what happens to them, just two poor common girls who only have each other, bet their parents wouldn’t even notice them gone.
N a Bori is coughing up water in-between insults, and Lee Jihye whimpers as her arm is twisted more and more and any more will hurt her, will break her bones, their hands are too big and strong and no one is coming to save them and
"Get up Jihye!”
There is a dragon curled around the tower. It’s smaller than what she expected. Smaller than what she remembers. It stares at her, but it doesn’t attack.
It looks just as tired as she is.
“Hey,” Lee Jihye rasps out. “I just want her back. Please.”
The dragon huffs and drops its head to the ground. There is a collar around its neck, digging into its flesh. Dried blood colors the edges of the collar, and Lee Jihye feels sick to her stomach. Whatever magic is taking place here is vile enough to hurt a dragon, a creature of pure magic from the core of the planet. 
Killing the dragon would be an act of mercy.
Lee Jihye approaches. It watches and doesn’t move. Its golden eyes are so tired; the dragon has already given up.
She raises her sword.
They are seven years old when they first meet. The new seamstress in town is delighted to see that her daughter will have a friend her age. She waves the two of them off to play and goes back into her store, ready to get started on mending clothes.
Na Bori grins, bright and lively; it’s the biggest smile Lee Jihye has ever seen, and she’s instantly enamoured. 
"Hi! I’m Na Bori. Wanna play?”
"Sure! I’m Lee Jihye, I live down there,” she points behind them to the cluster of houses near the fields, “and you’re the first person I’ve met who’s my age!”
Na Bori doesn’t waste any more time talking. She grabs Lee Jihye’s wrist and drags her along. It’s the first touch she’s felt from someone outside her family that didn’t hurt. She’s gotten used to hiding from the local bullies and crying when they were done with her, but Na Bori’s hand around her wrist is what makes her feel like she’s splintering apart.
It’s a good feeling. 
She follows along behind Na Bori, and remembers that kind touch whenever she thinks about why she loves Na Bori so much.
The collar falls to the ground. It was hard work cutting through it, but just because Lee Jihye doesn’t have a talent for magic doesn’t mean she can’t use it. It’s all about mana direction and intent. This forest is full of mana that feels rotten and wounded, but it is mana nonetheless, and Lee Jihye has spent days in it. It’s easy enough to focus on the memory of the first kindness another child showed her and use that to fuel the intent of  help  rather than  harm .
The dragon blinks and some life returns to its eyes. It watches her carefully as she sheathes her sword and wipes the sweat off her brow.
“I helped you get out of the collar. Please help me too.”
And it does. 
The dragon nudges its nose against her stomach and lets her climb on. She holds onto it’s large horns as it ascends and circles the tower. There is a single window in this entire tower, up at the top, and it is there that the dragon stops, using its claws to dig into the stone walls and cling to the tower so that Lee Jihye can climb in through the window.
It rumbles at her softly, and Lee Jihye pats its nose. “I’ll be back soon.”
The inside of the tower is dark save for the light that comes in through the window. It’s full of books and bones, strange symbols drawn on the wall and the floor. There is a man collapsed against a table, gaunt and covered in dried blood. His chest moves, the only sign that he’s not dead, and symbols are cut into his skin, turned black from channeling dark magic.
Lee Jihye doesn’t hesitate to run him through with her sword. He dies silently, not knowing the danger he was in the moment he stole Na Bori away.
That is, if Na Bori is even here. If she isn’t, Lee Jihye is going to have a breakdown, then go out and continue her search. But she’s sure that Na Bori is here. 
She has to be. 
In the back is another set of stairs that winds up, and Lee Jihye climbs them, leaving her sword out just in case.
It’s much darker up here, but still Lee Jihye can make out the bed and a person lying in it. There’s a table besides the bed, full of sharp objects she doesn’t know the use for, and small vials of blood. Dread fills Lee Jihye and she approaches the bed to get a closer look at who is on it.
Na Bori sleeps peacefully.
Her arms are bare and full of healing cuts. Lee Jihye collapses, half-laughing half-sobbing in relief. She reaches out and shakes Na Bori, trying to rouse her from her slumber, but Na Bori doesn’t stir. 
She’s as still as a corpse. 
Lee Jihye shakes her harder, then pats her cheek. “Bori-ya? Hey, Bori-ya, I’m here. I’m here to take you home. Wake up, will you? Please, wake up.”
Na Bori remains motionless. She’s never been a deep sleeper, or a still one. Seeing her so still and silent terrifies Lee Jihye. 
“Please,” she whispers, grasping one of Na Bori’s hands and pressing her forehead against it. “Please, wake up.”
Lee Jihye sobs. She went through all this and now that she’s here, it doesn’t matter. Because Na Bori is stuck in a magical sleep that Lee Jihye can’t wake her from. 
Desperate, Lee Jihye pulls on the rotting mana around them. Blood drips from her nose as she pushes herself through exhaustion and pain, letting the decay take root in her body as she tries to use magic to break Na Bori out of her enchanted sleep. It hurts so much, behind her eyes, in her throat, around her heart. It hurts but there’s nothing else she can do, so Lee Jihye keeps pulling the mana in, then pushing it into Na Bori through their joined hands, wishing  wake up wake up wake up come back to me please I missed you so much please come back I want to go home please don’t make me leave you .
She’s not made for magic. Doesn’t really know how to use it and it takes a toll on her body. She barely notices that she’s stopped crying. She just doesn’t have the energy to make tears. 
Lee Jihye resigns herself to death. Better than leaving without Na Bori. She slumps over, slowly losing her strength. Na Bori sleeps on.
They were supposed to have a future together. She wanted to find the courage to confess to Na Bori, to make a life with her, to become a knight for her. She wanted so much but she’ll never get it because their story ends here.
These are her final moments. She’s allowed to be greedy. Lee Jihye leans down and kisses Na Bori; their first and last kiss. She presses her lips against Na Bori’s mouth and just stays there, tired and weak.
Na Bori takes a breath. 
And she kisses back.
"Why do you want to be a knight? Isn’t it scary?”
Was it? Lee Jihye had always thought the stories of adventures and fighting monsters was really cool. She says as much to Na Bori, who scrunches up her nose.
“But what if you get hurt or run into a really scary monster?” she asks, clutching the skirt of her dress in her fists, knuckles white.
“Then I’d fight back and come to you so you could help me! Being a knight might be a little scary, but I’d also be strong enough to defeat any scary thing that I find.”
“Would you save me if I was in danger?”
Lee Jihye grins and grabs Na Bori’s hand to link their pinkies together. “I promise that I will always save you.”
     Na Bori has to support Lee Jihye as they both stumble down the stairs and make their way to the window, where the dragon is waiting. It coos at them, concerned, and Lee Jihye manages a weak smile that seems to reassure it. 
They somehow manage to get onto the dragon, holding onto ridges of its back as it takes off and flies them away from the oppressive force of black magic.
“Jihye?” Na Bori murmurs from behind her, arms wrapped around Jihye’s waist as she leans against her back. “Thank you for coming to save me. I kept dreaming of you and our promise.”
 “I told you didn’t I? I’ll always save you.” Lee Jihye wishes she could be cooler when she says it, but she’s exhausted and the relief of having Na Bori with her makes her voice small and weak. 
Na Bori presses a kiss to the back of her neck. “Sleep. I’ll take care of you until we get home.”
Feeling like a child again, experiencing her first kind touch from another, Lee Jihye relaxes against Na Bori, and lets herself drift off as her heart splinters and fractures, then comes together whole.
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whenimaunicorn · 4 years ago
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Holiday Party from Hell
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Bobo Del Rey x Reader
Words: 1775 Rating: T Summary: You and Bobo are both full of surprises tonight. The first one: that this revenant would even show up to your corporate holiday party. No content warnings.
Oh no. No no no, this cannot be happening right now.
You shudder as you hear that oh-so-familiar rasping voice cutting through the soft chatter of your company’s holiday party. “The punch is just delightful! Judith, did you make this?”
You knew they were inviting clients this year. The past three quarters had shown record profits and so your company had rented out the most expensive venue around for a little thank-you soiree. You just...it had slipped your mind that a certain construction firm owned by a certain Mr. Del Rey was one of those clients.
You try to duck out of the main party room while his fur-coated back is turned, but you end up right in his line of sight as his head swivels at the exact worst moment, almost preternaturally fast, into your direction. “Y/N!” he exclaims, loud and thick with razor-sharp cheer, “I was hoping I’d see you here!”
And to make matters so much worse, your direct supervisor just happens to be standing right next to you as Bobo Del Rey approaches with a brimming cup of punch in each hand. “Mr. Del Rey,” Justin greets him warmly. “I didn’t think you had been working with Y/N at all. How did she get involved on your contract?”
“She didn’t,” Bobo says, thrusting one cup at you as your boss looks expectantly between the two of you. No chance you can get away with being rude, now. You accept the cup but remind yourself not to drink from it. “Ms. Y/L/N and I have . . . other entanglements.” His fingers flutter against the edge of his cup.
If there had been punch in your mouth, you probably would have spit it. What was he trying to make it sound like? “We’re in the same darts league,” you say, thinking fast.
The truth is, you’re kind of a consultant for Wynonna Earp and the cops. Your NDA prevents you from giving them anything dirty on Bobo’s business entanglements, but you also happen to have a knowledge base of a more occult variety that has helped them out on a number of their other cases already. And also run you afoul of the head honcho of the local hell squad. More than once. You’re probably the only person in this room that knows the real threat that “Mr. Del Rey” poses.
“Darts, huh?” Justin says, continuing the conversation while you and Bobo stare each other down through the twinkling lights and safe, festive music. “You do that in bars, right?” He shakes his head. “You’ve got to watch out in those kinds of places, Y/N. All kinds of unsavory types.”
“Oh, she knows.” Bobo inches his hip in a little closer to yours. “I think that’s why she keeps coming around. Likes that little taste of danger.”
Ugh. He’s going to run his mouth until he gets you in trouble, isn’t he. Your boss is backing away slowly, a rictus smile plastered across his uncomfortable face. Although, it is just a little satisfying to watch someone make that patronizing bastard be the one to feel self-conscious for a change. “We all gotta do something that’ll make us feel alive, right?” you say, not exactly looking at either one of them. “Blow off some steam at the end of the rat race.”
Justin gives you an incredulous look. “Think I’ll stick to my bridge club, thanks.” He pretends to see someone waving at him across the room. A quick check shows you no one is looking even remotely in his direction. “Excuse me.”
Bobo sidles in even closer. “Bet that felt good,” he intones.
You release your sudden deep breath in a burst. “Kind of.”
“You know, if you’ve been needing to blow off a little steam—"
You dodge as it feels like he’s trying to put his arm around you. “Seriously?”
Bobo peers at you from under heavy brows, undeterred in the slightest by your rejection. “I’m always serious.”
The moment is broken by another coworker, shouting your name across the room. “It’s time,” the office manager, Judith, calls. “Get over here!”
Oh no. When you’d agreed to rehearse the cute little line dance set to “Jingle Bell Rock” with the crew from your half of the office building, it was only because you figured no one embarrassing would be here to witness it.
Bobo’s head cocks. “Time for what?” He can’t have any idea what’s coming, but he’s grinning anyway. Maybe he can sense your instant discomfort.
“Nothing,” you bark. “Maybe you want to go outside for a smoke or something?”
He looms in a little closer, with a shit-eating grin. “My dear Y/N, are you trying to take me someplace more private right now?”
“What? No. I’ve got to go do this thing over here, now. Bye, Bobo.”
The ambient fairy lights draped around the room glitter off his rings as he wiggles his finger in farewell.
No luck on getting Bobo distracted enough to prowl away while you go line up next to your office friends and wait for the hired DJ to cue up the track. As that distinctive guitar riff signals the start of the song, and all the little colored spotlights point at your group, you see the revenant standing right at the edge of the dancefloor, front and center in the crowd of spectators. He ducks his head and says something to Martha, the adorable old lady who works as your main receptionist, something that makes her smile and nod and pat his arm.
Creepy.
And then the beat kicks in and there’s nothing to do but step and wiggle and wave your arms in the choreographed little movements that had seemed so cute in after-hours rehearsal, now turned completely mortifying under the gaze of the enemy.
Your stubborn streak flares up, though, and you resolve to dance the hell out of the whole number. The only thing more embarrassing than doing a cheesy dance in front of everyone is doing that cheesy dance half-heartedly in front of everyone. So you skip and you swivel and give it the best jazz hands of your life.
You can’t help the grin that stretches across your face by the finale. Everyone in the office cheers and applauds at the end of it, so you all must have done alright with it. You high five a few of your fellow dancers before heading toward the edge of the dancefloor as a swing rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming To Town” begins. It’s got a pretty great retro vibe, and you find your limbs loosening a little to the beat.
“We have to start planning for next year!” your friend calls behind you, and you turn back to nod at her with an enthusiastic smile.
When you look back in the direction you’re walking, you just about crash into Bobo.
Although, “crash” isn’t really the right word. He’s timed it just right, scooping you up with one hand catching yours while the other snakes around your back and turns your momentum into a little spin.
Is Bobo…dancing with you right now? Your feet follow along before your mind can quite catch up. One hand at the small of your back, holding you in close, but not too close to interrupt the footwork, the other holding your arm up and out, Bobo is definitely pulling you along in the classic steps of a swing dance.
Maybe you’re crazy, but you don’t pull away. It’s probably just because of the rush of that little performance, or maybe because your stubbornness has yet to fade away. Your feet find the steps and you realize, maybe, just maybe, it’s because Bobo Del Rey is actually a really good dancer.
He leads effortlessly, precisely on the quick beat, guiding you into turns and twirls almost before you realize you’re starting them. And if every time his hand returns to your waist, he might be tucking you in a little closer, what of it? Guys that know how to do any of the ballroom dances are so few and far between. Might as well forget who he really is and just enjoy yourself for a while.
All you have to do is look anywhere but his face. Because if you look at his face, this will get too weird, too real, and so you focus on his shoulder and pretend you’re being swept around the dancefloor by some other tall man with a penchant for furs.
“You’re really quite good,” he murmurs, at the step that brings his mouth closest to your ear.
He spins you away, and you tell yourself that’s the only reason your heart starts to race. “So are you,” you say politely when he catches you back up.
“I think we work well together.”
You shake your head at the very idea.
Bobo laughs under his breath. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”
You set your teeth and fix him with a frown. “I know what kind of creature you really are. I’d never do anything on your side of the line.”
Bobo just clucks his tongue. “Don’t sell yourself short. Life has a way of…complicating things.”
He spins you out, fast and aggressive, so there’s not chance to give him another icy retort. When he pulls you back in, you’re up against his chest and you’re both breathing heavy.
Your eyes lock. You hope the look you’re giving him is a glare, and not anything that betrays the way his command of your body in this dance is…affecting you. Because, it kind of really is.
Thankfully, the song is almost over. Bobo breaks your staring contest first, eyes flitting around the dance floor. He starts guiding you backwards; maybe he’s found the right hole in the crowd for some final, flashy move. Your feet fly in front of him, and you realize you’re looking forward to it.
He doesn’t spin you, doesn’t attempt any kind of lift or twist. Instead, the two of you twirl toward the corner. And in the final trumpeting flourish of the track, your bodies rotate and he dips you. Deeply. His strong arm supports your back until you’re almost horizontal.
And he keeps you there, his wicked face looming over your own as the track shifts into the next song. He almost looks like he’s waiting for something. “What?” You try to make it sound like an aggravated snarl.
Bobo’s eyebrows jump, and he nods his head toward the ceiling.
You let your eyes focus past his face.
Fucking. Mistletoe.
You’re going to have to tell H.R. about this in the morning.
Link to my other Bobo works
Taglist:  @allsharingonebreath, @demoncrypt1066​, @writingfromasgard​, @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​, @peachieowl @savismith​ @ceridwenofwales @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @ivarinleatherpants​ @localfloorgoblin​
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chimswae · 4 years ago
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BTS Caretaker CH36
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Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?
- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)
- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au
- Word Count: 4, 208
- Author Note: Purely yoongi and seul moment XD
Previous | Next
Chapter 36
Unexpected call from Mrs Hwang few minutes ago caused Yoongi to drop everything that he did right way. Seul’s life way more than important than his unfinished songs, when he left his studio in hurry Namjoon threw the older guy a questioning look.
“Hyung..where-“ “I will explain to you later” Yoongi disappeared into thin air giving him no time to process. Confused, the tall guy returned to his studio in complete silence. Yoongi is a man, he knew how to take care of himself and not to get into trouble. Namjoon assured himself with his little pep talk to ease the uneasiness in him.
Wandering cluelessly around the city was Yoongi, trying to figure out Seul’s whereabouts. Clutching onto his phone tight, this would be his 20th attempt to reach her yet it brought him to voice mail. This unspeakable worries that he had at the moment was killing him softly.
‘Seul, where are you’ he looked down into the dark street. Hearing Seul’s health history from her mother scared him to death, he couldn’t imagine what will happen to her if he delayed the search even for a minute.
After thirty minutes searching her neighbourhood, Yoongi received a text from what seemed to be from Mrs Hwang. His eyes glimmered with hope upon reading the text, ‘Okay, her favourite place to chill. Hill’ he blinked in dazed.
‘Wait, hill? Do they have hill here?’ Yoongi scanned the area, taking in every movement until his eyes noticed a small alley between two tall buildings which will lead him somewhere. At least, he’s one step closer in finding Seul. His main priority was to bring that girl back safe and sound without any scratches.
Even though Yoongi was sceptical by his own choice, however he followed his heart and walk through the dark alley without much thought. The small board near the bench with an arrow and “To Signal Hill” really saved the day. His smile found its way back on his sullen face and now all he had to do was to find any sign of Seul there.
Following the path, he made sure his steps were slow just in case Seul was somewhere around the area. He spent 15 more minutes to reach the peak, and to his utter astonishment he didn’t see even a strand of Seul’s hair. Yoongi refused to give up so he resumed his search until he saw the dead end. Considering there were no one around, it spooked him a little to know a lady like Seul could be roaming around this area alone.
