#we'll get to the other sides eventually I swear

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Order Up, Chaos Served

A Levi x reader fanfic (for LeviWeek 2024)

Crossposted from AO3

You get to go on a blind date with none other than Levi Ackerman. There's just one catch: you have to make it an epic disaster.

tags: modern AU, romcom vibes but make it thirsty, fluff and humor cw: contains some swearing | word count: 3.5k

A/n: for day 6 of LeviWeek, I used the prompts "blind date" and "role-play". You'll have to decide for yourself whether this qualifies for the "dystopia" prompt, lol. (It's a modern setting AU where Annie's dad is a rich CEO).

(Levi x reader Masterlist)

"So, what did you want to talk about?" You asked, fiddling with the teabag tag hanging from your cup.

"It's happening again," Annie said gravely. She was sitting opposite you, unsmiling.

"Damn. Another blind date?"

Annie nodded, her hands clenching into fists on the table. "Like, I know he doesn't approve of Armin. As if his daily offhanded comments about him being a wimp weren't enough. But now he's gone over to pretending that Armin doesn't even exist."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's like he's enlisted every eligible bachelor in this damn country to make my life a living hell. Says that I need a 'real man' by my side if I am to take over the company. I can't take it anymore."

You scoffed. "Like you aren't perfectly capable of leading the company by yourself. Why should your choice in a partner have anything to do with it?"

"Exactly. He's driving me insane. I swear, if I have to sit through even just one more blind date, I'm gonna explode. Don't know what I'll do to him then, but one thing's for sure, it won't be pretty. "

You gave her a sympathetic look.

Annie met your gaze with a sly smile. "That's where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're gonna go on that blind date for me."

"What?" You almost spit out your tea. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Multiple reasons. For one, you'd prevent and all-out war with my old man. You wouldn't want me to end up disowned, now would you?" She gave you an innocent look.

"Two. It's free food. I know you can't resist that."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that easily bought."

"We'll see about that." Annie waggled her brows. "It's at that exclusive sushi place even A-list celebrities can't get into without connections."

"Fuck it, I'm in."

Annie grinned. "I knew you'd come around eventually. But there's a small catch – you'll have to pretend to be me."

Oh no.

"And you'll have to make sure the date's a total disaster."

Oh no, no, no.

"So bad, in fact, that my reputation will be in ruins and no eligible bachelor will ever look my way again." She gave you an angelic smile.

"Think you could do that for me?"

– –

And that was the story of how you'd ended up here, in front of a high-end restaurant, wearing clothes that cost more than your car and all of your other possessions combined. You even wore a wig to look more like Annie. All in the name of friendship. (And free sushi.)

That sushi better be good.

You stepped inside, where an elegantly dressed hostess greeted you with a perfectly practiced smile and a courteous bow of her head.

"Welcome, do you have a reservation?"

Hell yeah. You put on a polite smile. "Yes. It should be in the name of 'Ackerman'?"

That was the name of your date for the evening, a certain Levi Ackerman, apparently a nouveau-riche-type of businessman who qualified as a real man in the eyes of Annie's father. He was supposedly a few years older than you. Not that it really mattered with the plans that you had in store for him.

The hostess nodded pleasantly and motioned towards the dining area. "If you would follow me, please."

You stalked after her in your high heels, feeling a little out of your depth.

"Eyes on the prize," you muttered under your breath. If nothing else, you would stuff your face tonight.

But as you passed the tables, eyeing the exquisitely arranged dishes, your dreams of a feast were crushed instantly – the portions were tiny.

"Here it is," the hostess said, leading you past a delicate, ornamental paper divider to your table in the quietest corner of the restaurant. Mr. Ackerman was already there – not surprising, since you were almost half an hour late, the first part of your plan to leave the worst impression possible. His back was turned to you, so the only thing you could see was his dark undercut.

The hostess was the first to reach the table, pulling out your chair with a subtle, practiced gesture. "Yello!" You exclaimed loudly as you dropped into the seat, slouching with your elbows on the table. The man in front of you looked up with a frown. Your mouth fell open: The guy was hot. Somehow, Annie had failed to mention that not-so-little detail to you. You could already feel your cheeks start to burn, but you had to go through with the plan.

"Hi. I'm Annie Leonhart," you said in a fake, high-pitched voice, thrusting out your hand. "But my friends call me Leo – like the lion. RAWR!" You transformed your hand into a claw before he could take it, brandishing it under his nose.

Needless to say, he didn't look very impressed.

"I'm Levi," he said in an unflinching monotone. Damn, even his voice was hot.

You let out a shrill laugh. "How funny. I had a hamster with that name once."

Levi looked at you for moment, his expression flat. "Good to know. I hope your hamster had better manners than you do."

You nodded earnestly. "He was the most well-behaved hamster. Such a good boy."

Then you turned your gaze downward, squeezing your eyes shut to force out a few tears.

"Rest in peace, little one," you said, sniffling.

When you looked back up, his eyes were narrowed at you. You should probably tone it down a bit, or this date would be over before you even got to the entrées.

"Sorry, I get nervous at these things," you explained.

He gave you a curt nod.

Before you could say anything else, the waiter approached.

"Good evening. My name is Ryotaro, and I'll be taking care of you tonight."

He gave you a slight bow, before carefully setting down the menus in front of you.

"May I recommend our omakase for tonight? It is a selection of our chef's finest sushi, prepared with fresh, seasonal ingredients. Or, if you prefer, you may choose from our à la carte options."

"We'll do à la carte," you said immediately, not giving Levi any opportunity to get a word in.

"Certainly," Ryotaro said. "Please take your time. I'll return in a few moments to take your order."

Levi leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. You could feel his eyes on you, scrutinizing you, like they were probing your innermost thoughts. You swallowed and looked away from his face, trying to avoid his gaze. His sleeves were riding up a bit, revealing the veins protruding from his well-toned forearms. It wasn't fair. How was everything about this man so goddamn hot? Get a grip, you told yourself. You cracked your knuckles and reached for the menu. This was what you were here for. The food. Not the man. Even if he was delicious. Probably.

You tried not to gasp at the prices as you scanned the menu. It wasn't like you had to pay for any of this. In fact, this was your pay.

You glanced at Levi over the edge of your menu. He, too, was quietly reading what the restaurant had to offer.

You cleared your throat. "A lot of seafood, isn't it?"

"It's a sushi restaurant." He didn't look up from his menu.

"Tough crowd," you said. The room fell silent again.