His ears perked up at the sound of inaudible murmur few metres from him, therefore he picked up the pace anxious to see what awaits him. The voice resembled a whiny young lady brought his attention to a familiar figure that stood wobbly on the big rock, which seemed can fit one human legs but due to her small size she could fit both legs there. Yet, it was risky as hell.
The girl screamed at the top of her lungs and bended over as she tried to balance herself on top of the slippery rock. His eyes widened in pure horror “JI SEUL? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING” he sprinted towards her angrily, grabbing the girl’s waist causing her to squeal at the sudden movement.
Seul clung onto him for her dear life “What the-“she didn’t need to see the owner of the voice because Seul could smell his expensive cologne. It was Min Yoongi, there’s no doubt. He tightened his grip around her waist, carrying her bridal style and started walking away from the dangerous cliff to another side of the empty area.
Setting her down carefully, Yoongi flew into a rage “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? ARE YOU CRAZY? THAT IS NOT GOING TO SOLVE PROBLEM? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST GIVE ME A CALL, SO I CAN HELP YOU. MY GOODNESS YOU ARE AN IDIOT SEUL!” he pushed his face into hers so suddenly that she shrank back, hiding her head like a turtle, afraid by his outburst. It took her by surprise.
A muscle twitched under his eye and he grinded his teeth out of anger, his fiery eyes looked deadly dangerous. Not to mention, he was breathing heavily, and she could see a visible flush on his porcelain skin.
Yoongi straightened himself, rubbing the back of his hair angrily “I…” she gulped in fear. He glowered upon hearing Seul’s timid voice, she looked up at him with her eyes slightly enlarged as she continued “I don’t think I need your help to find my missing necklace. It is not a big deal. Why are you yelling at me?” Seul had a dumbfounded look on her face.
“Wait-what? You are looking for what?” he was slightly annoyed by the fact that he had jumped into conclusion before asking the frightened girl the truth. The image of Seul stood on the rock and was about to roll down the cliff clouded his judgement.  
Her forehead creased into a deep frown, “You are looking for your necklace so you’re not trying to jump off the cliff and commit suicide?” Yoongi eyed glued on her trying to find the lies beneath those innocent eyes.
“What?! Are you crazy? Why would I jump off the cliff?” she shrieked in disbelief.
“So you are not trying to kill yourself?” relieved by her answers, he steadied his breathing and let out a loud sigh.
“YES!”
“I don’t think a sane person would stand on those rock for a stupid necklace! You could get hurt!”
“I dropped it on the ground, but I couldn’t see it, so I assumed it might roll off somewhere down there. Goodness, you are overreacting Min Suga!” Seul rolled her eyes. “For your information, it is not just a stupid necklace, that is a present from Jiminie” to call the precious gift from Jimin stupid offended her.
Yoongi scoffed at the idea of a gift from Jimin way more important than her life. “Yah, since when Jimin’s present is more important than your own life? Now you go all way to sacrifice your life for him, way to go Ji Seul!” he noted sarcastically.
“I will go all length to take the bullet from him one day, so what?” defensive, she crossed her arms mentally judging the man before her. She wondered how he ended up there and making an unnecessary scene which could blow up the whole place.
He inhaled a sharp breath before inquiring Seul about her sudden disappearance, “Where were you? Your mother is looking for you” he raised one of his brows with threatening look.
“So, mother sends you as an errand boy to check me whether I am alive or not?”
“Ya! I am not your errand boy. You- Ugh… where did you go? Goddamit, stop talk back woman. Just answer my question, will you?” frustrated by Seul demeanour, he let out a small grunt indicating his dissatisfaction.
“Here and there. What else mother tells you?” she asked without even bother to put much emotion in it. If Yoongi is aware about her condition, that will complicate things between them. She didn’t want to appear weak in front of a guy that she liked.
Did she just that out loud? A guy that she likes.
“I am sure that still doesn’t answer my question. Where is here and there? And your mother tells me everything. Drop that attitude, we have a lot to talk about” Seul stomped her feet a little out of annoyance causing the latter to hold back his tongue from laughing at her cuteness.
Through her clenched teeth, she responded angrily “Here and there means away from nosy people like you! Argh, trust me I don’t have anything to say to you, just go” she told him to leave her alone but the small voice in her head said something else. She wanted him to stay, to savour his warmness around her, she needed someone she can trust by her side.
“I am not moving, so what are you going to do about it?” Yoongi was adamant that he’s not leaving Seul alone until they talk. “Didn’t I warn you to stop talk back? Or I will have no choice but to kiss you” a playful smirk could be seen across his lips.
“Min friggin Yoongi! You are not threatening me with your sloppy kiss! If you are not moving, then I will make my move now. Goodbye” she shot a nasty glare at his way and started to walk away. Though part of her was calling for Yoongi to go after her, she didn’t dare to say it aloud. Why was she fighting with the demon inside her?
“Fuck. This woman!” he groaned lowly.
Alarmed by Seul’s movement, he hurriedly catch up on her, grabbing her arms turning the furious lady to face him “Please…just this one.. Give me a chance, talk to me” his cockiness and stubbornness earlier disappeared instantly. He’s pleading with his genuine eyes, even Seul could feel his desperation through his touch.
Seul blinked and unsure with herself. It was no doubt that part of her wanted him to stay but why was it so difficult for her to say it aloud? She wanted to ask how far he knew about her condition? If her mother decided to open her mouth, it could be everything right? Judging by Yoongi’s bipolar mood, he seemed to know everything.
“It is better to be alone. I don’t need your help”
“Why?”
She averted her gaze “Because no one can hurt me that way. And, you will never understand the hell feel inside my head, Yoongi” sighing with deep regret, Seul didn’t feel like talking about her own pain. Opening her wounds would only make her weak.
“Seul.. allow me to help you, don’t close yourself. Even you refuse my help, I will not let you go” he moved his hand along her arms making her shudder under his soft touch. Interlacing their hand together, she looked down at their intertwined hand and a rush of sadness embraced her fragile heart.
Could Yoongi heal her?
Was his presence enough to wash away the sadness and worries in her?
There was an eerie silence between them, it just made Yoongi scared of what might come from Seul. She could be predictable sometimes but with this unstable emotion, he could easily be pushed away by her. Contrary to his assumption, he was surprised to see her moving her up and down weakly as giving her permission for Yoongi to help her.
Smiling warmly, he gave her a soft squish as an assurance “Lets go” he whispered.
“Where are we going?”
“To my studio. There is something that I want to show you” tugging Seul behind him, they walked hand in hand returning back to his studio.
 ---------------
Entering Suga’s Genius Lab it amused her to see the place for the first time. It was different from the one that Suga had back in their dorm, it looked massive here with more equipment. She saw a professional keyboard at the corner of the room, and the studio itself gave off Yoongi usual manly scent. The smell itself floated in the air tickled her heart.
Closing the door behind him, he made his way to his leather seat, taking a seat on the swivel chair. Seeing the swivel chair moved brought back the vivid memory that she had with Yoongi. Her face turned pink as she quickly cupped both of her cheeks to get rid of the evident. He glanced over his shoulder taking the image of nervous Seul in front of him then it dawned on him she was reminiscing the sexy night that they shared.
Pushing the thought out from his memory, it was still fresh and clear. He couldn’t simply forget their intimacy. Smirking teasingly, he took her hand in his “Something that triggers your memory?” Seul coughed softly easing the awkwardness between them.
“W..hat do you mean by that?” she stammered.
“You are bad at lying, come on let’s get this done. So where do you want to sit? On my lap or on the floor?” he teased.
“Floor” Seul answered without any hesitation though she was seen blushing madly at the idea of sitting on his lap again. The last time she did that, they ended up ravishing each other lips. No in a million ways she let that happen again. Well, for now since she hasn’t really decided after she made up her mind about Jungkook whether she should choose Yoongi.
Lifting his eyebrows in amusement, he gave her that mischievous grin he was known for. “Really? But I can’t dirty my floor, so I would rather have you on my lap” he whisked her into his arms, settling her onto his lap.
The girl froze for few seconds before struggling, but he had locked his arm around her waist “Stay still, you are rubbing me woman” for some reason, his remark got her body stopped functioning momentarily. Her whole body was overflowing with electricity.
“Yo-u per-vert!” she slapped his chest lightly earning a low chuckle from the latter.
“If you don’t want to find anything poking you from below, behave yourself” Seul gasped at his remarks leaving her no choice but to pout in her seat. She made a mental note to make herself felt at home and acted normal.
Yoongi held back his laugh, as he reached out to turn on his computer. Seul’s eye lit up in excitement watching the equipment worked in front of her, more like watching Yoongi’s arms stretched out with her in between doing his thing made him ten times hotter. She was admiring the visible vein popped out on his porcelain skin.
Chewing her lips to halt herself from squealing over the image, she blinked her eyes few times and gathered her thought together.  “Alright, I am working on this song. It is for my future mixtape. I want you to listen to it” his gruffy voice sounded hotter since his attention was on the list of the songs on the screen.
He licked his lower lips out of habit, plugging the headphone before putting it over her head. “Give this song a chance, just three minutes alright?” his faint whisper over the headphone was still clear even though it covered her ears completely.
A mere murmur, all she was capable of “Okay, since you are ready” he pushed the green button and a mixture of soft beat blasted through the headphones. Yoongi leaned back in his seat, as he stroked his thumb over Seul’s waist. Scrutinizing her face, he watched her distressed face faded away and it soon replaced by a calm smile evident at the corner of her lips.
For some reason, Yoongi felt proud of his masterpiece and by far one of the best songs that he produced this year. He was taken off guard when Seul started to hum to the melody, tapping her fingers on the table with her eyes close. She looked as calm and serene in comparison to an hour ago.
Her lips curled into a cute smile as he drowns himself into the breath-taking view in front of her. The melody started to fade away and followed by Yoongi’s deep voice. He had rapped the song with all his heart and basically filling the emptiness inside her through the emotions that he expressed from the song. The lyric was so meaningful as it defined his own struggle in life.
Opening her eyes slowly, she was surprised to see Yoongi’s face who few inches away from her. His hot breathing fanned her cold skin, giving Seul a hard time to breathe properly. Yoongi smiled genuinely, pressing his forehead against her as the tip of their nose brushed.
Her small hand was clutching onto his back shirt seeking for his warmth. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest, and it doubled when his eyes bore into hers “How was it?” Yoongi mumbled. Caressing her cheeks lovingly, she exhaled a soft sigh enjoying this rare moment that she had with him.
“Amazing as always. The lyrics and the melody comforted me, how did you do that?” his eyes turned into crescent moon as he broke into his usual gummy smile weakening the bones inside her body.
“Honesty. The recipe of the song is honesty. I am expressing my worries and problems via the lyric. It helps me to get over the weird thought circulating inside my brain, so I can remain positive and strong” his short and simple justification touched Seul’s heart.
He continued “When I was diagnosed with depression I thought it was the end of it. I couldn’t think straight, and everything seemed ambiguous. I doubted everything and people around me. For once I thought to put me out of this misery, I must disappear from this world. I was wrong Seul-ah. I was very concerned over my look, and it made me hate myself. I wanted to become happy and strong but why am I getting weaker? Where am I heading to? Yeah, I am heading to that one place, but I will end up here again. Then I inquired myself, is there an end to this maze? My head was a total mess, it was clouded with rage and hate” she flinched, absorbing Yoongi’s pain.
She studied his stoic profile anxiously. Even though his face was hard, he remained stoic, yet she felt his concern. Yoongi resumed, stroking Seul’s flush cheeks with the back of his hand “I sought help from people and I worked hard for my mixtape. I found a way to express my rage through song writing, and I was relieved to tell all the stories that were in my heart. That is how you suppose to channel your frustration and worries, not by keeping it to yourself. I know you have a lot of things in your mind right now Seul. I want you to know, you have your mother, Hoon, your friends, BTS and most importantly me” her eyes watered.
“If you give me a chance to help you through this difficult time, allow me to stay by your side Seul. That is all I wish for” she stared at him with mixed emotion. The tip of his nose rubbed against hers, as he savoured this moment with her.
She was swayed by his words, and she let him to steal her heart away. Everything that Yoongi said was too beautiful and he never failed to amaze her. The fact that she was healed previously because of the songs that he produced, Seul found herself was falling deeply with this man. Was she really?
“Yoongi…” she called out softly almost inaudible for him, but he managed to catch the phrase coming out from her clearly just because she’s Ji Seul. The queen of his heart.
“When I wake up the next morning, I don’t want to live in fear. I want to be free from this pain with you by my side” her small hand made its way to his cheek, tracing it ever so slowly.
That answer was enough to put colour to his dull heart, she gave her trust to him, hence he would guard it close to his heart. “I will be by your side for the next ten seconds, minutes, hours and if it is possible eternity” he kissed the tip of her nose.
“Thank you..for not giving up on me” caressing his jaw softly giving it a butterfly touch, she kissed the corner of his mouth. Her kisses trailed off to his lips, as she leaned down a little to properly latch her lips over his tenderly.
Though he’s surprised by her bold gesture, knowing Seul had never initiated the kiss first before, Yoongi brought her head down to him, deepening their butterfly kisses to a real one. This time he poured more emotion into his action.
Smiling between kisses, he stroked her hair and embraced the girl close to him. Gently holding onto each other, they stayed glue to each other in this way for some minutes. They savoured every moment in each other’s company.
 Yoongi and Seul were now laying on the couch face to face, having their heart-to-heart talk. Yoongi was a great listener as he listened attentively to Seul’s story even though he already got the slight idea about her past from Mrs Hwang. He was glad that Seul wanted to go into details and told him everything. It was the first step to heal herself.
During the conversation, his arms were wrapped securely around her torso, only leaving the small space for him to watch her pretty face while she did the talking. Yoongi didn’t want to trade this night with others and wished they could stay like this for as long as they wanted.
“You are a strong girl; do you realize that? Even though you can be annoyingly stubborn sometimes, but I can tame you. I have less worry on that” he pursed his lips into a small pout.
“Basically, you are saying no one can tame Ji Seul like Min Yoongi did?” she cringed at the cheesiness though it sounded lowkey good to her. Seul just couldn’t get over the cringey feeling that she obtained from this man.
“It doesn’t sound bad at all, I like me. I like us” Yoongi enveloped her into a tight hug, which almost suffocate the latter. However, she soon found herself liking the closeness and threw her arm around his waist, returning the same passion.
The sound of his heart beating was so calming, she was convinced that Yoongi’s presence brought happiness to her life. Why she only realized it now?  “You can be so cheesy sometimes and very bipolar. One second you are yelling at me and not long after that you turn into a total pervert. Then, look at you now, acting all romantic and cheesy” she scrunched her nose, feeling confused.
“I am not acting romantic. Because I am born to be romantic” he sassed.
“Be careful Yoongs, you sound like Jin”
“I am nowhere near him, don’t compare me to him!”
“Right. But, you are so full of yourself”
“I am being truthful with you, that is all matter. Which means you are special to me. Very special” he kissed the top of her head, humming a soft melody from one of his mixtape. Yes, out of the blue, but she noticed that habit of his ever since their intimate moment.
It was cute anyways, his rough and raspy voice made it extremely homey.
“About the song that you listened a moment ago. I wanted you to have it” Seul looked up to meet his gaze, finding some sort of confirmation to what she just heard a minute ago. His eyes were genuine with no hint of jokes.
“Yoongi, that song is amazing. You should include it in your future mixtape. I am sure it will get a lot of love from Armys” she shook her head in refusal. As much as she loved the song considering the comfort that she gained from it, Seul did not want Yoongi to put her above his career and Armys.
Yoongi pushed her slightly higher, to close the gap between them. He smiled “I want you to have it. The song is special as it helps me to curb my loneliness and settle some issues in me. So, I want to make it special. Only both of us have the access to it” her eyes were brimming with tears and within a second she let it fall startling the rapper.
“Why are you crying? I am sorry baby if you feel it is too much-“ a soft lips brushed against his that didn’t really give him time to process. She pulled away with a teary smile “You did nothing to apologize. Instead, I should apologize to you. I only receive but I don’t have the chance to give back. It makes me feel bad” said Seul bitterly.
“Don’t be nonsense. I want you to promise me that you will come straight to me if you have problems and stay by my side. Can you do that?” his smile was addictive. It lured you to explore the deepest core of his heart.
She sniffed a little and nuzzled their face together “I promise” he hummed happily. “But can you promise me one thing too?” amused, he nodded signalling her to continue her words.
“Urm...Can you stop smoking?” eyeing the girl with suspicious, he frowned.
“I only smoke when I am stressed out. You happen to run into me when I am having that moment”
Seul glowered “Smoking can kill. I don’t want you to smoke. If you are stress talk to me, please promise me that?” he heaved a deep sigh before nodded in agreement. She cheered happily, burying her face at the crook of his neck. “Thank you” her softness melted his heart.
“Seul, you are driving me insane. I don’t want to let you go ever” he muttered with determination. He’ll keep his words till the end.
  This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2021. All Rights Reserved
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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago
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Empires on the Horizon V
Jason is a CEO: Part V
Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff
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But the most beautiful things in life are just not things.
They’re people and places, memories and pictures.
They’re feeling and moments and smiles and laughter.
-unknown
“Charles Beckendorf,” Jason answered the phone with a smile, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hello Grace, how are you?”
“Absolutely wonderful,” And he was, he hadn’t felt so calm in a long time. “What can I do for you my friend?”
“I need your help with the wedding. I’m planning an outdoor structure with video screenings of all our favourite memories and you have two things that’ll make my dreams come true.”
“Anything for you Charlie.”
“The gorgeous meadow on the far side of town, you own that right?”
“Yep, you want to set up shop there?”
“Yes please,” His eagerness carried through the phone, “And can you send me any pictures or videos you have of us so I can add it to the slideshow.”
“Of course, is that all?”
He could hear the excitement in his friend’s voice, “That’s it, unless you know anyone who’s willing to look after the shop while we’re on honeymoon?”
“I can’t say I do but I can ask Hazel to hire a temp if you want?”
“I’ll suggest it to the ladies and tell them to get back to you.”
“Sounds great, and good-luck with the project. I’m excited for the wedding.”
“Me too man, me too. It’s still surreal to me that I’m getting married to my best friends.”
“You deserve the world Charlie.”
“No way, I am crazy emotional these days.” He sniffled.
Jason laughed, “You’re always emotional Beckendorf.”
“Screw you,” He snorted, “See you soon, and thank you again.”
“Bye man, have a good one.”
He ended the call with a smile. It was unbelievable to think he would be going to his friends’ wedding in a couple months. Just the other day he was sitting in a lecture hall laughing at Beckendorf’s impersonation of their business lecturer. Just the other day he was helping Silena and Drew paint the walls of their boutique. It was strange to face the reality that they were all grown up now– moving on with their lives, living them.
“Ready to go Boss?” Hazel’s head popped around the door.
“Yep, you have the files?”
“All in the room already, anything else we need?”
“Maybe some coffee and a miracle?”
“Unfortunately I can only provide one of those things, and it’s not the helpful one.” She gave him an apologetic look.
“Well I guess wish me luck then,”
“You don’t need it Boss, you’re gonna kill it today.”
“What would I do without you Miss Levesque?” He sighed gratefully, walking to the elevator.
“Forget which day of the week it is, and which shoe goes on which foot,” She grinned.
“Hey, the shoe thing was one time.”
“That only works if you’re a toddler, not a grown man.”
“No excuse for the elderly then?”
She shook her head solemnly, “None I’m afraid.”
The elevator doors slid open.
“Meeting Room A5.”
“Let’s do this.” He took a deep breath and pushed the glass door.
“Hello Jason Grace,”
“Hello Octavian.”
Jason always felt some level of life seep out the room when he me with the head of Titan Industries. The man felt…synthetic; chalk white hair gelled down flat and calculating pale blue eyes that missed nothing. Gods even his skin looked unnatural, pasty and veined.
He reached out a small, bony hand in greeting.
“You look as incredible as ever Miss Levesque,” He lifted her hand to his mouth.
She gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Octavian.”
He didn’t seem to notice, or care for her discomfort and simply turned to Jason.
“So,” They sat down, “Have we come to some agreement?”
“With all due respect Octavian I don’t feel this contract is justified.” He glanced between the man and the folder.
There was silence, as if he were waiting for Jason to continue but two could play at this game. He was not willing to be taken for a fool, fumbling over himself to bow to this man’s whims. So he met those cunning eyes, a smile playing at his lips. The only sound was the scratch of Hazel’s pencil as she set up her notes for the meeting.
Moments passed, frozen in time, and then a sigh, “What can I do to ease your concerns?”
He struggled to reel in a smug expression. “Let’s start with the supply times.”
And they went back and forth, pulling and pushing, cunning and stead-fast, a fox and a wolf. Two hours later the contract had been amended to both their liking and they were once again shaking hands.
“I will ask my assistant to send over the revised contract, once my lawyer has looked over it.”
“I will do the same. Thanks for the meeting.” He guided the door open and waited for his guest to move through it.
“Until then, Grace.”
Without waiting for a reply Octavian snapped at his bodyguard and they disappeared down the passage.
“How do you feel about this?”
“There’s something not quite right Hazel, I just can’t figure out his angle.”
“Fully agree,” She shuddered, “He gives me the creeps.”
“Have you managed to find anyone else that could potentially take over this project?”
“Not yet Boss but you will be the first to know when I do.”
“Thanks Levesque, you truly are my saviour.” He gave her a grateful smile.
“Better put that on my gravestone,” She raised a brow.
“Done,” He laughed, “Any other requests?”
“Let’s get subs for lunch. I could do with some bread.”
He shook his head in amusement, “You drive a hard bargain but I’m willing to sacrifice for you.”
“Oh what was your plan Mr big-shot?” She pushed open the door to their offices.
“Today is burrito-bowl day and you know it.”
“I did forget,” She scrunched her nose, “But I’m extra grateful now.”
He snorted at her, ready to give a snarky remark before he was cut off by the shrill ring of his cell phone.
“Talk to me.”
“What’s up Grace, how’s your lunch hour looking?” Leo Valdez greeted.
“Levesque and I are going to get subs at Garden Girl, want to join?”
“I’ll meet you there.” And then he was gone.
“Ever the efficient caller isn’t he,” Hazel chuckled.
“Most days, which is weird since he’s a rambler face-to-face.”
They got to the contemporary restaurant on eighty-fifth avenue, spotting Leo outside.
“Hello,” His smile was wide as he hugged them.
“Who decided to give you a break? Don’t you have lectures right now?”
“Nah,” He grinned, “Guest lecturer teaching my slot this week, so I got two hours free.”
“The beauty of teaching postgrad, I assume?” Hazel asked.
“You know it Levesque!”
“What are we getting?”
“Don’t know about you but I’m getting the ‘Jazz It Up’ sub, got to stick to my New Orleans heritage.”
“Good afternoon my favourite customers? Where’s the rest of the crew?”
Jason smiled brightly, “Hello Katie.”
“Annabeth is at work, she has some big contract finally closing up,” Leo said by way of greeting.
“Frank is doing the security rounds at the office,” Hazel offered.
“Thalia isn’t even in the country right now.” He shrugged
“There’s still someone missing,” She frowned, scanning their faces, “Piper! Where’s the pretty lady?”
“Oh,” Leo winced, “Yea that is a touchy subject.”
Katie gave them a sympathetic look, “Well what can I help you with today? The usual for you Haze?”
They all rattled off their orders and chatted with the owner of Garden Girl while they waited. Jason had met Katie when he was doing business courses for his urban and regional planning degree. Her forest green eyes and bright smile struck him stupid the first time he saw her in their Entrepreneurship and Business Management lecture. He never had the guts to make a move, but it didn’t matter because she had just entered a relationship with Travis Stoll. Now they’re married and expecting a child, as is the latest update.
“How’s Project Hestia going Grace?” Leo asked, pulling out a chair.
“Ugh I’m having a hard time with the outdoor center. I’m not gelling with the contractor, and I don’t know what to do,” He scrubbed a hand down his face.
“I know I can’t ask what exactly is wrong because of legal reasons but what do you need done?”
He motioned to Hazel to explain as he bit into his sub.
“Basically we want to create an outdoor recreation center for the community which includes a gym area, a kids’ area, movies, a park and picnic area, rock climbing, you know the usual.”
“Right that shouldn’t be too hard to draft up,” Dark eyebrows scrunched, “But this guy is what? Trying to fuck you over?”
“Essentially,” Jason nodded, “The problem is we don’t know how?”
“Okay give me the weekend and let me call up some people. I think I know someone who can help.”
His eyes widened, “You are literally the best friend in the entire world. We’ve been looking for weeks, and we haven’t found anyone else who specialises in this.” 
Leo squeezed his hand, “I’m not letting you get screwed over, and my buddy would be more than happy to do it.”
“What’s his name?” Hazel had her phone out, the notes app open.
“Harley, he’s was the youngest kid in our engineering course. I think he graduated with his masters when he was like twenty,”
Jason choked, “What?”
“The kid is incredible. He beat us regularly in our weekly electrotech competitions.”
“Well tell him to give us a call and I’ll set up a meeting with Jason next week. We have until next Friday before we sign contracts with Titan.”
“Sounds good,” Leo plucked a pen he kept behind his ear and scribbled something on his hand, “So Jase,” His grin was trouble.
The blonde narrowed his eyes, preparing himself for trouble.
“What happened with you and Percy? Last I heard you were going on a date on Tuesday and then getting married.”
It was Hazel’s turn to choke, and after she recovered smacked her boss on the shoulder, glaring as if to say what the hell did you not tell me?
He rolled his eyes at his best friend, “I didn’t even get his number because I left so abruptly. And anyway I hear he’s dating Reyna now.”
Leo’s hickory eyes widened, “He’s what?”
“Yea I went by the school about a month ago and Nico told me they were dating.”
“How do they even know each other?”
“They met at the school. She was visiting Nico and he was wanted to become a sponsor cause he used to go there.”
“Yea sounds about right, he’s crazy nice.” Leo nodded
“How have I never met him before the dinner?”
“He moves around a lot,” Leo shrugged, “I’ve only met him a handful of times because whenever he’s here he makes a point to visit Annabeth.”
“Well he sounds like an angel,” His assistant mused.
“Looks like one too,” He muttered, “It’s okay anyway cause I uh–“ He scratched the back of his neck.
“Oh my gods,” Hazel’s earthy eyes glittered, “You met someone!”
Leo clapped his hands, a smile as bright as the sun on his face, “Who are they?”
“We’ve been on one date so no making a big deal about it.” He gave them a pointed look, “But Thalia set us up and she’s… wow.”
“Oh you are real caught up, aren’t you?” They raised twin brows at him.
“She’s just indescribable. She’s gorgeous and that’s the least impressive thing about her.”
“Well tell us everything.” Hazel prodded.
“Okay she’s a vet. She has four sisters, but she doesn’t talk to them much. She believes in order, oh it’s glorious. Everything in its space and a plan for everything.” He looked at Leo then, to which his friend flipped him off and then motioned for him to continue.
“She eventually wants to open her own animal clinic. And most importantly she gets along with Thalia.”
“She sounds like a dream Jase,” Hazel squeezed his shoulder, “I’m really happy for you.”
Leo nodded, eyes bright with love, “You deserve some happiness bud.”
“Thank you guys,” He found it hard to breathe as the overwhelming gratitude he felt for his friends swept through his body.
“Valdez, you’re going to the lake cabins in a couple weeks, right?”
“Oh yep,” Leo wiggled his eyebrows, “And guess what?”
“You are not!” He yelled, and then lowered his voice, “You are lying to me right now.”
“Oh gods,” Hazel caught on, “Are you ready? No wait of course you’re ready! When, how, what?”
“I bought the ring a couple weeks ago. We’ve been talking about it for a few months and this just feels like the right time.”
Jason whistled, “My best friends are finally getting married.”
“Oh gods I hope she says yes,” Leo looked a little sick all of a sudden.
“Of course she’s going to say yes. You guys have been inseparable since that first maths lecture when we all went to the wrong class.”
“There’s no way she turns you down, I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” Hazel agreed.
“The way we look at each other?” Leo frowned at her, confusion evident in his face.
“Like you’re the only ones in the room. Like she is the match and you are the striker.”
Jason nodded, “The moment you two locked eyes at the bonfire it was like the universe threaded two strands through the same needle.”
“Well now I’m emotional and feeling much more confident about it.”
They laughed then, getting up to hug each other. Jason felt the world settle, still, slow. The wind whispered softly, and beams of sun caught between them. If nothing else he had this, and he would hold onto it until his bones were dust and his soul was a star once more.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
So many weddings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open): @lesbian-peanuts
@leydiangelo
@queen-of-demons-and-hell
@msdrpreist
@sparkythunderstorm​
@nishlicious-01
@lucyisblue
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actress4him · 4 years ago
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Whumptober 2020 - Day 4
Another hopeful ending today! Also featuring a bit of Pidge whump. As always, please check the tags and let me know if I missed any. And if anyone wants to comment on/reblog any of my Whumptober fics so far that would make a fantastic birthday gift! 😉
Read on AO3
Read on FFN
Day 4 - Collapsed Building
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Warnings: claustrophobia, impaling, blood, internal bleeding, broken bones, overuse of the word quiznak
“All the royals and diplomats are clear. What’s everyone’s status?”
“Just coming down the stairs,” Lance puffed. “Hunk’s with me. Be out in a tick.”
“Keith? Pidge?”
“On our way.” Keith skirted around a table and shattered vase that had fallen when the ground started shaking, and kept running. “We’re on the lowest level, but not sure...” He glimpsed a familiar room through an open door. “Wait. I think that was the dining hall we just passed.”
“It was!” Pidge confirmed from a few feet ahead.
“Okay. You guys need to hurry. The rebels could be back with more bombs any minute, and I’m not sure how much more the palace can stand. Allura and I are gonna get everyone underground; you all head to your Lions as soon as you’re out.”
“Roger.” 
“Headed that way now!” Hunk replied.
"Quiznak." 
Keith nearly ran into Pidge, who had skidded to a halt in front of him and was messing with her gauntlet. “What is it?”
“The way we came in earlier is blocked. Looks like it took a direct hit.” She pulled up a glowing schematic of the palace as Keith took in the piles of beams and stone in the hallway to the left. “We’ll have to go this way. It’s longer, but it’s our only choice.”
He let her lead the way once more, not only because she had the map but because he wanted her to set the pace. He could easily outrun her, he knew, but there was no way he was leaving her behind. They’d make it out. They had to. Maybe the rebels were done. Maybe there wouldn’t be any more - 
His thoughts were interrupted by another ear-splitting explosion and the floor rocking beneath them. Pidge stumbled, but Keith caught her by the arm and quickly righted her. 
“Go, go!” 
She picked up the pace, and Keith tried to ignore how wide and fearful her eyes had been. He didn’t have time to worry about that, anyway. Shiro was yelling in his ear, wanting to know if they had made it out yet, and somewhere high above them ships were droning and another bomb was whistling. And getting louder. In fact, it was louder than any of the others he had heard so far, and for the first time, he heard the actual impact on the roof before the explosion. 
His heart in his throat, he leapt forward without fully realizing what he was doing. “Pidge!”
Then there was pain.
And darkness.
The next thing that Keith was aware of was a far off voice calling his name, over and over again. Parting his superbly dry lips, he attempted to answer, but all that came out was a groan. Why did he feel so heavy? It was as if every single muscle in his body weighed three times as much as it should. He blinked open his eyes, but the darkness barely retreated. There was only a faint glow, like that of the insignias on their armor.
“Keith?” The voice came again, and this time he was fairly certain of its owner, though he was unsure of why he couldn’t see her when she sounded so close.
“P-Pidge?”
“Oh, thank quiznak.” Pidge drew in a shuddering breath, sounding close to tears. “I was so scared you weren’t gonna wake up.”
Had he been asleep? He ran his tongue over his lips, but it was just as dry as they were. “What...I don’t...”
Pidge’s voice softened. “The rebels, remember? They dropped one of their bombs right over us, and you...”
He had jumped on top of her. The memory hit at the same time as the pain, and Keith screamed.
“Keith! It’s okay, it’s okay! Ugh, I mean, I know it’s not okay, but...” Pidge floundered for words. “Can you...can you tell me where it hurts?”
Everywhere. “M-my leg.” That was the worst, at least.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure my leg’s broken. Like, I think there’s maybe like a rock or something sitting on top of it.” She sounded so nonchalant about it, but that was Pidge, he supposed. Analyzing the situation and relaying the information was what she did best. “Do you think...is that kinda what yours feels like?”
“No.” He attempted to flex his foot and had to clamp his teeth together to keep from screaming again. “It, uh...it feels more like it was stabbed.”
“The fact that you know the difference between a broken bone and a stab wound just by pain is concerning to me,” she deadpanned. “Okay, anything else?”
Keith tried to focus past the searing pain in his leg to take stock of the rest of his body. He still felt heavy, though he now knew that was probably because of the three stories worth of debris on top of him, and everything felt like one giant bruise. “Pretty sure some ribs are broken. Can’t...really feel my arms...” 
“I’m just glad you can feel your legs. I was afraid your back might be broken. Since it’s not, I’m gonna try to scoot out from under you and see if I can get a look at your leg.”
It took Keith a moment longer than it should have to process that statement. “Wh-...wait, are you...under me?”
The explosive reaction from Pidge was not what he was expecting. “Well, yeah, since you tackled me like a frickin’ idiot! I swear, you and Lance and your stupid, frickin’ self-sacrificing tendencies...”
If his normal social skills weren’t bad enough, right now he hurt way too much to be able to come up with a proper response to that. “Uh...sorry? I guess? I just...wanted...”
“You just wanted to keep me from getting hurt, I know. I got it.” Though her tone was still angry, he thought he heard it waver with another emotion.
“But...you still did. Get hurt.” And he hated that fact more than he hated his own pain.
“It’s not nearly as bad as it could have been.” Not nearly as bad as you, she didn’t say, but he heard it anyway. She sighed. “Thanks, I guess. I mean, I don’t like you sacrificing yourself for me, but...at least this way we’re together, right?”
“Yeah. Being alone right now would -“ his words caught in his throat as his leg gave a particularly intense throb -“would suck.”
“Yeah.” Silence fell for a moment, then he could hear her draw in a deep breath. “Okay. Gonna start wiggling out to the left now. Still not sure how you didn’t know you were laying on top of me.”
Once she started moving, Keith was able to free his left hand and reach out blindly until he found something to brace it on, leveraging himself up slightly to give her more space. The movement made that one particularly sore spot near his kidney flare up dramatically, and he swallowed back a gasp. That was...probably not good. No need to worry Pidge about it, though, when there was nothing she could do.
“I assumed...y-you were debris.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He managed a small smirk. “No offense to you. It’s...probably the...armor.”
By then, Pidge had managed to wriggle her way out far enough that he could actually see her face through her helmet. She gave him a tiny smile before twisting and craning her head back to look at his leg. “Quiznak. That’s...quiznak.”
“Yeah, kinda...kinda feels that way.”
She dropped back down so that they were face to face. “So, bad news is, there’s a reason you feel like you were stabbed. Best I can tell, there’s like, an entire beam going through the middle of your thigh.”
The mental image combined with the pain made his stomach roll, but he swallowed it back. “What’s...what’s the good news?”
“Uh...the good news?” The stumped look on Pidge’s face made it clear that there really hadn’t been any. “The good news is...Shiro made us wear our helmets, so neither one of us have major head injuries?”
Keith huffed, regretting it when his ribs protested. “Yeah. Point for Shiro, there.” Before coming to the dinner and meeting tonight there had been a whole argument between him and Allura on whether the helmets were necessary for a diplomatic event. “I assume the...comms are out, though?”
Pidge nodded. “At least our end is, though I doubt they can hear us, either. I...went ahead and said where we were a couple of times while you were out, though. Just in case.”