You took a gulp of the water provided on the table, but your mouth was still dry like a desert. This was even harder than you had anticipated. The man didn't give you anything to work with.

When Ryotaro came back to the table, you breathed a sigh of relief.

Levi ordered first. "I'll start with the Shishito Peppers with Miso Glaze. For the main dish, I'll have the sushi and sashimi platter, chef's selection. As for drinks, I will get a green tea."

"Certainly, sir." Ryotaro turned to you. "And what may it be for the lady?"

"I'll get the Daiginjo sake. A whole bottle, please." There was no way you'd get through this evening sober.

"As you wish. I can bring you a tokkuri, a carafe."

"That will do nicely," you said sweetly. "As for the food… I'll have everything."

Ryotaro blinked at you. "E-Everything?"

"Yes, everything." You looked at him with a dead serious expression. "For the entrées, I'll have the Tuna Tartare with Yuzu and Avocado, the Shishito Peppers with Miso Glaze, the Chawanmushi, the Seared Toro Carpaccio, and the Agedashi Tofu, please. I hope you won't make me recount the main dishes, too."

"Certainly not," Ryotaro said politely, having caught himself again. "Will it be the full portions, or may it be a bit of everything?"

"Full portions," you said, not missing a beat.

"Absolutely. Would you like to order all of our side dishes, as well?"

"Yes, that would be most darling."

"Certainly," Ryotaro said in a measured tone, betraying nothing. What an absolute professional.

He bowed slightly, then quietly stepped back, leaving the table.

Levi took a sip of his water, seemingly unbothered by your excessive ordering. You gave him an incredulous look. He put down the water, placing it on the table with a soft thud.

"You're really going all out, aren't you?" he said dryly.

"Of course. I'm here for the food."

He raised an eyebrow at you. It was a good look on him. (Everything was a good look on him.)

"Just for the food," you reiterated. It physically hurt you to say it.

"Is that so," he said, impassive.

"Yes. Daddy wants me to go on dates to find a real man. But I'm not into real men." You made a dramatic pause. "I prefer them two-dimensional, you know? Like from an anime. They're just so much cooler." You held your breath as you waited for Levi's reaction.

He didn't even flinch. "Of course they are cooler. They're not real."

"They are real for me!" You protested, adding a bit of a whiny undertone.

That earned you an eye roll.Yes! You were getting there.

"I'm sure they are very real... in your head. Good luck finding a two-dimensional guy that you can get dinner with, let alone hold a conversation."

You scoffed. "It's not like you are that great at holding a conversation. You're not the most talkative guy."

He gave you a deadpan look. "Good. I should be your type then."

Damn, that was smooth. You could feel your face heating up at his words.

"I'll have you know that the anime guys in my head are great conversationalists. I have a very vivid imagination, you know?"

"You'd need it, since you'd essentially be both sides of the relationship. Rather one-dimensional, actually."

He had a point. But of course, you couldn't let him know that. You let out a dramatic sigh. "Still more exciting than any real men I've encountered so far."

"Maybe you met the wrong ones."

"All of them corporate lackeys, like you. I'm sure you don't really want to be here, either. You're just trying to further your agenda, get a foot in the door of daddy's company. At least I'm being honest about what I want." You flipped your hair back for additional theatrics.

Levi tilted his head, his cool eyes fixed on you with newly-found interest.

"So that's what you think this is. Explains a lot."

You met his gaze, challenging him. "Am I wrong?"

"About me playing some corporate game? Yes. While it's true that I'm here because I owed Leonhart a favor, I'm not trying to get anything out of this. Nor am I planning on doing any further business with him, for that matter. This is separate."

"Right," you said with thinly-veiled sarcasm.

Before he could get a chance to respond, Ryotaro was back at your table, having wheeled in your entrées and drinks on a serving cart. He transferred your drinks to the table, setting down a ceramic carafe for you. You watched him pour you a glass and immediately grabbed it when he was done, downing it in one swift motion. He refilled it without batting an eyelid.

"The Shishito Peppers for you, sir," he said, placing the dish in front of Levi.

"And which one may you prefer to eat first?" He asked, turning to you.

"Whatever you recommend. I'm going to eat them all anyway. Just put as many as will fit on the table," you replied with a smile. The food was beautifully arranged, each dish looking like dainty little artworks with their delicate garnishing and vibrant colors. It made your mouth water in anticipation.

"Certainly," Ryotaro said, moving some of the dishes to your table. "I'd recommend the Tuna Tartare for a light and refreshing start. You could proceed with the Shishito Peppers for some mild heat, then move on to the heartier dishes. Would this be to your liking?"

"You bet," you said enthusiastically. This elicited a faint smile from Ryotaro, a nice change from his usual stiff demeanor. He didn't know it yet, but he would get a huge tip tonight for putting up with your antics. Annie had given you her gold card, and you intended to make good use of it.

As soon as he had left your table, you took out your phone and snapped pictures of every single dish. Levi gave you a look.

"You planning to frame those?" He sounded slightly amused.

This wasn't a good direction. You needed to double down on the weirdness.

"Almost. These are for my diary," you said with a serious nod, like this was perfectly normal. "Right, of course I'll need a snapshot of you, too."

You pointed the camera at him and took a photo without asking for his permission, perfectly capturing his frown.

You put on a pout. "You didn't even smile. What will daddy think? He might think you're not having any fun."

"Oh, I'm having fun alright," Levi muttered under his breath.

You snickered. This was more like it. He seemed a bit resigned, already. You just had to work him a little bit more. After the entrées, of course.

As you took your first bite, your eyes lit up with pure and utter delight, the exquisitely tender tuna melting in your mouth, harmonizing perfectly with the acidity of the yuzu. You couldn't stop a huge grin from spreading over your face. This was definitely worth the cost, even if it meant making a complete fool of yourself.

Levi watched you, and for a second, a ghost of a smile passed over his lips.

"You really are just here for the food, aren't you," he noted wryly.

"You know it!" You exclaimed in between bites. You savored every last one of them, closing your eyes to bliss out without any distractions.

"Tch. You look like you're about to propose to the chef."

You opened your eyes to grin at him. "That's a fantastic idea! I totally should."

"A shame that he's three-dimensional, though," he quipped in that monotone of his, which shouldn't be allowed to sound this damn good, but it somehow did. You actually laughed out loud at this – your real laugh – but you didn't even notice.

You shrugged. "Everyone should be allowed one flaw."