He wanted to say something to reassure her, despite not being too optimistic about their outlook, himself, but found himself suddenly unable to draw in a breath. Something gurgled in the back of his throat. It exploded outward with a violent cough that spattered on the inside of his face shield and left him whining pitifully and wanting to curl in on himself.
“Yikes, that couldn’t have felt good on broken ribs.” Her eyes widened. “Wait. Why are you coughing? Your helmet’s sealed, there shouldn’t be dust.” Leaning in, she cupped the side of his helmet with her hand and let the light from her armor illuminate the pinkish liquid. “Please don’t tell me that’s blood. Quiznak, that’s blood, isn’t it? You’re bleeding internally. That’s not good. That’s not good at all.”
“Hey.” Keith grimaced, already feeling more blood crawling up into his throat. “It’s okay. Don’t...don’t freak out.”
Pidge almost looked ready to throttle him. “How can I not freak out? We’re trapped under a crap ton of debris and nobody knows where we are and you are coughing up blood, Keith! It was bad enough that you were losing blood from your leg, but now you’re losing it somewhere inside, too!”
“Yeah, I know.” He was starting to feel the effects of it, too. Losing every few words that she said, his vision occasionally blinking out altogether. He coughed again, unable to hold it back any longer. “It’s...it’s ‘kay, though. Sh’ro...Sh’ro’ll fin’ me. Sh’ro...always fin’s me. He’s good...at that.”
“Whoa. Keith. No, come on, buddy, you gotta stay awake. Look at me.”
He pried his eyes open, unaware that he had even closed them. “‘m ‘wake.”
“Okay, good.” Pidge patted the side of his helmet. “You need to stay that way. Tell me...tell me something about yourself. Tell me about living in the shack, out in the desert.”
Keith scrunched up his nose, wondering why she would want to hear about that. “The shack? The shack was...borin’. Was lonely. Nobody...nobody out there...’cept me. Me an’ Blue.” He huffed a laugh, and wondered why doing so hurt. “Thought I was...goin’ crazy. Losin’ my mind. She wouldn’t...stop callin’ me, though. Kept me goin’. Needed...needed somethin’ to keep livin’ for, so...might ‘s well be...a voice ‘n my head.” He coughed again. “Owww. That hurts.”
“I know, bud.” If he wasn’t mistaken, which was a very real possibility considering the fuzziness of his head, those were tears reflecting in her eyes. He wanted to ask her why she was sad, but she was still talking. “I know it does. You just gotta keep hanging on for a little while longer, okay? Then Shiro will come and get us.”
“‘Kay. I like Sh’ro. He’s a good...good guy.” Keith let his eyes slip shut again. The darkness felt nice on his tired brain. It was almost as nice as Pidge. She was really nice.
“Nope, don’t close your eyes.” When he didn’t respond right away, she grabbed his shoulder and shook it slightly. “Keith, come on.” Her voice sounded choked.
Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes. “I’m tired,” he whined. “Need to sleep.”
“You can’t sleep until we’re back at the Castle. Then I promise you can sleep for a long time, okay?”
He sighed. It kinda seemed like something had been hurting pretty bad earlier, but now everything felt pleasantly numb. It was good for sleeping, but Pidge seemed really adamant about him staying awake. “I like th’ Castle. Th’ Castle’s nice. ‘S like...’s like home. Never...never really had a home...b’fore.”
Pidge nodded, her lower lip trembling. “Yeah. It is like home. I’m glad...I’m glad you found a home, Keith. You just stay awake and keep talking to me, and then the others will come and take us home.”
“Don’t...know if...I...can.” His eyelids were so heavy. 
“Keith. Keith!” There was the shaking on his shoulder again. “Come on, Keith, don’t do this to me!” She was definitely crying, now, but he couldn’t seem to make himself look to see why. “Keith!”
Everything was slipping further and further away, his body feeling as if it could just melt into the floor and disappear. He’d be okay with that. He was more than ready for it. It was only a shift somewhere above him that brought a jolt of pain and a gasp from Pidge that brought him back around, his eyes fluttering open once more.
Pidge caught his gaze and smiled through the tears that streaked her cheeks. “Look, Keith, look!” She cut her eyes up and he did the same. A shaft of light was piercing through their dark little hole, and up above the familiar groan of a Lion’s joints could be heard.
“They’re here, Keith. I told you they would come. We’re gonna go home.”
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breakingsomething · 4 years ago
Text
the fall part sixteen - the calm
basic summary: chase gets his kids for the weekend. anti makes three mistakes. some other stuff happens. this entire chapter is a disjointed mess and i am sorry.
trigger warnings: murder, blood, unwanted touch
tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight   @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow @graveyardlettuce @lower-your-expectationss
a dialing tone had never sounded so scary in all of chase's life.
by the time lucas picked up, he was sweating nervously, gripping the steering wheel of his car tightly with white fingers. he wasn't driving yet; just sitting in the car park outside the flats awkwardly, glaring at his reflection in the rearview mirror. he stuck his tongue out at himself as the tone clicked a voice came from the other end. "chase?"
chase immediately started talking. "hi, sorry, fuck, i didn't mean to stand you up, i swear on my life i didn't, i just - i - i got really distracted and i - i don't think properly sometimes, i am so so so so sorry -"
"it's fine," lucas interrupted. he sounded tired. "you don't have to apologize."
"but i do!" chase despaired, and leaned forward to knock his forehead against the wheel. "i'm so sorry, i - i didn't mean to forget, and i should have called you last night but i was in a bit of a state and i don't know what happened." he hesitated. "i'm not trying to - to make you forgive me or anything, cause obviously you don't have to, but i've… been stressed. i guess it's messing with my head. and i did want to meet up with you, i did. i swear."
there was a moment of silence, during which the ocean of chase's self hatred grew and he gave a small shuddering sigh, pulling the phone away from his face so lucas wouldn't hear. then, in a quiet voice, lucas said "what did you want to meet me for anyway?"
chase swallowed, scratching the back of his head beneath his hat. a car drove by his, and he watched it go, trying to think. "to - ironically, it was to apologize in person for freaking out on you like that," he said with a slight laugh. "i suppose i have more to apologize for now."
lucas paused. "how were you planning to apologize?"
a smile broke chase's lips. "well, i was going to buy us gregg's and a coffee or tea or something, and then i was gonna walk down the high street and give you the apology speech i had prepared, and then you were either gonna forgive me or throw your drink at my head and walk away."
lucas laughed loudly, a deep hearty burst of surprised warmth. chase found himself grinning at the sound. "chase, there wasn't much to apologize for," lucas chuckled. "you were panicking over something in a public space and you wanted to get away. i can understand that, i can. you don't have to tell me what set you off, and you don't have to try and justify not sticking around. i only wish you would have told me where you were going or let me drive you home or - or something. i was worried."
something swelled in chase's chest. "you're not mad?"
"i was a little miffed you stood me up, but i honestly can't stay mad at you too long," lucas said. chase could hear his smile on the other end of the line. "you're definitely under a lot of mental stress, considering the - everything that's been going on lately. but don't worry about it, k? you don't need more to stress over."
"let me make it up to you," chase said. "i'm - actually going to pick up my kids right now, but i'd like to see you sometime soon. to, uh. buy us gregg's." the peak of romance indeed, chase thought, then immediately squashed that thought as far down as he could in his mind and mentally hit it with a mallet. now was not the time to think about that. he turned the car key, waiting for the engine to start. "if that would be ok?"
"i - of course!" lucas exclaimed. "i'd love to, honestly. that sounds… that sounds fun."
chase's car wasn't starting. he turned the key again, listening to the coughing, spluttering sounds the car was making. he heard lucas speak up again. "uhhh… are those noises your car?"
"mm-hmm," chase grunted, practically kicking the brake pedal. "it's not - fucking - working. i swear to god, i cannot do this right now, ugh…"
lucas sounded almost amused. "well then, i suppose it's a good thing you're on a call with the professional chauffeur of hecate, am i right?"
chase's heart skipped. "you - you don't have to do that," he said weakly. the car made another rough wheezing sound, and chase hissed through his teeth. stacy would kill him if he was late, and while he could maybe take a bus, louise got anxious on public transport and he didn't want that for her. "my kids are a bit ridiculous sometimes, and i - are you sure?"
"absolutely!" lucas said certainly. something jingled on his end of the line. "i'll drive right over to yours to pick you up. what's the address we're going to?"
chase told him. "cool," lucas said. "see you in like, ten minutes. g'bye."
chase sighed and got out of the car, gently kicking the side of it before heading back inside. henrik was in the kitchen drying dishes. "did stacy call?" he frowned. chase shook his head, tossing his keys onto the shelf next to the door.
"car's bust. lucas is picking me up. i know, i thought he was gonna fucking hate me after yesterday." he winced. "ok, i should practice not swearing if i'm getting the kids, shouldn't i."
henrik raised an eyebrow. "ok, alright. what's wrong with the car?"
"it's not fucking - it's not fudging starting," he said, plopping down at the kitchen table. henrik snickered, and chase flipped him off. "fudge off. i'll cuss you out later, i swear."
"remember when you never used to swear cause you trained yourself out of it?" henrik grinned. "ah, good memories. let's go back to those times." he caught the look on chase's face and laughed. "oh, don't look so outraged. what are you going to do, call me a poopy head?"
they bickered for the following ten minutes, until they heard a car drive up outside and chase paled. "shit," he gasped, forgetting his no-swear rule in an instant. "ah, shit, i can't do this."
henrik clapped a hand to chase's shoulder, looking him right in the eyes. "chase brody, i have known you for exactly four years now, almost to the day, and you have never been a pussy bitch about anything. i've seen you fall through the porch and stab a piece of wood through your leg and still be making jokes on the way to the er. you are not a coward." he tilted chase's head up and yanked him to his feet. "now go out there and stop being a little bitch baby."
and maybe that inspirational pep talk was exactly what chase needed, because he felt strangely calm as he walked out and waved at the familiar car in the middle of the cul-de-sac, engine still running. "hey there," he grinned as lucas threw open the passenger seat door. "thank you so much for this, man."
"absolutely no problem!" lucas insisted. his hair was tangled and curly, his shirt rumpled and… chase squinted at him as he buckled his seatbelt.
"your shirt's on backwards," he told him.
lucas flushed and grabbed at the front of his shirt, twisting it to look for the tag. chase glanced away. "ah," lucas said. "so it is."
their eyes met, and they both burst into peals of laughter. it wasn't even that funny, but both of them were so glad for a distraction that it didn't even matter. "so tell me about your kids," lucas said as he turned the car to go up the street. "you told me their names, but not much else. what are they like?"
chase smiled, laughing softly. "well, louise is older. she's a papa's girl. she's just the sweetest kid, she's not great with people but she had the greatest imagination. she's told me all about this big world she has created in her head and she talks about it a lot, about all her characters that she says she wants to base books off one day." he paused to take a breath, watching the streets fly past out the window. "and connor loves his mama, he's younger by two years and he's a very sweet boy. he's better with people than his sister and spends a lot of time with his friends, and he loves baking and going out to exercise. not even sports. funnily enough, he doesn't like them because they're "too competitive." he just like running around in circles or doing roly polies across the grass."
he blinked, suddenly realizing how he'd been rambling. he glanced at lucas only to see him smiling wide, eyes crinkled. "no, go on," he said. "tell me more. what are louise's stories about?"
they talked the whole way there. by the time lucas pulled into stacy's driveway, he was feeling much warmer somehow. then he gasped, a sudden icy cold trickled down his back. "oh, sugar. i forgot to tell stacy you were - she might not recognize the car." he made a face, hissing through his teeth. "it's cool. she'll see it's me." he opened the car door, hesitating. "you coming? louise might feel more comfortable with a stranger if she meets you before we're all in a car together."
"uh - sure, yeah!" lucas agreed with a nervous smile, and chase's heart thumped in his chest as they stepped out of the car and up the pathway to the dark red front door of the house chase had once lived in with his wife and kids. this was never normally such an anxious experience for him, but with lucas by his side, it felt so much more personal. even the perfect ring of the doorbell hurt chase's ears. he clenched his fists as the sound of footsteps grew louder, a shadow appearing at the window, someone opening the door.
it was stacy. wavy golden hair, dark brown eyes, a bright blue blouse paired with red cutoff jeans. her face brightened at the sight of chase, then immediately dimmed into confusion as she caught sight of lucas. she shook it off, turning back to chase and quirking an eyebrow. "you're late," she said, as way of greeting.
"sorry, stace, my car wouldn't start," chase explained awkwardly. then he gestured to lucas behind him. "my friend lucas drove me here. he's gonna, uh, drive us back too."
stacy looked suspicious. "uh huh. nice to meet you, lucas."
chase winced at her dry tone, but couldn't really blame her. stacy had a lot of trust issues after anti had taken the kids two years ago. despite stacy's clear distrust, lucas stepped forwards with a warm grin. "nice to meet you too, miss…" his grin faltered, and he glanced at chase. stacy answered instead.
"wilson," she said. "stacy wilson."
"ah!" lucas said. "nice to meet you, miss wilson, and apologies for intruding like this. i'm just doing a favour for chase here. i can show my driver's licence if it'd help put your mind at ease at all about me driving with your children."
stacy blinked, then blanked her face again, showing no reaction. "i think i'd like that, if it's ok," she said softly. then she turned and called into the house. "lou, connor, papa's here!"
immediately, the sound of shrieking picked up, and the pounding of two pairs of feet crashed down the hall. "papa papa papa!" cried two loud voices, and then the kids burst into view, pushing past their mother and latching onto chase tightly. little blonde connor, with his hair falling in his eyes and toothpaste stains on his overalls, and blue eyed louise, chestnut hair tied into intricate braids that fell down the back of her pink hoodie. they laughed as they held him, both babbling so quickly chase could barely keep up.
"papa, papa, we made brownies with ice cream yesterday and they're so nice!"
"we went to the youth club again on wednesday and i got to make a house out of lolly sticks!"
"oh, and i found a cat and i named him johnny but mama wouldn't let us keep him - who's that?"
both children peeked round their father's legs to look at lucas, who was looking considerably more nervous than he had before. he waved, shoulder's almost at his ears. "hey there," he said with a reassuring smile. "my name's lucas. i'm a friend of your papa's."
they were silent for a moment. connor was the first to speak. "what's your last name?"
lucas looked taken aback. "ah - ross. it's ross. why do you ask?"
connor tilted his head. "you look like a teacher. should we call you mr ross?"
lucas suddenly laughed. "that won't be necessary." he put his hands into his pocket, silently rummaging for something. "connor, is it? your father tells me you like running and baking. honestly, that sounds like a fun combination to me. i really like baking too." then he turned to louise, who shrank back behind her brother slightly despite being taller than him. "and you must be louise. very lovely to meet you. i hear you like writing and drawing! that does sound fun. i bet you make really cool stuff." he suddenly pulled out two five pound notes from each pocket, grinning at the way the kid's eyes lit up. "you guys could buy some cool stuff with this. maybe you can go on a shopping trip this weekend."
connor shrieked with excitement as he took both notes, passing one back to his sister, who was still lurking quietly. "thank you, thank you, thank you, mr ross! we'll spend these on good things, promise!"
chase chuckled in disbelief, grinning at lucas's proud expression. "are you trying to make my own kids like you better than me?" he laughed, knocking his arm against his friend's. connor, meanwhile, was leaping up and down in front of stacy, holding up the blue and green note.
"look, mama, we got money! we can buy cool stuff!" he crowed. stacy gave an uncertain smile, glancing up at lucas with concern in her eyes. she was still worried. chase could see that. so, it appeared, was louise. she clutched her note close to her chest, staring shyly down at her blue trainers, although she had a little smile on her face at the same time. stacy, though - for a moment chase was worried she wouldn't accept it, that she'd tell the kids to give the money back. she hesitated, looking down at them, then sighed.
"well - you're not spending it on sweeties, you understand?" she said, forcing a smile. it was just that one sentence that made chase feel an immediate sense of relief. she'd approved. and while chase would probably have to talk to her more about this on sunday, this was happening now, and chase couldn't have felt better.
"come on, kiddos. let's get this going," he beamed, and connor cheered as he bounded into the car. louise was much quieter about it, but as she went by, chase heard her murmur a small "thank you" before climbing in beside her brother.
"please take care of them," stacy said softly. she ran her hands through her hair, suddenly looking exhausted. "they've been through so much already. don't let them hurt more."
she was speaking directly to lucas, despite not right looking at him. lucas relaxed, tapping his shoes against the path. "i won't," he said firmly. "i promise. oh, and here's my license, since you wanted to see -"
while lucas spoke with stacy, chase buckled up the kids into their seats. "mr ross is super nice, papa!" connor exclaimed, kicking his legs. "are we gonna go shopping? what can i buy with this money? how much is this money? there's a - ooh, there's a five in the corner, and it's got winston churchill on it - we're learning about the world wars in school, so i know who he is, papa, i'm so so so so clever!"
chase laughed as his son rambled, then turned to his older daughter. "you ok?" he asked quietly. louise nodded, clinging to her sonic plushie and smiling.
"tell mr ross thank you," she whispered. "he is nice. is he your friend?"
chase sighed softly. "he is my friend," he murmured, guilt still heavy in his chest. he was going to have to make this up to lucas with far more than just a trip to the local bakery. "and you two can call him lucas if you like. no need to be so formal."
he heard lucas say goodbye to stacy then walk round the side of the car to get in the driver's seat. "are you guys all ok?" he asked, looking at the kids in the rearview mirror. they both nodded, louise ducking her head shyly. chase and lucas exchanged smiles. connor and louise liked lucas, albeit maybe due to a little bit of bribery. stacy hadn't freaked out. this was starting off well.
"let's go!" chase said, and the kids cheered as he turned to lucas. "thank you," he said softly. "i'll make it up to you."
"no need," lucas grinned, glancing does at the dashboard. "your kids are sweet. it's my pleasure, honestly."
chase leaned back in his seat, listening to lucas chat with the kids and the ac blowing into the car to cool them down. this was good. maybe things could be good. maybe this was the start of things looking up.