He did the eyebrow-raise again. It made your heart beat faster. "Are you implying that I have more than one?"

"We already established this. You're not the best at carrying a conversation."

"I think I'm carrying this one just fine."

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day." You smirked.

"Tch. You're being quite a rude brat right now."

Your smirk grew wider. "Everyone should be allowed one flaw, remember?"

Levi snorted. There was a slight quirk to the corners of his mouth, a bit higher on one side, like his smile would be lopsided if only he'd allow it to fully form.

His eyes were locked with yours. Your heart was thumping in your chest.

Ryotaro's polite voice cut through the tension between you. "Is everything to your liking?"

You gave him a dazed look, like you'd just woken up from a dream.

"Yes," you said softly, almost inaudibly.

"It's good," Levi said, his face blank.

That made you snap out of it. "Good? Just good? It's phenomenal! Heavenly!" You gesticulated wildly with your hands to underline your words.

"I'm glad," Ryotaro said, sounding genuinely pleased. "May I take your empty dishes?"

"Sure."

You had finished most of the entrées already. The portions really were criminally tiny.

Ryotaro served you the remaining ones from the cart, then wheeled it away.

The silence that followed was charged, somehow. Different from before. You knew you should probably do something ridiculous, outrageous, something to tarnish the good name of the Leonharts, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Surprisingly, Levi was the one to break the silence.

"So you're an ill-mannered brat who prefers anime men over real ones. Any more flaws I should know about?"

"Of course not. I'm perfect," you said, doing the dramatic hair flip again.

There was a ripping sound, and suddenly your head felt much lighter. Something fell to the ground with a weak flop. You stared at it in horror. It was a mop of blonde hair – the wig had fallen right off.

Shit. "I-I can explain," you stammered. "I have severe dandruff, and I didn't want it to fall on my black dress. That's why I wanted to cover my hair, but it's rude to wear hats in restaurants, so I opted for a wig, and –"

"You can stop the charades. I know you're not Annie Leonhart," Levi cut you off. "I checked her photo beforehand, and you look nothing like her."

You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate. "Damn, it was the nose, wasn't it?"

"Yep."

"Fuck. So we've both been playing pretend this entire time? Why didn't you say anything sooner?" You searched his eyes for some sort of clue, but came up short.

"I wanted to find out what your intentions are. See how far you would take this."

"And what did your little investigation uncover?"

"That you're really into food. "

You flashed him a sheepish smile. "Dang, I guess I'm easier to read than I thought. That's all you gathered, Mr. Detective?"

"Well, you also have quite the comedic talent. You might want to consider a career in that field."

You chuckled softly. "Glad I could at least provide some entertainment for the evening."

Levi nodded. "I still have some questions though."

"I can imagine."

"I'd like to know the story behind all this. But I'd understand if you'd rather keep your privacy."

"It's fine," you said with a wave of your hand. "You deserve some answers. Actually, I'm Annie's best friend. She already has a boyfriend, but her father doesn't approve of him and wants to set her up with someone he prefers. You know, the classic story." You rolled your eyes. "Well, Annie was fed up with the constant blind dates and wanted to put an end to them once and for all. That's where I came in. She kinda roped me into this with the promise of free food…" You awkwardly ran a hand through your hair.

He huffed out a laugh. "You really did this only for the food? Should've asked for more."

"I know, right? But anyway, the idea was to ruin her reputation, make sure no eligible bachelor would be caught dead within a mile's radius from her... Guess that didn't go quite as planned."

Levi shook his head. "If you wanted someone to badmouth her, you picked the wrong person."

"So I gathered. You're not exactly the rumor spreading type. Not chatty enough."

"Right. Not as conversational as the cool anime dudes in your head," he deadpanned.

"Shut up." You grinned. "You know I only did this to fuck with you."

"Didn't work."

"Not even just a little bit?" You asked. "A teeny tiny little bit?"

He shook his head.

"Not even a micro bit? A nano bit?" You leaned in, giving him big doe eyes.

"Fine, I'll give you that. You got off to a strong start."

The smile on your lips grew even wider. "Yeah? You liked that? RAWR!" You gave him the lion claws again.

"Don't push it," he said, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.

"Admit it, you want to see more of it."

"No." He gave you a long look. "But I'd like to see more of the real you."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Did you just ask me on a second date? "

"I suppose I did. Figured it couldn't be any worse than this one."

"Joke's on you. We're not even at the main course. This date isn't over yet." And you had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot better.

A/n: I admit the anime guy thing might've been a bit meta xD Btw, reader absolutely brought containers in her purse to take the leftovers. Can't have the good food go to waste, lol.

It's out <3 @nironasaran

[missnxthingg]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood's newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.5K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - SMUT & swearing 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Four is our lucky number, so let's spice things up! As I wrote this, I could only think about the song Conflicted by Halestorm (pardon the hard rock). Hope you enjoy this one!

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𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 - 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃

Lando woke up a little lost the following morning. His cheek was pressed to the top of Y/N's head and his arms were loosely still around her waist. She was still deep into sleep when he opened his eyes. Too afraid to wake her up and having to face an awkward conversation, he stood very still, taking the first minutes of his day to look at her and think.

Whatever happened between them yesterday was weird, to say the least. People don't simply go from hating each other to being vulnerable and sharing a bed in a matter of hours. He didn't know what had got into them and it scared him how much he enjoyed the moments they shared the previous night. It scared him how good it felt to be vulnerable to her. And the feeling he got on his chest every time he looked at her was the most terrifying of them all.

Feeling a clench on his chest, Lando carefully slipped out of bed and changed into fresh clothes, did his entire morning routine and, in less than 15 minutes later, he was downstairs in the restaurant for some breakfast. Since it was so early, and everyone was still tired from the weekend, he managed to sit alone and think. The last thing he needed was company.

Eventually, the hotel started to get crowded, and a few fans were starting to recognize him among the people at the restaurant. Feeling cranky, he thought it was best for him to go back to his room and get ready for his flight later that day. Zak had already texted him, saying he hoped to have a meeting on the flight. So he needed to rest his mind.

Lando hadn't decided how to behave around Y/N yet. She was woken up by the time he arrived, but was having a shower while he was gone. He packed everything he needed while she kept the bathroom busy. She only came out ten minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes for the flight.

“Good morning”, she opened a small smile for Lando, who didn't retribute it. 

“Morning”, he mumbled, taking his needed things for a shower.