-
anti hadn't meant to do it. at first.
two men had jumped him as he walked down the streets at maybe three in the morning, having gone out to get some supplies from asda before finding a shelter. "what have you got there, tosser?" said one man, grinning. he was holding a knife. so was the other man. they were both big, bigger than anti, both wearing dark clothes and masks over their faces. they looked down at anti like he didn't stand a chance.
honestly, anti just couldn't believe he was getting mugged for the second time in a week. the first time, he'd been caught completely off guard, taken down immediately before he'd had the chance to take his knife out. this time, he had a small switchblade that he'd nicked off a man at the shelter. he could feel it in his sleeve as he held up his hands, warm from his body heat. maybe he wouldn't have to use it. maybe.
but maybe he wanted to.
he thought he blacked out. he remembered laughing - laughing as much as he could in his condition, a wheezing, clicking laugh - and he remembered the blade held tight in his hands, and he remembered dark blood splattered against dark walls, clawing hands, screaming, screaming.
when he came out of his dizzying red haze, two men were lying dead on the floor.
his hands were red. probably. anti was red-green colourblind, and it was very dark, but even with that he could imagine how bright the blood was, scarlet against his pale skin. in his vision, it just looked like ink. thick, disgusting ink, smelling of iron and death. the men had already gone ashen. lifeless. flat eyes. anti used to get high on this, elated by the thrill of tearing a a life away, of hearing agonized screams and pleas for help. now… now he just felt sick.
he hadn't killed anyone since maybe last christmas. that had been the one year anniversary of dapper leaving, and anti had felt so miserable and alone that by the end of the day, at least seven people weren't going home to their families that night. anti had revelled in it. i lost my family, so you get to lose yours too! you're not even real! just characters made by jack to flesh out my world, my world! you're not real! none of this is real! only dapper was real, dapper was real and i lost him, i lost him forever!
seven people. maybe more. it was sickening that anti couldn't remember how many wives, husbands, brothers, sisters, children, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, had sat and waited for their loved one to arrive safely, getting more and more worried as the hours went by, cheer fading with the anxiety of it all, until eventually they got a call from the police letting them know that a person of the description that they'd been looking for had been found, mutilated, soaked in blood, under a bench, in a box, shoved under a truck, on christmas day, christmas day. anti didn't care. he was hurting so badly that he didn't give a shit about anything.
now it was nearly october, nearly a year later, and vomit was rising in anti's throat as he looked at the bodies. he swallowed it back - throwing up was so painful that he'd rather stay miserable than let it out at all - and shuddered, stepping backwards, trainers slipping on the wet, uneven concrete. a sudden calm came over him. he'd killed them. him. not red or bat or anyone else. blood on his hands. he should have enjoyed it.
would he have enjoyed killing those seven people last christmas if he'd been able to go back in time and tell his past self that one day he'd be in their exact position, held down as he was tortured, in agony, but unable to die? was that the reason why he'd been unable to feel his normal exhilaration while killing them? had he seen himself in their eyes?
two wasn't enough.
it was dark as fuck. not many people around. there was, however, a brunette woman in a pink jacket walking along, head down against the world. anti's heart raced. he didn't think this was right. he didn't think this was right.
but he did it anyway. as soon as she went by, anti grabbed her and - and - he didn't think. there was just a knife in her stomach, and she screamed, and oh, that sound elated him and made him feel sick at the same time. he twisted the knife and clamped a bloody hand over her mouth. his head was pounding, black spots dancing in his field of vision.
three people dead. so much blood on him.
had he enjoyed it the way he always had? he couldn't even tell.
it was only a moment before his legs gave out beneath him and he sank dizzily to his knees against the wall of a building, fingers scrabbling for a hold so he wouldn't pass out. he had forgotten this. this would usually be the part where he'd glitch the cameras, loop the footage and delete all record of what he'd done, and turn to static so he could travel somewhere through the phone lines to go wash off. he couldn't do that now. all he could do was stare helplessly, little wheezing breaths escaping his lips as his chest squeezed tighter and tighter. why, why, why did this hurt, why was he so close to throwing up? he closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. don't freak out, don't freak out.
too late for that. because he was - all he could think of was -
“excuse me, sir, are you alright?”
he glanced up to see a woman with dark brown hair and a long blue coat peering down at him with concerned hazel eyes. “‘m fine,” he muttered, not wanting to get other people involved. he looked away from her into the street, hoping to communicate that he wanted to be left alone.
anti needed to catch a breath. he wasn't that weak now. he wasn't.
apparently he hadn’t learned enough about human body language, because she crouched down next to him. “why don’t you come inside?” she purred, pointing to a doorway behind her that said ‘"staff only" in scrawled font. “it’s nice and warm. don’t worry, i’ll say you’re with me.”
he was now beginning to panic. “leave me alone,” he said quietly.
no, no, he could feel her hands on him. he wasn't weak anymore, he wasn't, look at how far he'd come since then.
the woman laughed lightly. she was drunk. he could smell the alcohol on her breath. “hey now, don’t be like that,” she hummed. one of her hands touched his arm gently, and he recoiled in disgust. “really, i just-”
for the past three weeks he had been carrying around a knife. it was a switchblade that he could pop up and down. he had stolen it from an antique shop; he assumed it was valuable, but he didn’t care. it comforted him, and he always had it in his pocket, especially when he was out of the house.
the knife was in the woman’s stomach before he could stop to think.
fuck, fuck, stop touching, stop looking, fucking hell -
anti threw the knife away and clutched at his head, bringing his knees up to his chest. he was going to be sick. this was - it was too much. too much. too much happening, he could feel hands all over him somehow and something warm was burning his cheeks, he was retching, why had he gotten so cocky, why hadn't he been able to stop red taking him away? this was pathetic!
doctor had been right. everything he had said yesterday - anti should just be satisfied with the damage already done. why was he feeling like this now? why did he never know when to quit? he was hurting and it was all too much, make it stop, make it stop make it -
stop -
stop…
anti hadn't meant to do it. at first.
two men had jumped him as he walked down the streets at maybe three in the morning, having gone out to get some supplies from asda before finding a shelter. "what have you got there, tosser?" said one man, grinning. he was holding a knife. so was the other man. they were both big, bigger than anti, both wearing dark clothes and masks over their faces. they looked down at anti like he didn't stand a chance.
honestly, anti just couldn't believe he was getting mugged for the second time in a week. the first time, he'd been caught completely off guard, taken down immediately before he'd had the chance to take his knife out. this time, he had a small switchblade that he'd nicked off a man at the shelter. he could feel it in his sleeve as he held up his hands, warm from his body heat. maybe he wouldn't have to use it. maybe.
but maybe he wanted t-
something banged down the street. all three men whipped round as they heard whooping, a group of people coming out from seemingly nowhere. "the fuck -" said the taller man, and he grabbed his friend's shoulders to drag him away, both of them racing down the alley and out of sight. the group of people passed them by, led by a person who's hood was up to shield their face. on the other side of the street was a brunette woman with a pink jacket head down against the world. she, too, disappeared from view.
and anti was seemingly alone again.
seemingly.
-
the day before, right after henrik and marvin's conversation on the stairwell
henrik von schneeplestein wasn't a stupid man. marvin just liked to underestimate him. he quietly watched his brother disappear downstairs before sneaking into his room, softly clicking the door shut behind him.
marvin hadn't even tried to be subtle. henrik had heard him talking to anti through the door, a one sided conversation that he obviously couldn't catch the other side of, although it wasn't hard to figure out what was going on. and even though he couldn't immediately see anti when he slipped inside, he knew he was there. he could feel his presence.
"i know you're in here," he said aloud. "i could hear marvin talking to you. oh, let me guess. the rain is too much for you, so you're taking advantage of marvin again. i'm not a fucking idiot, anti."
something clattered in the wardrobe, like something being dropped. henrik stiffened, then walked towards it slowly, still talking.
"jackie told us everything, you know. about how you were taking over his mind, how you were manipulating his nightmares, trying to make him one of your fucking puppets. just like jamie, eh? you needed to replace him. it was your gottverdammt fault that he - snapped!"
henrik threw the doors to the wardrobe open. anti was in there, scowling - henrik presumed marvin had told him to hide, the sneaky bastard - but stepped out as soon as he was revealed, hands flying.
"you think i corrupted him?" he signed, so fast henrik almost couldn't read his hands. "you think it was my fault he ended up an unhinged sick bitch? he was always like that and you just never saw. all i did was nudge him. without meaning to, of course, but apparently a few bad dreams were enough to push him to doing the shit he did. you can't blame anyone else for what happened. even me."
he was breathing heavily by the time he finished, clinging to the door with his good hand tightly. henrik didn't break eye contact with him even as his mind raced with everything anti had just said. he was lying. anti was a liar, a manipulator, a trickster. this had been his fault and he couldn't deny it.
henrik grabbed anti's shirt and pushed him up against the wall next to the window. "stop it!" he cried, furious. "just stop it! haven't you done enough, aren't you satisfied with the damage you've done -"
anti suddenly shoved henrik off him, grabbing the curtain for support. he didn't sign anything. he just glared, rage blazing in his eyes like fire. henrik stared down at him, teeth gritted with the effort it was taking not to scream or break something or throw anti right out the window in the hopes that it would make him feel any better.
"don't - fucking - come back here," henrik spat, voice shaking. his nails dug into his palms so hard he could feel it bleeding. "you hear me? all you've ever done is hurt. aren't you - don't you get sick of it? of being so hated? fuck, i just - stay away from us."
anti sank to the floor under the window, evidently too tired to do anything but hiss softly through his teeth. henrik turned on heel, disgusted, and stormed from marvin's room, listening to his brother downstairs in the kitchen and trying not to break down.
-
present day
the door to naomi's shop creaked open, the bell tinkling loudly to alert her to a customer's presence. she sighed softly in despair, despite having opened the store with the intention of people coming in. that hadn't meant she wanted to interact with people.
naomi knew she wasn't supposed to have reopened the store so soon after her relapse. but nai's blomma magi was literally her only source of income, and she couldn't afford to keep it closed. although she had considered calling marvin to ask him to come help out, but didn't want to bother him anymore than she had to. she cringed thinking back on how she'd exploded at him already. she didn't want to end up saying anything any worse and have him leave her forever.
she was honestly surprised he hadn't already.
the customer came round the shelves to the counter, and naomi jumped upon seeing who it was. at first she thought it was marvin, but a moment of closer inspection revealed it was anti, a big jacket on and a black scarf wrapped around his mouth. he came right up to the counter, looking down to pull something out of his pockets.
"anti," naomi said, surprised. her accent still made it sound like "andy," and she hoped he wouldn't be too upset about it. "what are you doing here? i mean, good to see you, but -"
anti pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it down on the counter, sliding it towards naomi. she picked it up curiously and read it. have you seen marvin? it read.
"i - yes, i suppose i have," she said, confused. had anti gotten a haircut? it looked nice. she wasn't going to say that though, obviously. "last i saw him was at the park yesterday morning. why? you know where he lives anyway."
anti pulled out a pen and began to scribble, holding the paper down with his left hand as he wrote. need to find him as soon as possible, he wrote. he's not at the same house. i can't find him and i have to.
naomi frowned. "they - they're at the same flat as they've been for almost a year. weren't you just there the other day?"
anti looked up with pleading grey eyes. please just tell me the address, he wrote. this is important. i swear i mean no ill intent.
well, that was a weird thing to say. but naomi's head was still foggy and her thoughts were barely making sense. she quickly gave anti the address, which he wrote down, his eyes crinkling in a grateful smile. "thank you," he said, a sign naomi knew, and she nodded uncertainly, smiling back at him as he turned and left. it was only then that she realized anti must have been wearing some kind of makeup under his eyes, because she couldn't see any of his scars.
there was something off about all of this. something very off. naomi wasn't sure what, and she didn't have the energy to think about it, but she knew.
however, she didn't have time to think about it. as she watched anti go, she could see something odd about the sky outside. her lips parted softly at the sight, and she found herself unconsciously stepping forwards closer to the door to take a look. and oh, the sight of what was happening outside took her breath away.
all she could do was stare at the sky in wonder.
-
connor and louise had both had a fantastic day with their papa. they had gotten to see uncle henrik and uncle marvy again, and they had all gone to the park for a little while before going to papa's house and watching a movie. uncle henrik had made them popcorn, and papa had bought them each pretty new shelves for their room. on top of all that, papa's new friend had given them money and talked to them so nicely. it had all been good. right up until they woke up in the wee hours of the morning to a strange sight outside.
it was just a bright light at first, making louise screw up her eyes tighter and turn her head away from the window. but the glow was lighting up the entirety of their room, and she cracked her eyes with a soft moan. it was only when she looked properly that she sat up, gasping softly.
"connor," she whispered, shaking off her covers and pressing bare feet to the cold floor, padding over to her brother's bed and shaking him. "con-nor. wake up, please wake up."
connor groaned in his sleep, scrunching up his face and turning away. louise shook him again, poking his cheek. "connor!"
eventually, the boy whined softly and flopped round to face his sister. "what?" he moaned, then threw an arm over his face. "turn off the light, lou, it's too bright. what time is it?"
"i don't know, and the light isn't on," she said. she stepped aside to let connor see the window, and he squinted. "look at that!"
connor sat straight up, breathing in sharply. "woah!" he exclaimed, swinging his legs over the bed and standing next to his sister. "what is that?"
he quickly bounded towards the window, louise hissing words of caution behind him. "louise!" he cried, slapping both hands to the glass and pressing his face to try and see clearer. "the sky is falling!"
and he was right. the sky was falling.
it should have been pitch black outside. instead, the sky was lit up with a thousand vibrant colours, chunks of neon light streaming down to the ground like transparent meteors. wispy ribbons of colour were trailing through the stars to the buildings below, like the northern lights, but far more explosive. the kids gaped, awestruck.
"wow," louise gasped. "the sky is really falling."
the sky was really falling.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago
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Happy Together : 17
So the bell tolls
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Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve
Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.
Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.
Masterlist
Chapter Summary: Wedding bells ring and the reader hears them clearly.
Notes: Okay, so the fates aligned and I got enough time before work to edit this and get it out so thanks everyone for understanding. I love you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let’s just say, we’re in the endgame now.
I look forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3
-
One day. Your last night of freedom. No, not really. That was long ago. 
Time passed swiftly, you could barely keep track. Each morning and night mirrored the last. The same bed, the same room, the same man beside you. You didn't imagine that marriage would be much different. Your life was already his. You belonged to him. The ceremony was only a pretense.
Marriage. The word hovered over you. The reality of it just hours away. One sleep. One dinner. Another performance.
It was startling. How had you let yourself slip so far? Staring at yourself in the white dress, the veil, the ring sparkling on your finger. It was as if your very reflection had shattered before you. The happy bride-to-be wasn't you. It was what Steve had made you. 
Your cheeks hurt from the fake smile, your throat tight as you forced out your lines. He was always watching. Always there. His hand on yours as your mother and father marveled at the man they were all too pleased to call their son-in-law. They swallowed his lies so much easier. For once, they were proud. Not of you, of course, but of the man you attached yourself to.
Steve ordered the wine. He bemoaned that this restaurant lacked the variety of his own. Alas, a meal there would have to wait until after the reno. For now, this would have to do. He requested a Cabernet and your mother cleared her throat.
"Steven," She called him by his full name. She liked that. He did too. "If you will, Jim and I would actually prefer a champagne to celebrate the marriage. Our treat."
"Not at all," Steve waved her away, "I insist. It's on my dime." He turned to the waiter. "Champagne, then. And another glass. We are still awaiting another guest."
The waiter as good as clicked his heels and diligently ran off to fetch the wine. It seemed everyone in the city knew your fiance. Revered him. You had been foolish before. He was more than the local celebrity, he was their saviour. That you had ever thought you could seek refuge in this city was naive.
Heels tapped along the floor and neared your table. Your mother glanced over her shoulder and waved to your sister. Estelle, with her died blonde hair and perfect contouring belonged more than you did. Steve stood and you mimicked him.
Your mother hugged your sister and your father did the same. You recalled how they had barely spared a nod for you. Steve greeted her with a handshake and a kiss on the cheek, "You must be Estelle."
"And you're Steve Rogers," She sang, "Wow, I really thought you guys were playing me."
She turned to you at last. "Hey," Was all you could manage. She chuckled and pulled you into her arms. 
"Hey?" She held you back and looked you up and down. "Is that all I get?"
You felt the tingle behind your eyes. Your lips trembled but you kept your smile in place. "I missed you." 
"Oh yeah? Well, you know I'm always up for a trip to New York." She chided. "You have my number."
"I'm sorry," You didn't realize you had grabbed her hand. You released her slowly.
"No, don't be," She chimed, "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you!"
The waiter returned and you stepped back as he set down the bottle of champagne and the spare glass. You resumed your seat beside Steve, Estelle on your other side, and your heart sank. You loved your sister but even she would think you were crazy. Maybe you were.
Steve poured the champagne and handed the glasses out. "Oh, Essie, you must see the ring," Your mother tapped the table with a long nail, "Come on, show her."
You shakily raised your hand and placed it daintily on the table. The sparkling pink diamonds caught the light and Estelle gasped. "You know she has no taste but Steve did a marvelous job."
"Mom," You rescinded your hand as she reached for it.
"I think she has wonderful taste," Estelle grinned at you. Your mother always agreed with her, even when she was wrong. Her baby girl could do no wrong.
"Well, I'll allow that she had improved. That whole artist look...so drab," She rolled her eyes. 
You couldn't smile anymore. You glanced around at the other diners and gripped the edge of the table. You stood suddenly. Steve caught your hand quickly. Was it concern for you or that you'd try to flee? Could he see the treasonous thoughts behind your eyes?
"I need to use the restroom," You lied. "Excuse me."
Steve nodded and kissed the back of your hand. "Alright, honey." He let you go and Estelle pushed herself back to her feet. "I actually need to freshen up, too. I love the city but it's dirty."
She took your elbow and guided you past the table. You sensed Steve bristle as she did. Her hand slipped down and her fingers twined through yours as you neared the bathrooms. She pulled you inside quickly.
"Why didn't you tell me? I can understand you not telling them, but me?" Her tone was not unkind. She was your best friend after all and in her eyes, you had entirely blocked her out of your life.
"I…" You exhaled and lowered your head. You looked at her hand in yours. "Es," Your eyes were glassy but you sniffed back the tears.
"Did you see anyone?" She asked, "I know in uni, you had to see that counselour…"
"I'm not..." Your voice cracked and you shook your head. "It's been stressful. The wedding. Planning…" You sighed. 
"Mom sent me a picture of the dress. It's amazing," She squeezed your hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner." She swung your hand. "I know it's your special day so I haven't told them yet but I want to tell you."
"What?" You wondered.
"I got a sponsor. In England. Model and brand ambassador for big make-up line. Big," She was giddy. "I'll even be able to incorporate my Instagram. It's actually one of the reasons they hired me."
"That's...wonderful, Es," You hugged her again. Her dream was coming true. "I'm so proud of you. I can't believe--England?"
"Yeah, that's the part mom and dad won't like," She frowned, "But I'll be going all over Europe. Asia, too."
"Fuck them," You said. "Really. They don't matter. You should go and have the time of your life."
"And you? Your art? I checked your website but...are you going to start again after the wedding? I really wanted to sponsor a piece for my apartment...or should I say flat?"
The wedding. You had almost forgot. You felt yourself deflate and you backed up against the sink. "I don't know." You whispered.
"What's wrong?" She leaned next to you against the counter. "Nervous?"
"Yeah," You said weakly. "Nervous."
"Well don't be, I'll be right next to you," She rubbed your back kindly, "Maid of honour, and all."
-
Estelle wasn't enough to save you but enough to make you brave. If this were to be your fate, you'd meet it with dignity. Even in white. Even in misery.
You didn't sleep. Steve spent the night in the den and left you alone. Tradition, he said. Even with the bed to yourself, you couldn't settle. You rose in a daze; groggy and numb. You ate, dressed in jeans and a tee, and followed Steve up the stairs into the early morning light.
A church. Wow. You almost laughed as you drove up to the grand cathedral. It was the place where celebrities and socialites wed, not you. Inside, Steve pecked your cheek and parted as you were left in a small room. A talkative stylist began on your hair and you drank cold coffee from a paper cup.
Your mother arrived shortly after with the dress and was followed by your sister and your collection of bridesmaids. Each had their own stylist and your mother bossed hers around like Meryl Streep in that movie. Estelle told her to stop and you were glad for it. She wouldn't have listened to you.
Your make-up was light. Your face shone as if it were natural beauty and you leaned forward to look in the mirror. You looked good. You didn't want to admit it, but you did.
The dress was a challenge in its. The laces tied tight enough to crush your ribs. You struggled to breath and wobbled as Estelle help you into your heels. The veil was pinned in your hair and a necklace with a single pearl around your neck. You reminded yourself of those gaudy royal weddings that people lost their heads over. Ugh.
You tucked the folded paper Steve gave you that morning and tucked it into your bodice. Your lines. You hadn't read them yet. Dreaded it. You tried to breathe against the tight gown and closed your eyes as your mother's voice rose in another complaint. You didn't know if it was better to get it over with or enjoy the last minutes you had.
-
You hated that smile. That face. You held back a glare and forced your lips to curve in deceit. Steve's voice carried across the caverned ceiling, his words as sickly as they were sweet. You felt as if you would pass out; from lack of air, lack of sleep. lack of sanity. He held your hand as he recited the words. Carefully planned and yet spontaneously pronounced. 
When he went silent, you stared at him. Voices buzzed in your ears, the audience in a ghastly silence. He squeezed your hand and the priest's words came clearer. 
"Miss," He whispered, "Your vows."
You shook your head but the haze remained. With your free hand, you reached into your bodice and uncovered the folded paper. You drew your hand from Steve's and unfolded it with a shudder. You gulped, cleared your throat, but couldn't look at him. So you looked at candlestick behind him.
His writing blurred. Was it nerves or tears? Both. You shook and brought the paper closer. You focused on reading the letters. Speak! You glanced up and Steve's jaw ticked. You peered around the large room. Speak, goddamn it!
"Steve," You forced out, the first syllable the hardest. "Steve, my...love." You swallowed the repulsion. He didn't know. He didn't know you weren't his little doll. Didn't know that when you go the first chance you would run. Yes, run. "I've never been very good at these things. I express myself in pictures rather than words. I am no poet but some things are best said simply." You inhaled and he took your hand again, the other wavered as you concentrated on the paper. "To put it simply, I love you. There's not much more to say than that. Other than I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You're my true love, my best friend...my hero."
You almost crumpled the paper but instead folded it with one hand and held it to your skirt. The priest smiled at the two of you and made his final pronouncement, "...man and wife…" 
Steve pulled you close and you lifted your head just as his lips crashed into yours. The pews rumbled with applause and your stomach twisted. Finally, he pulled away.
"My wife," He whispered as he turned you to the audience and raised your hand in his, "Mine."
-
Steve hadn’t let go of you since the ceremony. His hand was always there, lingering. The limo ride, the dinner, the toasts. The latter the worst part. Empty words from those you didn’t know and those you did. Your father had taken the lead as your mother had little positive to say about you. ‘Finally, our little girl has got her head on straight--’ You were thankful when he swiped the microphone and you sunk into the endless folds of your skirt.
It all passed in a frightful blur. The time ticked by so quickly you were certain fate had you on some cursed list. You were hurtling towards the end and you weren’t ready for it. 
The DJ announced the imminent first dance and the walls of the grand banquet hall began to close in on you. Five minutes. Five minutes and all eyes would be on you again as you were trapped in the arms that would hold you for the rest of your life.
“Sweetheart,” You tugged on Steve’s hand. His grip was firm. “I gotta---” You struggled not to hyperventilate. “I gotta go…” You tilted your head. “You know…”
“Oh,” He blinked, “Uh, yes. Um, do we have time?”
“I’ll have to make it work,” Your panic was real but the reason not so transparent. “I’ll just...lift my skirts.”
He sighed. His brow furrowed as he thought. His blue eyes considered you. You shifted in your chair to add urgency to your act. 
“I can’t hold it,” You hissed. He shook his head and looked down the table. 
“Get your sister to help,” He checked his watch, “Three minutes.”
He stood and helped you rise. He walked you down the table and you tapped Estelle on the shoulder. You bent over her. “I need your help.” She rose and followed as Steve kept your hand in his. She had imbibed a bit too much already and she hiccuped as she trailed behind.
Steve escorted you to the hall and peered down it with a frown. His jaw twitched and you could see the suspicion whirring in his head. He turned to you as you grabbed Estelle with your free hand. He stared you down and reluctantly let go of you.
“Two minutes,” He warned, “They won’t wait.”
“I promise, I’ll be quick,” You pulled Estelle down the hall, “I need you to help me with my dress…” You let your voice carry.
“Again?” She slurred, “You know, I’ve seen these ones where the skirts come off--”
You turned the corner and glanced over your shoulder. Steve stood at the other end of the hall. His shoulders squared as he crossed his arms and watched after you. You disappeared around the bend and hurried Estelle towards the bathroom. You opened the door but kept her from going in. You let it close with a loud click and listened.
“Wh-” You clapped your hand over her mouth and signaled for her to hush. Her eyes rounded and you slowly pulled away. You knelt and carefully removed your heels as you nodded to her own.
You took your shoes and hers and backed slowly down the hall, keeping an eye over her shoulder as she wobbled after you. You could see the confusion but her drunkenness made her complacent. You gently pressed the long bar of the back door and eased it open. You waved her out and waited for her to follow.
You shut the door quietly and leaned against it. “What’s going on?” Estelle asked.
“I just--need air.” You tossed your heels and hers. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”
“A walk? It’s your wedding--”
“Es, let’s go,” You inclined your head, a desperate grimace on your lips. “Please. I need to get away.”
“Why? You’re so happy and--”
“I can’t explain now, there’s no time,” You lifted your skirts and bunched them in your arms. “Come on.”
“Where--”
“I don’t care where. I need to get out of this city.” You began across the parking lot. “Let’s go.”
She followed and stumbled behind you. You turned to pick her up, your arm around her back as you urged her past the rows of car. She giggled. “I can’t believe you. Running away from your own wedding. It’s like that mov--”
“Shh,” You heard the door and ducked behind an SUV. You pulled her down with you and smothered her mouth again. “I...I’ll go to England with you. Please.” 
She blinked and you kept your hand in place as you listened. Hard soles echoed across the tarmac. You kept low and drew Estelle behind you as you snaked around cars. The footsteps grew fainter until they were almost silent. 
You felt a sudden weight and turned as Estelle crashed into you and belched obnoxiously as she landed on top of you. You swore. Her body went limp atop you and her head slumped over your shoulder. 
The footsteps were upon you in an instant as you were trapped beneath the unconscious Estelle. Steve stepped up between the cars on either side of you and knelt with a huff. He hung his head and ran his hand over his golden hair.
“Honey…” His voice was laced with fury.
“Estelle...I just came to help her. She said she was gonna vomit and--”
“Shut up,” Steve snarled as he grabbed Estelle and lifted her easily from atop you. “And get up.” 
He slung her body over his shoulder and grabbed your hand as he stood. He turned you back to the banquet hall and dragged you along, your bare feet scraping on the pavement. 
“It’s too bad your sister had to ruin our night like this...your parents will be so disappointed.”
-
tags to be added in reblog
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missmalice202 · 5 years ago
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Designing Your Melody: Chapter 06 - Cherry
Chapter 01 - Chapter 05
“DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!” Marinette screamed into her headset as she tapped the buttons on her controller as fast as her fingers would let her.
“Dang, girl. Leave some for the rest of us.” Alya’s chuckle filtered though her headphones over the sound of gunfire. Her orange mecha that had been built for speed and precision performed a deadly dance as she picked off the few stragglers that Ladybug’s mecha had left behind. “You’re out for blood tonight, aren’t ya? Tough week?”
‘Tough’ didn’t begin to cover how frenzied the last week had been for Marinette. After hemming and embroidering and sewing THOUSANDS OF FREAKING SEQUINS, Jagged Stone’s new ensemble was finally finished. Why she had agreed to undertake such a herculean task at the last minute, she had no idea. Well, that’s not entirely true. She knew exactly why she accepted the job: she loved Jagged Stone and she loved a challenge.
Still, the fact that she was stressed out and sleep deprived remained. However, she was still too jittery from the numerous cups of coffee she’d sucked down over the past few days to go to sleep yet, so she figured she’d meet up with her clanmates and play for a little while until she finally came down from her caffeine high.
“Rena, I haven’t slept in 36 hours, I’ve stabbed myself a dozens of times sewing on all those stupid sequins that I thought would be such a good idea to add to his design, and I’ve had enough coffee over the past week that Papa could probably use my blood to make some of his famous tiramisu, so even though I’m freaking exhausted, there’s no way I can fall asleep just yet. I need something to relax me, so here I am..”
“Seriously, dude,” Nino added, “When you told us what you were doing, I thought you’d finally fallen off the deep end. I mean, you’ve got to be crazy to try to design and sew a photoshoot ready outfit for one of the biggest rock and roll stars in the world in just a week!” His avatar, a bright green design with black goggles covering the cockpit, threw up a translucent energy shield over his clanmates that glowed with an ethereal green light, easily blocking the incoming attack of an enemy captain.
“Hey!” Marinette yelled at her friend as she rushed toward the mini-boss, swords flashing as her cherry red mecha closed the distance and she engaged with the enemy. “You make it sound like you didn’t think I could do it.”
“It’s not that, my lady,” soothed Adrien, aka Chat Noir. “We all had faith that you’d get the job done purrfectly.” His onyx mecha landed next to Ladybug, his staff whirling, performing a perfectly choreographed combo attack with his partner in battle. “Fur real, we were just concerned that purrhaps you had kitten off more than you could chew and ended up burning yourself out.”
She closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself. She could literally hear how smug Chat Noir was through her headphones. “For the sake of what little sanity I have left after this week, please don’t start with the cat puns, Chat.”
“Why, I’m feline a little offended here, bugaboo,” he teased. “I’m just saying that there’s no one else who clawed pull what you did off.”
“That last one was a bit of a stretch, kitty.” She should just ignore him, she knew that. You’d think she would have learned by now that when she responded to his bad jokes and ridiculous puns, he layed it on even thicker, just to annoy her. “Seriously though, I didn’t have much of a choice! You should have seen what the stylist wanted Jagged to wear. It was just,” she shuddered just thinking about it, “terrible.”
Rena asked, “How bad? Come on, girl, gimme some details!”
“Ugh, it makes me sick just thinking about it. Imagine Jagged Stone, wearing a powder blue, see-through lace romper..” Her three friends howled with laughter at the mental image she conjured, so she continued to describe the nightmare she had seen in full detail. “Just picture it: THE Jagged Stone, clad in skintight lace booty shorts, white fishnet stockings, and silver glitter loafers. They wanted to stuff him into a silver speedo underneath that ridiculous romper. That’s all! Nothing but a silver speedo and translucent baby blue lace!” she snorted with laughter as she remembered how utterly uncomfortable the poor singer had been when he showed her what the record label wanted him to wear for his promotional photo shoot. “Oh my god, it was awful! I wish I could unsee that sight, but it’s now burned into my memory to haunt me until the day I die. I couldn’t very well say no to his pleading after I saw that abomination.”
“Ladybug,” Chat Noir tried to calm down enough to talk, but he was obviously having a hard time since he had let his guard down and had been killed in the battle. He used his respawn time to finally compose himself enough to continue. “As a life long Jagged Stone fan, you have my eternal gratitude for sparing the public from that visual crime against humanity.” He dissolved into another fit of giggles, causing a chain reaction among their friends once again and distracting them from the battle currently underway.
“I know.” Marinette took a deep breath. “And here I thought that they couldn’t possibly come up with a worse marketing strategy after that whole “perfume ad album cover” debacle. Yeah, I was wrong. This was much, MUCH worse,” she scoffed.
They all laughed hysterically for a few more minutes before they were able to calm themselves enough to carry on their conversation.
“By the way, milady, are you going to be participating in Fashion Week next month?” Chat asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve finally garnered enough of a reputation as a legitimate designer for my collection to be allowed to participate in the newcomer designer showcase on the last day. I’ve got my collection finalized, so all I need to do is sit down at my machine and make the pieces.” Her fingers flew over the buttons of her controller, sowing a path of destruction in her avatar’s wake onscreen as a new wave of enemies arrived to back up their leader. “Now that I’m done with the Jagged Stone’s request, I’ve got the time to work on my showcase designs.” With a final flourish, she and Chat Noir defeated the enemy captain, leaving Rena Rouge and Carapace to deal with the reinforcements.
The gathered the mission rewards and traveled back to their base.
“Hey, Ladybug,” Rena began, “have you selected the models you’d like to walk in your show? I’m sure Kitty Noir over here would be more than happy to help you out if you need.”
While Alya understood that Adrien and Marinette would probably only be “just good friends”, once a shipper, always a shipper. Over the years, she still created opportunities for her two friends to be alone together in the hopes that something would spark between them and her OTP ship could set sail. Was it wrong to ship your friends? She didn’t think so. Nino disapproved of her antics at times, but she just couldn’t help it. She wanted her friends to be happy and in her mind, they were made for each other.
Marinette had tried convincing her friend that she was more than happy with the relationship she had with the handsome, blond model. She was more at ease with him now and he could be himself around her, even if that did include his utterly atrocious sense of humor. Seriously, the guy’s obsession with puns was borderline unhealthy.
“I’d love to wear your designs again, My Lady,” he purred.
“Won’t you be busy walking in your father’s show?”
“The Agreste show is on the first day. I’ll have plenty of free time after that. All you’ll have to do is get me some of your dad’s famous macaroons as payment.”
She was ecstatic. Having a famous model like Adrien Agreste would bring people flocking to her show, even if it was to see him, not her designs. But since he’d be the one wearing her clothes, it’d be like killing two birds with one stone. “You have a deal!” she squealed.
His chuckle echoed in her ears. “Honestly, I’m getting the better end of the deal. Don’t underestimate the power your family’s bakery has.”
“Awesome,” Alya cheered. “You’ve got your male model. Do you need a female model too or have you found one already?”
“Actually, I texted Juleka Couffaine and asked her if she’d be interested and she said that she’d do it,” she said. “I haven’t really spoken to her since high school since we kind of lost touch with each other, but I’ve seen some of the ads she’s sone and I think she’d be a good fit for the theme of my collection. She’s out of the country at the moment on a job, but she should be back sometime next week, so until then I can get started on what you’ll be wearing, Kitty.”
“Sounds good, Bugga-boo. I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Your designs are always so pawsome. I can’t wait to wear them for you on the catwalk.”
She shook her head once more at his antics. “I’ll give you the last one, since that’s a legitimate pun.” Alya and Nino’s laughter rang in her ears as they laughed at their friends’ banter.
“You know, we were wondering if you’d be online tonight, Ladybug, since you’ve been MIA all week.” Alya said. “The others were asking about you since they hadn’t heard from you, but I told them you’d be on when you were done with your work.” There was a brief silence before she teased, “Viperion was especially worried about you. He said how you guys had done some grinding the other night wondered where you had disappeared to since you’re usually on every night..”
The idea of Viperion worrying about her caused warmth to blossom in her chest. To be honest, she had missed the calming effect his presence had on her. “Speaking of which, where is he? Did he say he was going to be playing tonight?”
Nino told her that he had spoken to him earlier in the day and that he would probably be on much later, if at all because he would be working late on a project that he had to completely redo.
A little disappointed that she wouldn’t get to play with her online friend, Marinette decided to call it a night and logged out, finally ready to get some much needed sleep.