Y/N was surprised with his behaviour, but decided not to comment on it. Who the fuck goes from cuddling to no reaction in only a few hours? Only someone as complicated as Lando Norris. 

“At what time we'll be leaving?”, she ignored how he acted and decided to act just as cold.

“We have to be at the airport at one”, he said and Y/N only nodded to his response.

But she just couldn't help herself. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Fine”, he shrugged before locking himself in the bathroom.

The rest of the trip was exactly like that. Y/N only heard Lando's voice when necessary. He only shifted his mood during the meeting he had with Zak on the plane. Not very interested in talking about racing, she chose to put on her earpods and drift away into music.

They only met again a week later, when Y/N was invited to attend the Cannes Film Festival. To not make it seem like their relationship was one-sided, they took advantage that his off weekend was supposed to be during the event. Lando met her in France, where they had booked a suite with two rooms this time, so they would only have to meet in common areas such as the living and dining room. 

What surprised Y/N was that Lando was back to his asshole behaviour once again.

“You never, ever shut up, do you?”, he sighed, taking a spot on the living room's couch.

"I'm just saying that we're late for a brunch and you're fucking sitting down, Norris", she folded her arms and puffed her chest, making sure he knew how upset she was.

"I'm not required to be at this brunch. Just need to be with you at the red carpet", Lando put his feet up on the coffee table and turned the TV on, pretending not to care. Y/N promptly removed his feet from the table.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I literally always go out of my schedule, fly out away from home, just to be at your goddamn work events, and you can't do the same for me?”

"We're not a real couple, Y/N. I don't know if you realized that", Lando squinted his eyes as he spat out the words. Words to which were daggers right across her chest.

She didn't know why it pained her so much to hear those words; to see how aggressive he was behaving. That was not the same Lando that a week ago begged for her to comfort him and pulled her closer before falling asleep. He wasn't the bubbly and happy Lando Norris she saw on track.

Trying to fight back some tears, Y/N turned her back and retreated to her room. “You do you, Norris. I'm gonna finish getting ready because, contrary to you, I care about my career”.

She had to fight really hard to not call his PR team and call this whole thing off. Lando wasn't committing to his part of the agreement, so she didn't feel like it was fair. But she washed her face, took a deep breath and got ready for brunch. By the time she was out the room, Lando was waiting dressed in a linen button up and short's, perfect for a casual spring day.

Y/N didn't say anything and carried on her way out, him right behind her. When they got to the hotel lobby, they put on their little show, with his hand on the small of her back and opening doors for her. Later that day on the internet, people were melting with the pictures of them in line for brunch, with the sweet kisses being shared between them.

But the real commotion came on the next day, when they attended a Martin Scorsese film premiere, looking like the hottest couple in Cannes. Lando dressed up in a beautiful and classic black suit, while Y/N chose a draped baby pink dress that made her feel like a goddess. When she came out of her room after hours with stylists, makeup artists and hairdressers, Lando felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and he did his best at pretending not to care.

Their fans, on the other hand, cared too much. Their names climbed up to worldwide trending topics; their picture on the red was all over Instagram. People loved how amazing they looked together. Lando and VN really could be a breathtaking couple if they were actually together. It was the perfect combo: the rising star and the sunshine athletic boy.

“A match made in hell”, he whispered in her ear as all the cameras blinded them with the flashes.

"I fucking hate you", she whispered back, and Lando felt like those words were a stab right in his chest.

Of course he knew Y/N hated him. He himself has made sure those feelings were known. But this is the first time he's heard it since the night they shared in Miami. Why does he now care that she hates him?

The words flowed so easily out of her mouth. She was angry at him. Absolutely livid by his behaviour on the previous day, or the fact that he simply pretended the last grand prix didn't happen. So if Lando was going to be petty, two can play this game.

The entire night was filled with snarky comments. Lando made sure to show how he wasn't enjoying the premiere, and Y/N had a comment for every comma that came out of his mouth. She could say anything to try pissing him off. What was making Lando angry, on the other hand, was seeing other men looking her up and down, just like a piece of meat. Didn't they have anything else better to do?

After Y/N spent good ten minutes talking to a very hot model, who was flirting with her the whole time, Lando gave up on waiting for him to leave and approached them, letting his hand go around her waist, securing her close to his body.

“Jesus, don't they realize you're taken?”, Lando mumbled, as he frowned at the model, now long gone.

"I thought we weren't a real couple. So there's nothing wrong with other men flirting with me", she provoked, feeling his fingers tighten around her waist.

“There is when, publicly, you're still mine. Or don’t you remember my one and only rule?”, you could see the red creeping up his neck. Was he actually jealous? It can't be.

“You really are a book I can't read”, she sighed, making an exit towards the theatre where the movie would be exhibited.

Thank God for long movies, because they wouldn't have to listen to each other's voices for three hours. But after a standing ovation once the credit's started rolling up, Y/N proceeded to try talking to as many people as she could at the cocktail party after the session. At the end of the day, she had talked to really important directors and producers, who in the future might think of her while doing a new project.

Lando, on the other hand, stood by her side and looked bored. He hated the film, thinking it was too conceptual for his liking, not to mention too long for a fucking boring plot. Y/N was getting angry at his behaviour and was making their deal go through the sky.

“I swear to God, if you keeping doing this, I'll call our team and end this whole fucking thing”, she complained, making him roll his eyes.

“Fuck off, you're still full on flirting with other men in front of me. I'm not the only one fucking this agreement”, by that time, they were alone in a secluded area of the party.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Norris, I'm working, not flirting, for fuck’s sake. This is the same thing as talking to sponsors. I'm not fucking flirting with any of them”, she was visibly angry at his behaviour.

“Well, it doesn't look like it”.

The fight was taken back to their hotel room and they did their best to make their discussion go unnoticed by other people. But once the doors were closed, they fought like they were married with children.

“This is disrespectful”, Lando shot when they brought up the men she talked to through the night.

“It's work, Norris. I don't know why you're so fucking jealous”.

“Because, we're in a goddamn relationship, Y/N. You can't go out all flirting with other men”.

“You said yourself we weren't in a real relationship. So why are you so jealous?”

“I'm not”, he reaffirmed, making her chuckle.

“Prove it”, she crossed her arms and daringly arched her brows.