 Chapter 07
*Sorry for the delay on posting. This chapter is just kind of a transition chapter, so unfortunately, not much is going on, but I really wanted cat puns and mental images of hard rockers in blue lace rompers hahaha. Next chapter will pick up and our sweet boi will get some screen time. I might even stop torturing him and throw him a bone ;D Until next time, Lovelies XOXO*
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anglaland · 5 years ago
Text
T-Cups
Fandom: Hetalia Relationship: USUK (fem!England/America) Rating: N / S / F / W Word Count: 2575 Summary:
America has a gag gift for England. Domestic fluff, crack. Based off of this post:
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AO3/FFN links are the most recent post on my blog if you prefer reading on those platforms. 
England is sitting in America’s living room, predictably curled up with a post-supper cup of tea, when America rounds the corner. Soft, yellow light, bathes the room, easy on the eyes for a quiet evening. It softens her face and sinks into her hair, lulling him into a sense of domesticity. As he steps forward, England catches his movement. At first, she only gives him the barest of assessments, before a familiar furrow finds itself between her eyebrows. “Bringing in the post this late?” she asks, mug halfway to her lips.
America grins. “Nah, I’ve had this one waiting for a while.” He crosses the living room in two long strides before plopping down ungracefully next to England (who reflexively leans forward, holding her tea carefully out of reach). In between them is a simple gift-wrapped box.
Nothing is ever simple with America.
Setting her tea down (away from America), England shifts on the couch, turning to face her gifter. “Do I even want to know what this is about?” she grouses, but her fingers trace the edges of the lid with carefully restrained excitement.
“What,” America says, leaning back with mock affront, hand placed over his heart, “a guy can’t buy a gift for the gal he likes? And you say romance is dead, England.” She scoffs at his melodrama, but America is already shaking his head, committed to the routine. “I thought you, of all people, would appreciate a little sentiment...but if you’re really against it…”
“Alright, enough with the theatrics!” she cuts in, yet there’s a smile playing on her lips. “You really ought to work on your guilt-tripping, it’s absolutely awful.”
Laughing, America pushes the box closer to her. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“I suppose it did,” England concedes. She looks up at America through her eyelashes, and America is suddenly aware of the closeness between them. If it wasn’t for what was in the box, he might have leaned in to steal a kiss. “Thank you, really,” she says.  “I do appreciate it.”
America returns the smile, and hopes it looks equally melting and not at all conniving. “I’m glad. When I first saw this, I knew I had to get it for you.”
He nudges the box even closer, and, poker face in place, watches as England lifts up the cover of the box...and stares.
Inside is a single bra.  
America observes, with glee, as her face transforms from fondness to confusion.
The cups of the bra have tea cups jutting out of them.
“Wha—” she begins to say, before realization dawns across her face, abruptly blanking her features.
She looks at America. Back to the box. Back to America, whose face is now in an ear-splitting grin, and who is shaking from restrained laughter.
“I should have known better,” she mutters, halfway standing up off the sofa. America jumps up to cut her off from leaving the room, finally succumbing to howling peals of laughter as he pushes her back down on the couch. “Ugh—get off,” she grunts, but America is shaking too hard from his mirth to listen properly.
“It’s just—ain’t it—isn’t it great?!” America chokes out, gesturing to the box. “It’s perfect for you. C’mon, you’ve got to wear it,”
“Hilarious. Your sense of humor continues to astound me,” England deadpans. “...did you really buy a brassiere with tea cups attached? Where on earth did you even find such a thing?”
Seeing that England has transitioned from denial to acceptance, America lifts the teacup bra out of the box, pushing the container away so he can sit. “It’s a long story,” he handwaves away. “But onto the more important issue—England, it’s pretty much your national duty to wear it.”
“Absolutely not,” says England. “You know, just because I drink tea doesn’t mean that I’m obsessed with it!”
America stares at her. “You literally went to warover tea. You drink multiple cups every single day. Hell, you and China even set up tea stations in meeting rooms because breaks aren’t enough for y’all. You’re drinking tea right now!”
“That’s just a coincidence,” she insists. “I suppose to someone like you, who can’t appreciate the appeal of a proper cuppa—”
“—there isn’t any, by the way—”
“—it might come off as obsession, but really, there is nothing unreasonable about it.”
America disagrees, but the conversation is getting away from his real purpose: seeing England half naked in this bra. Never let anyone say America couldn’t prioritize when he really needed to. “So it isn’t completely unreasonable,” he lies through his teeth. “But—”
England is crossing her arms and settling back on the sofa, fully prepared to continue being stubborn. Fuck it, he isn’t above begging at this point. “...alright,” he says, affecting a defeated tone. “If you’re really against it, I won’t push.”
England is squinting at him, obviously in disbelief. America dramatically slows his movements and turns to stuff the bra back into the box, letting the teacups obnoxiously clink against each other. “It’s just a gag gift, anyway. Thought it be funny ya know, but I know British humor is like advanced, or whatever, so guess it isn’t…”
An arm reaches around him to snatch the box out of his hands. “I’ll wear it,” England huffs. “Just this once. And I thought I told you to cease the theatrics.”
America beams, and doesn’t mention that it’s worked twice now. “Aw, England, you’re the best!” He grins, and leans in quickly to peck at her lips. Red splotches appear on her cheeks, and she looks away in pretend annoyance, but he can see her suppress the curves of a smile.
“Well, turn around, at the very least,” she demands with mock modesty (as if last night never occurred…), and America is in a good enough mood that he obliges.
He can hear the clinking of the cups as she puzzles out how to wear the garment. Finally, she announces that he can turn back around.
“Ta da,” England says, waving her hands with mock pizzazz.
It’s...it’s better than expected.
The overall look is surprisingly attractive. The cups jut out, affecting a busty illusion, but oddly seem to accentuate the roundness of her breasts.  Covered in the soft glow of the lamp, hair down and loose over her shoulders, America is distracted for a brief second.  
England raises an expectant eyebrow. “Does it match your expectations?”
“Oh yeah, it’s great,” America says in a faraway voice. He reaches out to hook his fingers through the handles of the teacups, fitting his hands over the curve of her breasts. He tugs downwards, and England winces as the straps dig into her shoulders.
After a moment, America says, “You gotta admit, it is pretty funny though.”
England eyes America. “...there’s some humor in it.”
“And you look pretty fucking hot wearing it.”
She swats him lightly over the head. “Git,” she mutters, but lets him kiss her again anyway. If America had any chaste intentions to begin with, they disappear quickly as his mouth opens wider and he kisses England with more insistence.
She pauses –– as if to consider –– before accepting his overeagerness (but not giving in, of course. Not England.) Grinning against her, he pulls her onto his lap, letting her lean above him, cup his face in her hands, press down from her vantage point. It’s a position America himself prefers (and they were cut from the same branch, were they not?), but this evening, now, he reclines into the back of the sofa, letting England curve over him.
Well, all right. He’s not entirely innocent in his decision, and England is well aware, pulling back from a kiss and fixing America with an all-too-well-knowing gaze. It’s mixed parts fondness and exasperation. America abandons the skirt zipper he was fiddling with to shamelessly cup her breasts again, thumbs scooped into the tea cup handles.
“You have the look of a fat child who’s eaten far too much chocolate,” Enlgland announces, rocking her hips against America’s hardening cock in punctuation. She intends some rise out of him, looking far too much like a cat with cream still on her tongue.
“As long as it’s your chocolate, right?” he says, pulling England up a little so he can slide skirt and panties off. To his luck, she wasn’t wearing her garters today (although another day...maybe, maybe). “You are always telling me that yours has the real sugar, sugar.” He obnoxiously winks at her, flashing her his trademark Hollywood smile as she shimmies out of her skirt.
England rewards him with a dead stare, but the twitch of her lips inwards betray her. America lifts up his eyebrows and laughs as she instead forcibly curls her mouth into a scowl, relieving him of his own clothes in the meantime. “If only you would be so sickeningly sweet to me when you didn’t want something,” England complains.
America says nothing out loud to that, instead brazenly running his hands top down until they slide in between England’s thighs. England sighs, America’s fingers trailing across her folds, thumb occasionally brushing her clit. Her hands tighten painfully on his shoulders as America teases her slit and teases moans out of her.
But America isn’t all too patient of a man, especially not with a nearly naked England on top of him. He pushes one finger in, then another, lazily pumping them in and out of her. His other hand holds her up, stopping England from breaking his wrist as she desperately grinds down onto his fingers inside of her. If there is anyone who outstrips him in patience, it’s England.  Hair loosely strewn across her shoulders, her eyes struggling to remain open, it takes considerable self control not to impale her on his cock right away.
In the end, it’s the fucking T-cups that do it, porcelain cupping porcelain breasts that shudder along with its owner. America can’t help his own haggard breaths that escape him as he removes his fingers, bringing them to his lips to obscenely clean them off. He matches England’s gaze and hears her choked sob, her own fingers searching for his cock. “Hold on now, he murmurs.
He strokes himself to full hardness instantly enough, and England leans back with his direction.  They breathe out in tandem as America sinks his cock into her.
England, shifts, accommodating his cock at a better angle as she braces her legs on either side of him. The couch she was on wasn’t small, per se (and America knows there is a joke about American sizes waiting, somewhere here), but the position is cramped. England leans back to try and support herself on the armrests, but they are too far apart to provide any sort of grip. “Typical American couches,” England predictably grumbles.
America laughs into her ear. “Relax,” he says cheekily, knowing it will get a rise out of England. He stops her snappy comeback, easily lifting her clean off him to flip her around and press her back against her chest.
Keeping one of her legs lifted up, he fumbles beneath her to find his cock. She slaps his hand off and he hides a grin in her hair, letting go and lifting her up her other leg to bare her to the living room. She grasps his cock at the base and slides her hand slowly up, before pressing his cock back into her.
Concurrent sighs escape them once more. England, ever impatient, begins insistently trying to move, succeeding only in grinding herself down on America’s cock instead. She throws him a cross look.
“Stop teasing me,” she demands. The overall commanding effect is diminished as America looks down and sees how well she takes his cock, how perfectly spread she is around him, and the tea-cups pressing her breasts together for him.
Instead, he says, “whatever my lady wants,” in a horribly posh accent. He doesn’t wait for her response, instead starting to fuck her in ernest. He holds her legs apart as he bounces her on his cock, bucking his hips upwards to match his movements.
England closes her eyes and rests her head back, letting soft moans escape her. America can’t decide where to keep his eyes––on her face as she tries to smother any pleasure, his cock as it slides easily in and out of her sex, or her breasts as they bounce up and down as he rocks her.
The tea cups are also wobbling with the movement, which would be hilarious if it weren’t so fucking hot. America wishes he had a mirror across him in his living room to watch, to see England fucked so well. He’ll settle for his vantage point, where he can look down and see her held apart by him as he thrusts into her.
“Open your eyes,” he tells her.
She does so instinctively. “What now,” she grouses, even as high-pitched moans escape her. America doesn’t answer, only pointedly looking down at the tea cups.
England follows his gaze. “Oh my fucking god,” she mutters. “This was, ah, your plan all along, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe,” America admits. His head is beginning to feel dizzy, the rush of pleasure getting to him. He picks up the pace, slamming her up and back down on him.
The tea cups begin to clink as he moves faster.
America can’t stop the snort of laughter that escapes him. He buries his head in her shoulder, kissing her neck as he futilely tries to stifle his laughs. “I hate you,” England tries to say, but her words draw out in a moan as America changes his angle and hits her right there.
“Aw, babe, you don’t mean that,” says America.
“Shut up and fuck me,” England responds. One hand reaches up to grip painfully in his hair, as the other comes down to rub at her clit. America lets out an appreciative groan.
“Fuck, England,” he grits out. “I’m-I’m gonna-”
“Come,” she demands, and he does, continuing to thrust through his orgasm. England tightens painfully around him, and he chokes out as a gasp, before the air is filled with sounds of her suppressed moans as she comes as well.
They lay there for a few moments, catching their breath. England opens her eyes and looks up lazily at America. They hold each other’s gaze for a microsecond before breaking into peals of laughter.
“You––you fucking bastard,” England makes out in between gasps for air. “I can’t believe you’ve done this. I can’t believe I did this!” She reaches down to pull America’s softening cock out of her, and then turns around to cuddle up against him (or fall asleep, as she is want to do). The cup handles push into his chest, abruptly aborting her movement. America looks down at the scene wide-eyed, before falling back into howls of laughter once more.
“I’m getting off,” England mock threatens, face completely reddened from laughing. America sucks in much needed air and pulls her close, ignoring the pinch of the tea cups into him. “I love you,” he says, mouth pressing into the curve of her shoulder as he shakes in mirth again. England runs her own fingers through his hair, holding him close.
omake:
“I didn’t go to war over just tea, by the way. It was a complex matter.”
America’s arms tighten around her, cocooning her closer to him. “Less talk, more sleep,” he grumbles.
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iamthegaysmurf · 5 years ago
Note
“Don’t focus on them, baby, just look at me, I’m right here.”
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More of the Soft™ Prompts!
Once again, these two fit together really well, so I ended up combining them.  I hope that’s alright.  ((Also, once again, this turned out longer than it should have.  Surprise, surprise.))
———-
Set a couple of days after the events of 3x07, but before diving into 3x08.
———-
“This was a terrible idea.”
Waverly watches Nicole from bed as she fumbles with the buttons of her Class A uniform.
“I never should have agreed to this,” Nicole mumbles, beginning to pace.  
The floorboards creak under her feet, adding to the tension in the room.  Waverly eventually crawls to the edge of the bed, reaching out to stop Nicole during one of her passes.  
“Baby…” Waverly says, her voice low, heavy with a hint of something else.  Nicole starts to relax at Waverly’s touch on her arm, but then her eyes go wide.
“Nope.”  She stiffens under Waverly’s fingertips.  “No.  Nuh uh,” she protests, backing away.  “That’s how I got into this situation in the first place.”  She shakes her head and gestures wildly.  “Because of that…”  Waverly leaves the bed, stalking closer with a smirk on her face.  “That…”
Nicole’s hands go limp at her sides as her train of thought derails completely out the window, unable to even finish her sentence when Waverly reaches up and grabs her by the tie, tugging her closer, careful not to dislodge the clip-on from its place at Nicole’s throat.  She only stops when Nicole’s face is less than an inch away from her own.
“Yeah,” Nicole whispers, her breath ghosting across Waverly’s lips.  “That.”
She tips her head forward slightly, intent on closing the distance, but Waverly just giggles and pushes her away playfully.  Nicole grunts in surprise, and then immediately settles into a dramatic pout.
“You’re gonna be great, Nicole,” Waverly says, straightening Nicole’s collar and tie before smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of her shirt.  “I don’t understand what you’re so worried about.”
“Giving a speech in front of hundreds of people?” Nicole squeaks.  “What’s not to worry about?”
Waverly’s expression softens, and she takes Nicole’s face in her hands.  Nicole holds her breath, trying to calm her racing heart.  She’s supposed to be the strong and steady one, but this…  This is an entirely different ballgame.
“Hey,” Waverly says softly, stroking Nicole’s cheeks.  “Nedley loves you.  This town loves you.  Everybody loves you.  I mean it,” she murmurs, pulling Nicole forward into a quick, chaste kiss.  “You’re gonna be great.”
Nicole searches Waverly’s eyes, wanting desperately to believe her, but the panic has already taken hold too deeply.  She feels it creeping up her spine and twisting through her chest and making it hard to breathe.
“Waverly, I can’t do this,” Nicole gasps out, on the verge of hyperventilating.  “We have to cancel.  I can’t–  I can’t–”
I can’t breathe.
“Nicole, look at me.”  Waverly’s hold on Nicole’s head tightens, physically turning it until they’re face to face again.  “Look at me.  I’m here, baby.”  Nicole’s panicked eyes finally settle on Waverly’s, and she nods her head slowly.  “Breathe, Nicole.  I’ve got you.  Just take a breath.”
Nicole still feels the panic pounding in the back of her throat, but Waverly is like an anchor, grounding her, keeping her tethered to this moment.  She hates feeling like this.  Needing someone else to be strong for her.  It makes her feel so… vulnerable.  But she looks into Waverly’s eyes and sees nothing but love looking back at her – even if she can’t say it yet – and it’s somehow settling.  
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes and leans forward until her forehead rests against Waverly’s, and as she feels her heartrate start to slow, she reminds herself that this is her safe place.
Waverly lets her hands slide around from Nicole’s cheeks until they’re draped over her shoulders, pulling her gently down until Waverly can reach well enough to kiss her.  It’s soft and slow, but it lingers until Nicole’s hands – until now, hanging uselessly at her sides – wrap around Waverly’s waist as she melts into Waverly’s embrace.
“Welcome back,” Waverly breathes against her lips, pressing another soft kiss to Nicole’s flushed cheek before nuzzling her face into Nicole’s neck and holding her close.  Nicole makes no attempt to move, her hands still cradling Waverly snugly against her body.  
They stay like that for several minutes, lost in each other’s warmth as they listen to one another breathe in the quiet of the room.  Nicole silently wonders for the millionth time what she possibly could have done to deserve this.
“Now,” Waverly says, breaking the moment when she finally pulls away.  “You want to tell me what that was all about?” she asks as she takes Nicole by the hand and tugs her over toward the bed.
Nicole sits on the bed stiffly, wiping her sweaty palms against the rough polyester of her Class A uniform pants before her hands begin to fidget with the end of her tie.
“Public speaking,” she croaks out, her voice cracking in the process.  She clears her throat roughly a few times, looking anywhere but at Waverly in the process.  “I just can’t do it.  Please don’t make me go…” she pleads, finally turning back toward Waverly.
“I would never make you do anything, Nicole,” Waverly says, grabbing one of Nicole’s shaking hands and pulling it into her lap.  “But…”  She can’t hide the confusion on her face.  It would be adorable if Nicole wasn’t such a goddamn mess right now.  “I don’t understand, baby.  You’re so good at talking to people.”
“That’s different.”  Nicole waves her other hand around.  “When I’m on the job.  It’s different.”
“How?” Waverly asks, and Nicole can tell she’s genuinely curious, not just being contrary.  “You’re so calm when you’re talking to people on a call.  Interviewing a witness or taking a statement.  Calming someone down after an accident.  I’ve seen the way you are with them,” Waverly encourages, her eyes shining brightly and her voice tinged with awe.  
Nicole’s face begins to burn and she turns away, embarrassed by the unadulterated praise.
“You deal with people when most of them are having the worst day of their lives, but you are the one they want to see when that happens.”  Waverly reaches out and takes Nicole’s other hand, waiting until Nicole turns back toward her.  “There’s a reason Nedley wants you to be the next Sheriff now that he’s retiring, Nicole.  The entire town is behind you.”
“Not the entire town,” Nicole grumbles.  “Not Bunny Loblaw.  And she rules over the City Council with an iron fistula,” she adds.
“Ol’ Honey Bunny can suck it,” Waverly seethes, and Nicole’s eyes go wide.  Waverly has always been fiery with her opinions, but it still catches Nicole off guard sometimes when she’s so visceral about it.  “Besides,” Waverly continues, ignoring Nicole’s raised eyebrow, “that’s why we’re doing this whole ‘Town Hall’ thing tonight.”
“Waverly…” Nicole whines, but Waverly doesn’t let her pull away.
“You’ve had good luck on the campaign trail so far,” Waverly says.  Nicole opens her mouth, but Waverly pushes on before she can protest again.  “We even won over the Fire Department, and that’s something Nedley still hasn’t been able to do, even after thirty years.”
“I still don’t know what I’m going to do with a dozen ‘hunky fireman’ calendars…”  Nicole snorts and rolls her eyes.
“I’m sure Wynonna can find a good use for them,” Waverly giggles.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!”  Nicole shudders, squeezing her eyes closed and shaking her head dramatically.  “Why did you have to put that image in my head?  Ugh.”  She pulls a face, scrunching up her nose and sticking out her tongue like there’s a bad taste in her mouth.
Waverly just continues to giggle.
“Speaking of Wynonna…”  Nicole hesitates, sighing.  “I overheard her threatening Bunny after that whole disaster the other day.  She seems to think I’ll have her support now no matter what.”  She peeks up at Waverly again.  “Maybe that means we don’t even have to go through with this whole thing tonight?” she asks hopefully.
“Nicole Haught,” Waverly admonishes, giving Nicole the disappointed teacher look she’s scarily good at.  Nicole shrinks away immediately, scrunching up her shoulders sheepishly.  “You and I both know that if you don’t earn the Council’s support fair and square and win the election on your own merit, you’ll never be able to live with yourself.”
“I know,” Nicole admits, hanging her head.  “She just hates me so much,” she mumbles.
“Well, the feeling’s mutual,” Waverly grumbles, and Nicole can’t help but grin at the fierceness radiating off of her girlfriend.  “But this Town Hall tonight is going to change that.  You’re gonna prove to her and the Council that you’re the only one for the job, and that they have no choice but to back you with their full support.”
“Do I have to?” Nicole whines again.
“Yep!” Waverly answers cheerily, hopping up from the bed.  Before she pulls Nicole up next to her by the hands, she leans down and whispers against the shell of Nicole’s ear, “But I promise the rewards will be worth it.”
With that, she twirls on her heel and flits out the door, leaving Nicole standing alone in the middle of their bedroom, tugging at her collar that suddenly feels three sizes too tight.
“Come on, Sheriff Haught!” she hears Waverly calling from downstairs.  “We’re gonna be late!”
Nicole forces herself to put one foot in front of the other until she’s reached the door, pausing briefly in front of the mirror to straighten her tie and smooth her hands over the front of her shirt one last time.
How does she always manage to do this to me? Nicole wonders, shaking her head at herself in the mirror before finally pulling the bedroom door closed behind her and joining Waverly at the bottom of the stairs.
 //
“You’re pacing again, Haught.”
Wynonna sits with her feet propped up on a nearby table, a fresh coffee in her hand.  Nicole had insisted that there was no booze allowed through the door tonight, confiscating Wynonna’s bottle of Varmint Whiskey before coming in through the back entrance, but she’s pretty sure there’s not just coffee in that cup if the self-satisfied smirk on Wynonna’s face is any indication.
“What…  Did you take a hit of smack before we got here tonight?”
Nicole ignores her, unable to focus on anything but the blood pounding in her ears.  The Community Center is packed full, standing room only, and Nicole feels like she’s drowning in the cacophony of voices echoing off the walls in the main auditorium.
She ceases her pacing long enough to peek through the curtain that separates the preparation room from the stage, already lit up with a podium in the middle, a microphone perched proudly atop it like some kind of satirical bird of prey waiting to feed on her dying body.
Oh, god.  Oh, god.  Oh, god.
“Looks like you drew a full house tonight, Haughtshot,” Wynonna cackles.
Oh, god.  Oh, god.  Oh, god.
“Knock it off, Wynonna,” Waverly scolds as she hurries into the room, coming from the main entrance.  She wraps her fingers around Nicole’s arm, pulling her away from the curtain.  “Chrissy and I already went through all of your ‘Vote for Haught’ buttons when we were handing them out at the door!”
Oh, god.  Oh, god.  Oh, god.
“Soooooo many people…”
“Wynonna! I think it’s time for you to go and find your seat,” Waverly says sternly, pointing at the door.
“But–”
“Now.”
“Fine.  God.  It’s bad enough having the Five-O as my bestie, but now my sister is the Fun Police, too,” she grumbles as she shuffles out of the room.
“Okay, baby.  Are you ready?” Waverly asks, placing her hands on Nicole’s shoulders and looking up into her eyes.
“No,” Nicole chokes.  “Oh, god.  Oh, god.  Oh, god.”
“You’ve got this, Nic,” Waverly says, squeezing her shoulders.  “You’ve practiced your speech a hundred times.  It’s time to show them what kind of Sheriff you’re gonna be.”
“What if I forget the words?” Nicole gasps, her eyes going wide, like she hadn’t considered that possibility before.
“You won’t.  You know it by heart.”
“But what if I do?”
“You won’t.  That’s why I made you these color-coded notecards, just in case,” Waverly reassures her, tapping the cards sticking out of Nicole’s breast pocket.
“But what if–”
“Nicole.  Stop.  Look at me.”
Nicole’s mouth snaps shut, and she stares dumbly at Waverly, her hands flexing at her sides.
“I’ll be in the front row.  I saved my seat as soon as we got here.”  She waves a hand toward the auditorium.  “Don’t focus on them, baby.  Just look at me.  I’m right here.”
Nicole nods and swallows hard.
“It’s just you and me in there, okay?  Just like when you were practicing your speech for me at your house.”
“Waverly,” Nicole whispers harshly, her eyes darting around the empty room.  “We were naked when I was practicing the speech for you.”
“Exactly,” Waverly grins wickedly, reaching up to pat Nicole playfully on the cheek.  “Isn’t that so much better than just imagining the audience in their underwear?”
“Waverly,” Nicole hisses again.
“Nicole Haught,” Waverly says, turning serious once more.  “I believe in you.  I’ve always believed in you.  You’re good at your job – maybe the best cop this town has ever seen.  You deserve to be Sheriff.  Now go out there and get it!”
She pushes up on her tiptoes and gives Nicole an enthusiastic kiss, and then she’s gone, the curtain swishing behind her as she disappears onto the stage.
Nicole hears Waverly speaking into the microphone, but she doesn’t register any of the words.  Not until the auditorium erupts in a round of applause.
That must be her cue.  No more putting this off.  It’s time.  She takes another deep breath, adjusting her uniform and tie one last time before stepping out on the stage.
She’s got this, she thinks as her fingers wrap around the edges of the podium.  
Waverly believes in her.
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smuggsy · 5 years ago
Note
“You’re overdue on this book and I want it so I’m tracking u the fuck down” sounds funky as a modern au prompt, especially if it was a younger sibling of one of them or a real obscure/hyperfixation of the reader(s). If you don’t want to write it, don’t worry! Hope you’re doing well
COLLINS / FARRIER AU. Okay, so here it is, poster-thingy included (couldn’t help myself).
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The kind girl on the counter makes a face at seeing him approach, Collins can only guess what a pitiful sight he is: bags under his eyes, uniform in disarray, hair unwashed and an empty coffee cup on his hand. If he'd crossed paths with any of the prefects roaming around he would've definitely got an earful for it -- that's no way to present yourself as a student! Fix that bloody tie!
 Ah, that would've really been the icing of the cake. A real shitty way to end his day indeed.
 "I thought maybe you'd forgotten to notify me" Collins smiles, aiming at friendly conversation but coming out rather miserable, "perhaps you'd lost my ID number?"
 "No, I'm sorry" is all she says, genuinely sounding like she means it, and Collins knows she means it, so maybe he'd get lucky today.
 "Are you sure it's not returned?" he insists, and having a look around to ensure nobody's within earshot he leans in closer, "I can go get it for you, kill two birds with one stone, aye?"
 Collins looks at her name tag and puts on his most miserable wet-puppy face. It's no use trying to flirt at this point, it's the fifth time he turns up this week looking like a zombie from The Walking Dead and she's been over the counter every single time. The fact that he doesn't remember what she's called is clear evidence of his exhaustion.
 "Sally..." he looks up and puts both his hands together in sign of prayer, maybe even pouts a little, because who cares about decency at this point? "Pleeease?"
 She shakes her head at the screen with a frown.
 "I'm really sorry, I'm not allowed to give out students' personal details. I'll give him another call later, how about that?" She offers, and Collins lets out a sigh and nods pathetically, thinking it's a he, what a fucking twat.
 He's ready to turn on his tail and leave without the only copy of Crónicas de la Guerra Civil Española in the whole campus yet once again. Except Sally then shouts a warning, pointing over his shoulder to one of the tables behind, "I said no drinking -- for heaven's sake" she storms out of her seat to the two young girls.
 Collins doesn't waste any time, he stretches his hand over and turns the computer's screen towards him, sloppily fishes his phone out of his pocket and snaps a quick photo of it and puts it back in place before the librarian has even turned around. When Sally comes back making an exasperated face, Collins tries to walk away in the same tired pace he walked in and not give himself away.
 Outside, out of her field of vision, he checks the photo. Some idiot named Farrier, block D, apartment 201. A law student.
 Fucking superb. Bunch of self-centered pricks.
 He storms out towards the east side of the campus, praying to all the powers that be for a quick exchange of words and a successful retrieval. He only even needs to read four chapters, but he's got only two days to do so, digest the information and have a decent sleep to sit a decent test.
 Collins gets quite a few odd looks as he strolls into the hall and turns directly to the stairs. His sweater gives him away as a Humanities student but he's sure that's not what's getting him stared at. If he bumps into any seniors here, he's bloody done. They'll revoke his pass on account of his appearance. They're known to be a bit of a pain in the ass, the prefects from this block... Then again, it's not like he goes out at all. Wouldn't be much of a loss, really.
He can't hold back his rotten mood as he knocks on the blue door exasperatedly, eager to get this whole business over with so he can return to his dormitory, have a proper shower and put something in his stomach that isn't an energetic beverage.
 Ten seconds pass by and there is no sound coming from inside the room. He tries again, letting out a whine.
 Nothing.
 He's pushing his luck, but he tries on the doorknob anyway.
 Locked.
 He bumps his fist on the door a couple more times and he's short of losing it right there and then -- all the stress from midterms weeks about to come flooding out.
 "Fuck’s sake, I ain’t your bloody landlord Peter!" the door finally swings open, "I told you to get a dupli-- oh", and behind it is one of its room's inhabitants, wearing nothing but a towel over his hips and dripping water over the wooden floor.
 On any other day, Collins would've taken a moment to appreciate the sight before him, but today isn't 'any other day' so he goes straight to the point and pays that six-pack little to no mind.
 "Are you Farrier?" he barks. The stranger blinks, mouths something but makes no sound, taken off guard by his hostility, no doubt. "Are you?" Collins pushes.
 Now this manages to put a scowl on the guy's face, and he crosses two tattooed arms over his chest. He's built like a brick wall and it only manages to set Collins' teeth on edge even more.
 "Yeah, who's asking?"
 Collins hears himself let out a sigh.
 "Look, I need a book you have. Spanish Civil War, just give it to me, I have a test." He adds, feeling like his soul is leaving him and taking his eloquence along with it. His eloquence and his ability to make himself sound less Scottish for other people's sake.
 Collins finds he doesn't give a shit about other people's sake today. It's their problem if they don't understand his accent, so they should sort it the fuck out.
 Farrier smiles at him, at his extended expectant hand.
 Collins feels like a ticking time-bomb about to go off.
 "Have you got the book?" He asks another time.
 "What are you, the library police?" Farrier scoffs.
 "Gimme the fuckin' book, alright? You're way overdue" he snaps, his brain catching up with his mouth too late.
 (Although even later he finds he doesn't care).
 "Jesus mate, it's only a book" he turns around and disappears for a couple of seconds, when he returns he's no longer sporting that amusing smile and he looks Collins up and down in anger before putting the heavy paperback copy on his free hand. "Take a fucking break."
 Collins stumbles back as the door is slammed on his face.
 The sound brings him out of his reverie, and he blinks at the book on his hand, considering an apology for the briefest of moments before turning around and walking towards the stairs. By the time he's outside the rush of adrenaline is gone and there's a slight pain on his chest. Still, he pushes on until he's back at his own block.
 Should probably cut down on the caffeine...
                                                             *  *  *
 They meet again one week later.
 "Hey"
 When Collins has fallen asleep on his usual spot, a hidden table in a secluded corner of the History section of the library. The usual drill.
 "Hey, Spanish Civil War…"
 He jerks awake, somebody’s insistent hand on his shoulder.
 When he looks up Farrier’s staring him down, but Collins only realizes it’s him after he’s put his glasses back on and ran a hand over his drooling mouth.
 He checks the time on his phone, disoriented.
 “Yeah, they’re closing up”
 “Ugh”
 Just then, the lights over them go off, and Collins stumbles to his feet, knocking his book over to the floor and almost slipping on a pencil trying to get it back. Farrier strolls over the corner of the towering shelf of books and shouts: “Hang on!”, then he returns and gets Collins’ laptop under his arm and the backpack hanging from the chair as well, like he’s picking up his child from school.
 Farrier takes a step away but stops when Collins quickly starts running his hands over the table to clear the remaining balls of paper. Then he makes sure the chair is quickly tucked in place and bends over to check there’s nothing being left under the table.
 Farrier clears his throat.
 “Take your time” he says sarcastically.
 The remaining set of lights go off.
 “Shit” Collins mouths, running along now, “don’t think they heard ye”
 “You don’t say -- wait!”
 They catch Arthur at the door.
 “Blimey, boys. Almost left you!”
 “Sorry Mr. Cornwell” Collins grins, sheepishly.
 “Ah, Collins!” the old-man adjusts his glasses and leans over to him. “You again.”
 It sounds incriminating, and Farrier lets out a small laugh next to him.
 “Should get you a key, I should…” he mumbles as they pass him to get outside. Collins shudders and makes a sudden stop, causing Farrier to bump right into him.
 “Shite, forgot me ja--”
 “Well then, night to you gentlemen” but Arthur is already biding them farewell and very bent on returning to his own cozy and warm room. Collins doesn’t have the heart to stop him.
 He’ll make a run for it.
 He tugs at his bag, hanging from Farrier’s broad shoulder.
 “Thanks” he mutters under his breath, and Farrier hands him the laptop as well.
 “So, how was your test?”
 Collins ignores the question for a brief moment, as he puts the laptop inside the backpack and then puts the backpack on.
 There’s no reason to be a dick, he thinks. Except he kind of wants to be a dick to this guy.
 “Dunno” he retorts. He rubs his hands over his arms, only a thin shirt on, and nods in Farrier’s direction without actually looking at him. “See ya” he takes a step forward only to be stopped by that arm again.
 Sighing, he turns to look at him now, and Farrier’s undoing his thick woolen scarf, much to Collins’ dismay.
 “Your dorm’s further” he says, aiming to put it around his neck as well. That’s when Collins reacts, pushing his hands away along with the scarf.
 “What’s your deal?” he asks, nodding again in Farrier’s direction and feeling his nose starting to drip already. Couldn’t have been a coincidence, this guy turning round a corner and finding him passed out exactly a minute before the lock-down. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Collins knows, on the contrary: the library sofas aren’t comfortable at all, and the air conditioning is turned off at night.
 He’d have woken up with a cold and a stiff neck.
 “What’s my deal? What’s your deal, mate? You always this snappy?”
 “Fuck off, I’m not snappy” Collins says, and closes his eyes in defeat just a second after. “Maybe I’m snappy. I’m having a shitty semester, why are ye following me around?”
 As Collins puts his hands on his trousers’ pockets to warm them up Farriers quickly takes advantage and rolls the scarf around his exposed neck before he can stop him.
 “Well, you’re the prettiest guy I’ve seen in a while and I think you need someone to keep you in check ‘cos you clearly overwork yourself” Farrier quickly explains, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
 Collins blinks, taken off guard, and he steps back.
 “What…?”
 “Yeah.” he shrugs again, nonchalant.
 Collins has a look around but sees no-one except for a couple of pigeons and a curly-haired blonde running back to the cafeteria. Is there a camera hidden somewhere near? Is someone hiding inside that trash-can with a cellphone?
 “I like a guy in glasses, sue me.”
 Collins lets out a disbelieving laugh.
 “Okay, bye” he’s resolute to leave now, and Farrier doesn’t try to stop him this time. He catches up with him, though, openly grinning.
 “I’ll walk you”
 “Alright” Collins stops on his tracks and faces him. “You want an apology for last week, I’m sorry I was a dick, as I said: I’m having a shitty semester,” he takes the scarf off and feels the cold embracing him fully back again, and his nose is impregnated with that fucking cocoa axe deodorant. “Please kindly fuck off.”
 “So that’s a no to the date?!” Farrier shouts as Collins hurries away.
 By the time he’s back at the dorm he’s openly shivering, Farrier’s perfume is stuck in his shirt and he quickly takes it off and locks himself in the bathroom to have a hot shower and pretend what just happened most definitely was a figment of his imagination.
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