She made every molecule of his body agitated. Once, Lando thought it was anger, for all the times they fought without having a reason and all the days she behaved like a brat, making his blood boil under his skin. Now, after the crash and the moment they shared in that tiny driver’s room, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

He was furious; absolutely livid, without knowing exactly what he wanted. Normally, Lando is a very decisive man. But when it came to Y/N, things were just a mess in his head. And right now, looking at her with her arched brows and folded arms, almost daring him to explode at her, he knew that there was only one thing he could do to end up with the fire that was consuming him.

The next second, Lando had his lips on Y/N, furiously attacking them in the neediest kiss of all time. She was taken by surprise and actually had to wait a few seconds to reciprocate anything. She had that look on her face, provoking him into the edge, waiting for a shout that would give her a single reason to hate him. Now he’s got her on the hook and there was no way to run. Actually, Y/N didn’t actually want to run anyway.

Lando had pressed her against the wall, a leg right between her thighs, keeping them apart and their bodies close. He had a hand around her neck, and another one on her hips, securing her against the wall. The pressure he put on her throat felt delicious. No one had ever held her like that before. Her panty was soaking wet not even two seconds later.

It only felt better when he moved his kisses down, trailing them to her neck. His lips sucked on her sweet spot, right under her ear, making her moan with the hot sensation over her skin. Also, if she wasn’t turned on at that point, feeling Lando’s hard on her thigh absolutely did the job. And if he was playing a game, she knew how to dance around it as well. Quickly, one of her hands was palming him over his trousers. He moved back to her mouth, kissing her as if his life depended on it, and biting her bottom lip when the pleasure got too much for him.

“Stop it”, he moaned against her lips, making her smile. “You can only touch me when I say you can touch me”.

“Bullshit”, she dared. “Look at you, Lando. You can’t get enough of my touches. I know you want them all”.

“Fucking…”, Lando removed his knee from between her legs and helped her kneel on the ground right in front of him. He leaned forward and softly landed his hand on her chin, making Y/N look up. She tried to put her best innocent look and he was absolutely done for her. “Open your mouth, baby”.

Y/N opened her mouth for just a little bit, and Lando slipped his thumb in so she could suck on it. Then after a while, he replaced it with his middle and index finger, going in deeper and making her almost gag on his hands. Tired of playing games, he kneeled as well, levelling their eyes, before letting his hand travel to the zip on her back.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to see you”, he left a few soft kisses on her cheek and daringly opened the zip. “Can I take this off?”, she nodded, but Lando wasn’t satisfied. “I need to hear you say the words”.

“Yes, please”, she pleaded and soon her dress was on the floor, exposing her bare tits from the lack of bra and lacy black thong. Lando didn’t waste a second before dipping his head into her nipples, sucking, biting and playing with both of them. Y/N was a moaning mess in second, pulling his head closer to her body as she felt fantastic with just his lips on her nipples. “Lan, oh my God. Please, I wanna feel you”.

“You misbehaved”, he smirked, getting away from her tits to undo his belt. “I told you not to touch me and just wait. Now, if you wanna touch me, you better open up”.

He quickly lowered his trousers along with his underwear and his hard cock came hard, slapping on his stomach. Lando was sure he could die happily at the sight of Y/N’s eyes brightening and her mouth automatically opening wider for him. “Good girl”, he praised, taking her face by the chin and bringing his cock to her lips.

Y/N’s mouth felt so warm and amazing; Lando was losing it. He started trusting his hips into her face, making his dick go deeper in her throat and her gagging sending delicious vibrations up his body. He was surprised when one of her hands grabbed his balls and massaged them, sending him over the edge just quick enough. He had to pull away before coming on her throat. Y/N pouted in the absence of his cock, still being attached to it by a string of spit and pre-cum. Lando used one of his hands to wipe it off before kissing her again.

“Baby girl, I need to last longer, and you’re not helping at all”, he whispered on her lips once again, making Y/N giggle. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a hand sneaking into her pussy, his middle finger gathering the juices pooling on her panty. She let an audible moan out, making him know how much she was enjoying that. “Do you want my fingers?”

“Yes”, she breathed out and Lando picked her from the floor, quickly taking her to bed, where they could get more comfortable. He slowly removed her underwear and tossed it around the room, the place getting filled with her glorious smell. 

“Spread your legs wider, love”, Lando commanded and she immediately responded. “Good, just like that”. Y/N was going feral with the praise, and he got it right away. “You have a praise kink, pretty girl? Oh, that’s so sweet”.

Now that he knew that, Lando was going to put that information to use. He went back to her mouth though, this time slowing down the pace of her kiss, but the intensity was just like before. As much as he wanted to jump right in and just fuck the shit out of her, he would do anything to make this last for as long as he could. “If I am to have her for only one night, I want it to be unforgettable”, he thought.

Y/N was drunk on his kisses; feeling her soaking wet core brushing on his bare thigh and his tongue furiously sliding against hers. She just wanted to feel him, so she guided his hand to her pussy and pleaded with her eyes. Being a good boy, Lando slipped a finger inside her and pumped it inside slowly, making her lose it, throwing her head back in pleasure.

“Yes, right there. Oh my… Lando”, her hands flew to his back, fingers digging on his skin. Y/N started to roll her hips against his hand and he smiled at her attempt to feel even better. “I need more, please. One more”.

“One more finger, baby?”, Lando immediately obeyed, loving the sweet moan that came out of her mouth right after. “Come on, tell me what you want”.

“Kiss me, Lan”, she pulled his head closer to hers and her lips met his midway. Lando could’ve died happily just like that. He was getting addicted to her kisses, specially now that they were wanted and asked for. They weren’t a stunt act. They were behind closed doors. She was doing it willingly. 

“Does that feel good?”, he asked between kisses and she nodded, feeling a knot tightening around her stomach.

“I’m gonna cum”, she grunted, making him start circling her clit with his thumb. “Shit, shit. I’m cumming”.

Her pussy clenched around his finger and now he was covered with her juices. Knowing it would make her go crazy, Lando brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, moaning at the taste of her sweetness. “God, makes me want to get it straight from the source. You taste so good, baby girl”.

Y/N sat on bed and jumped right into his neck, wrapping her arms around his head to kiss him intensely. Lando was surprised by that, but he couldn’t get enough of her kisses. He has been learning to love them for a long time now, but it was so different; so magical. 

“You want to eat me out, uhm?”, she asked him, making Lando arch his eyebrow and smile. “I asked you a question”.

“Well, I would not be opposed to it”.

“That’s not an answer, Lando”, she stopped kissing him, throwing her back against the mattress and getting comfortable between the pillows. She was not going to make him say it. He was the dominant; he wasn’t the one to say those kinds of things. But when Y/N spread her legs and started to play with herself, he just couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Fuck yes, I do. I want to eat you out, pretty girl”, he fell down, head right between her thighs, and started to trail kisses up her legs, until his lips were wrapped around her clit. If Y/N was trying to contain herself, she just couldn’t do it with how good it felt to him eating her pussy so deliciously.

But with their history, she just couldn’t help but provoke him. “You can do better than this”, Y/N dared, as if she wasn’t a moaning mess a few seconds before. And Lando wasn’t one to turn down challenges.

He pulled both of her legs over his shoulder, securing his head on her pussy and making her more comfortable. This time, he started sucking on her clit while working two fingers inside of her. He was too busy to say anything, but Y/N had a whole fucking lot to say about his work.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good. Shit, you just know how to find the right spot. Gonna make me cum again, uhm?”, she was almost screaming in pleasure. When Lando started brushing the right spot inside of her, she felt like she was going to explode. It was different than any other orgasm she ever had in her life. She cummed so hard on his mouth, screaming his name in response.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”, Lando had a beautiful smile on his face, that was covered in her juices. “Shit, that was so perfect”.

“You did so good”, she let a hand up to his face, rubbing circles on his cheek with an adorable smile on her face. But then, her hand fell to his cock, pulling him closer to her as she jerked him. “But now it’s time for both of us to feel good”.

Lando kissed her once again, just because the kisses were an addiction by now. Her hands pumping him only made it all feel so much better. Just the thought of having her around his cock made it twitch.

“Eager much?” She smirked on his lips, but Lando didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled her legs to wrap around his torso and guided his cock to her entrance, head brushing her pussy and collecting all the wetness. Y/N moaned and whined just with the contact.

“Eager much?” He joked back before putting just the tip inside. She felt so tight around him, Lando had to take a second to put it all in, needing to push one of her legs over his shoulder, just to give him more access. “Holy fuck, you feel so good around me. Baby, so tight for me. Fuck yes”.

He had closed his eyes, but she gripped on his throat, making him look down again. “Let me see your eyes, Lan”, she asked. His ocean green blue-ish orbs met hers and he quickly wrapped one of his hands on her throat as well. 

“Say my name again”, it was his turn to ask, and she moaned with the request. “Say it”.

“Lando”, she whispered, his cock now moving delicately inside of her. 

“Louder”, he demanded, picking up the pace.

“Lando!”, she screamed, making him slammer down his cock inside her. “I want you to ruin me”.

“Your wish is my command”. Now it was a matter of honour, and Lando was going to give what she asked. So he found the best pace, keeping the movements firm, yet slow enough to not be too much.

“You’re so big, love”, she praised, brushing her hands on his cheek, making him look her in the eyes. Lando looked so pretty while trying to contain his moans to speak. “I can’t get enough of you. I’m so full”

“You take me so well, my love. Fuck me”, his movements were getting sloppier, and she could feel his cock already twitching inside of her. Y/N also noticed that he was holding back his force, trying not to overstep. 

“Don’t hold back, baby. You can use me”, she encouraged, and that was all Lando needed to hear before quickening the pace. And then, it was getting too hard for him to hold back. He wanted to last longer, but it all felt so good. Lucky enough, Y/N started to clench around him. “I’m gonna cum, Lan. Please!”

“Let’s cum together, pretty girl. Come on, we can do this”.

He glued his eyes with her, the hand on her throat not letting them break eye contact as the waves of pleasure crashed over their bodies. Y/N came first, but less than 5 seconds later, he pulled out to come on her stomach. She pumped him outside, getting him dry, while he retributed the favour with his fingers until they were both done.

Y/N had to wait a second to come back to her senses, but Lando promptly took a cloth from the bathroom and cleaned the mess he made over her. Then, too tired to function, he dropped his body over her and pressed a few kisses all over her face. It was like now that he had finally had her, he just wanted to curl up with her and forget about the whole world. And she was willing to let him do just that, because that was exactly what she wanted as well.

He fell asleep just a few seconds into their comfortable silence. Y/N continued to roll her fingers through his curls, lulling him into deep slumber, as she thought about what had just happened. It was still unbelievable in her head, but she kept replaying every moment, already missing his touch. And if her feelings for Lando were already confusing because of that night after his crash, this only made things worse. But having him sleeping on her arms, his digits digging on her skin as he clings tight onto her, made her forget about all her worries.

He woke up for just a few seconds and caught her staring at him. Instead of pretending she wasn’t looking, Y/N cracked him a smile. Lando opened an even wider smile before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep, angel. Come on”, he got off her to turn off the lamp on the night stand, turning the room dark.

He found a spot for his head on a pillow and missed the warmth of Y/N. So he pulled her closer until she was lying on top of him. The skin to skin contact felt so intimate and comfortable for them. No fabric or cloth between them, just their bodies holding in together. And with his soft hands on her hair, Y/N fell asleep listening to Lando’s heartbeat, who had his own funny pace: quick in adoration for her, and then slow, after she calmed him down.

She would be the death of him someday.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstufff @bishhhitsaurionn @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins@riccdannyf1 @kapsylia @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @cmleitora @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @ellen3101 @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @naanibubbletimmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @architect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @books0fever @marialovesf1 @sltwins @ourteenagetragedy @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @chilisandmilk @elleeeee21 @likedbygaslyy

crossed means i can't tag you! dm me and maybe we can get it fixed

[ravenna-reid]

CRIMSON RED

Jason Todd x Pain Inflictor Reader

TW: nothing crazy, just swearing and mentions of violence

˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖

All they called you was Crimson.

Maybe because of your signature lipstick and that lace that was always in your hair.

Or maybe because of the blood you drew out of your targets without so much as raising a finger.

A telekinetic pain inflictor. The worst kind of metahuman.

But Red Hood had no reason to worry about you just yet. You tended to keep a low profile and there were bigger fish to fry. And if he was being honest, the sound of you and your abilities were kind of terrifying.

Jason's little mission all went wrong though, given his intel was missing key information. Now he was bound to a chair in a warehouse with a dripping roof. And that dripping eerily echoed as he sat and waited. Desperately keeping his fears and demons at bay.

Being tied to a chair. The looming threat of torture. It all hit a little too close to home.

Two-Face eventually sauntered into view, the rest of the warehouse behind and beside him concealed in shadows. Jason had to grimace every time he saw his face.

"You ugly bastard." Jason retorted, masking his fear with snarky insults and sarcasm. "Gotten work done recently?" He nodded towards Harvey's face with his head.

"Son of a bitch." Two-Face's face contorted with rage. "I would watch my mouth if I were you. You're finally gonna die tonight, and this time you won't be coming back."

Jason swallowed hard, pissed off that he didn't have his helmet to hide the fear-inducing anticipation on his pale face.

"But we'll let the coin decide how this is gonna play out."

So Harvey went on with his odd ritual and flipped his coin. It landed on the tarnish side, and Jason had no idea what that meant. Suddenly, Two-Face was calling out to someone behind him. Someone hidden deep within the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Jason waited and waited, sweat dripping down the side of his face.

He expected a gruesome looking thug or some other high profile villain. Maybe Penguin, or even Harley.

The sound of heeled boots slowly echoed through out his bleak surroundings, accompanied by a laugh like velvet. You soon came into view.

Crimson mask concealing the top half of your face, the colour matching that string of lace that sat comfortably in your hair. Your usual deep red outfit hugged your body, similar to Catwoman's except for the fact that it wasn't a whole bodysuit. And of course, your stark, scarlet lips were contorted into a sinister smile.

He'd seen you around. But seeing you this close in person was a different story. Jason's breath hitched once you were right in front of him. Truthfully, he never intended to meet you. And now it was so much worse given you would be the one torturing him tonight.

Fuck this mission really went south.

"Here, the coin says you get to toy with him tonight." Two-Face said with a dismissive wave of his hand and scoff as he turned his back. "I have a deal I need to be making soon."

Jason watched as he left, muscles stiff with frustration and venom in his eyes. This was the deal Jason was supposed to be preventing.

As Jason's eyes lingered on Two-Face, your eyes were focused on him. His ivory skin and deep, jet black hair. The aggravated expression painted across his face. That muscular figure.

And that odd looking J scar on the side of his face.

"Red Hood..." Your voice lingered and shivers suddenly went down Jason's arms. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Can't say I feel the same way." He responded harshly, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to devise an escape plan. Which would, most likely, be futile and stupid.

"Mmm, mean. It's not like you're a saint Red." You calmly pointed out, voice smooth like wine.

And then he looked up at you. "Oh, really? You're one to talk? Ms snaps someones bones and crushes their lungs with a blink of an eye."

Finally making contact, you saw the confliction swirling in those eyes, and for some odd reason something tightened your throat.

Jason didn't miss the subtle furrow of your brows as you neared him. Slowly circling him like a predator.

"Deciding what bone you're going to break first?"

You scoffed, but it was more like a laugh. As you walked behind Jason he began to feel his skin crawl, his heart beat faster. He wished you were standing in front of him again. Staring down at him the way you were.

As you went around him, you noticed the back of his shirt was slightly tugged down, revealing slithers of iridescent scars. Many, many scars.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, but you remained silent until you faced him again. And this time all you did was stare back at him, mind deep in thought. Something stirred deep in your chest. Regret? Sympathy?

"You're just a kid." The words left your mouth in a gentle whisper as you realised he was probably no older than you.

So no, he wasn't a kid. But he wasn't old enough to have his body broken by you. Sure, you butchered people with your mind all the time. But they were criminals. Enemies. Scum. They always had it coming. But him? Red Hood?

You just couldn't do it. It was ridiculous, you knew that. But you couldn't. You wondered where Two-Face was and how he'd react to your odd decision. But hell, you didn't care about ignoring Two-Face's order. Rules and regulations never stopped you before, and what was he going to do?

Jason initially wanted to get even more mad about that statement. Insulted that you just called him a boy when he was in his 20's. But he kept to himself, continuing to watch you closely.

"So what are you gonna do now huh? Cause this game is getting a little boring Crimson."

His attitude made you smirk a little. You suddenly slipped a red-blade dagger from your belt. Jason frowned, wondering why you wouldn't just use you powers, when you cut the zip ties and rope keeping him bound.

Now he was glancing up at you, eyes wide with confusion and suspicion.

"You gonna go or did you actually want me to hurt you?" You asked, brows raised. But already knowing the answer, you were turning to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" He sounded like he was accusing you of something. You turned to look back over your shoulder.

The sympathy was back, but also a few other feelings. Butterflies in your stomach and what not. Shit he was handsome.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're kinda cute."

He scoffed before grabbing his helmet from the floor. "Spare me."

Suddenly a sharp pain began in his knees before they turned into brittle leaves. He dropped down onto them and stayed there as the pain began to subside. Then he shot a glare up at you. You were already standing before Jason and looking down at him, that smug smile on your pretty face.

"Mm," You hummed, eyes dancing across his features as you took him in. "Very cute."

Then you turned to leave, and Jason was left blushing and speechless.

Part 2

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[thir10th]

too many shoes - October writing challenge day 4

summary: moving in together was the best thing that could happen to you, however there'a this one thing you've been avoiding tw: none, this is pure fluff a/n: this is probs one of my most favorite things I’ve written, so make sure to lmk if you love it just as much! ❤️

It's only one week that you've been living together but most of the boxes were already empty and things are on its place, it was almost a miracle considering the amount of free days you have, and how effectively you had both worked it all.

The living room was for sure the hardest to put up, but since it was done, it was the centre of the house.

The big couch is enough to let you both lay comfortably on oposite ends, or at least it would be if you didn't prefer to be completely wrapped up on each other.

Emily's head rests comfortably on your shoulder, and you play with her hair absentmindedly and the movie almost finishing up.

"I'm never getting tired of it" you said, the rom com with the ending credits rolling on the screen being one of your favorites.

"yeah it's nice" Emily says with a smile plastered on her face, you kiss her on the head, sitting up to grab the remote.

"you know what i wish they did?" she says, grabbing a pillow and hugging it.

"hm?" you ask, turning the tv off and looking at her, her hair all sprawled out, her Yale hoodie and sweat pants, the pillow on her lap and a blanket over her shoulders. She looks so cuddly liked that.

The image of Emily like that- so sweet and calm, it's one you couldn't picture anywhere else that wasn't your now called home, you smile at her, that comforting feeling of your shared space feeling warm on your stomach.

"lesbian romcoms" she says, taking you out of your head "they don't do lesbian romcoms like this, only the sad, coming out, historical dramas, they're all so sad" she complains.

"yeah, you're right" you agree

"it would be so sweet to just have a silly meet-cute, or a love triangle, or an opposites attract with lesbians, i would watch it" you love her rambling so much, it makes you smile how she only choses to show that side of herself with you.

"I would gladly watch that with you, my love" you lower to kiss her lips softly, she grabs your face softly and you feel her smile against the kiss, her hands feel warm despite her usual cold fingers.

"you know what? I've got an idea" you say, separating from the kiss.

"do you wanna make our own lesbian romcom?" she asks, lifting one eyebrow seductively, it makes you laugh.

"no- I mean, yes, but later" you peck her lips and hold both her hands "we are gonna do... the closet" you announce, and you can see the moment it sinks in.

"oh, right now? c'mon, it's too much work, we got home early today, why don't we watch something else? a lesbian thing this time like The L word or something" you pull her, but she uses her body weight to stay sitting on the big couch.

"Oh c'mon Em, we'll do it together, and it will be super fast, c'mon let's go, i don't wanna shuffle through another box for my work clothes tomorrow" you pull her up against her efforts of staying seated, but eventually gives out, standing straight, wrapping her arm around yours for support.

The closet is big. Bigger than any other closet you've ever had. The walk in space can easily be divided for you and Emily.

The amount of boxes is probably bigger even than the kitchen boxes, which shouldn't come as a surprise considering the amout of shoes Emily has.

"ugh, we will never finish with all of these, it's too much stuff" she complains while shuffling through another box.

"we won't with that attitude, i'm sure, and also not with the amount of shoes here. Do you really need another pair of black boots? I swear you have like ten"

"First of all, that's an exaggeration, I only have 6, and second, yes, I do. Each one has its own personality.” she grins, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Ah, of course. I’d hate to stifle their individual identities.” you laugh, mimicking her tone.

She giggles "now you're catching up."

Emily reaches over to grab an item on the pile of clothes she's been separating. "Hey, have you seen my top that goes with this pants?" she asks, and you lift your sweatshirt to show her the small shirt"

"Oops" you say, and she smiles knowingly.

"I don't even know why we bother separating if you keep stealing all my clothes" she shrugs.

"Hey! You steal my clothes too" you try to defend, but Emily laughs, you know she was just teasing you.

"it's ok baby i don't mind, you do make everything I own look pretty irresistible.” she smirks.

“Flattery isn’t going to save you from this" you grab yet another thing from the pile of clothes.

"Oh, c'mon, i already came out of the closet when i was young, i don't want to enter it again" she smiles proudly of her own joke, and shakes her shoulders.

"And funny is not going to stop me from donating this one.” you say, throwing a shirt at her playfully.

“That was from when I was in Rome! You can’t get rid of my history!” she mock gasps, dramatically clutching the shirt.

“Fine, fine, it stays. But the next hoodie you leave on my side of the closet is officially mine.” you accept, folding a hoodie.

“Deal. I’m not even mad about that. You look cuter in them anyway.” she says, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

Teasingly, you raise an eyebrow “You just like an excuse to see me in your clothes.”

"Well, you're not wrong" she smirks, grabbing another shirt to fold.

After a while, you notice her eyeing a particularly vibrant red dress, its fabric shimmering slightly in the closet's light. She holds it up, letting it sway gently in front of her. “You know, I wore this on a date once. I thought I’d impress this girl, but she ended up being more into my friend,” she laughs, the sound light and airy.

“Hey, I’d be into you in that dress,” you say, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

“Really?” she teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You think I’d look good in it? Maybe I should try it on for you...”

You chuckle, your heart fluttering at the suggestion. “I think it’s more than just the dress that would impress me.”

Emily’s cheeks flush a shade deeper as she bites her lip, her gaze playful yet earnest. “You know what? I think I will. And while I’m at it, we should plan on making our own romcom after this...” she adds, her eyes shining with excitement and mischief.

You nod, appreciating the thought. “Sounds perfect. I could use some of that after all this heavy lifting.”

“Oh yes. You're still wearing my clothes after all” she laughs, and winks at you, and then with a playful glint in her eye, she slips the dress off its hanger and heads toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back!”

You watch her go, heart racing a little at the thought of her in that dress. A few moments later, she emerges, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly, the neckline just low enough to be enticing without being over the top.

"oh fuck-" that's the only thing that comes out of you when she steps back in.

“How do I look?” she asks, twirling playfully, the dress swirling around her.

“Like you just stepped out of a movie,” you say, your voice a mix of admiration and sincerity. “Seriously, you look stunning.”

Emily beams, her confidence radiating off her in waves. “I feel like I should be on a date or something.”

“Or starring in our own romantic comedy,” you suggest, your gaze steady on her, drinking in every detail—the way the dress accentuates her figure, the way she moves with such ease.

“Right? Like, imagine a silly meet-cute where I trip over my own feet and fall right into your arms,” she laughs, her eyes sparkling. “And then it turns into this wild adventure where we fight the odds and end up together, just like in those movies.”

“Definitely. You’d have to make it a happy ending, though,” you reply, stepping closer to her, feeling the magnetic pull of her presence.

Emily bites her lip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she murmurs, glancing up at you through her lashes.

You take a moment to soak in her words and the beauty before you, feeling her playfulness. “You really could pull off that whole leading lady vibe,” you say softly, your heart racing as you lean in just a little closer.

“Maybe I could use a leading lady to match,” she replies, her voice dipping into something a bit more sultry. “What do you think? You up for the challenge?”

You can feel the warmth radiating from her, your heart pounding in your chest. “I think I can handle that,” you whisper, and without thinking, you close the distance, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It’s tender, electric- the domesticity feeling so natural you could melt against her any second.

As you pull back, Emily smiles shyly, her cheeks still flushed from both the kiss, and the thought of it. She grabs your hand and pulls you outside “c'mon, let's come out of the closet- again"

You laugh softly, pulling her closer to you. "We don't need the straight romcoms while we have each other." you kiss her again, she hums against your lips, agreeing with you.

"And the L word, of course" you add, making Emily laugh.

“Sounds perfect,” she replies, her smile brightening the room, making it feel less like a space filled with boxes and more like your own little world, where everything was just right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GLAD I AM THAT YOUR WRITE FOR SPTO THANK YOUUUU

UGH okay, my craziness aside; could you try “I think I’m in love with you” with Matthew Patel? It doesn’t matter who says it, I jsut think it’d be adorable (I adore that funky theatre punk so so much <3)

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!

"Do it!"

"Come on, Lord Matthew!"

"We're getting impatient.."

"Maybe we'll go in and tell them ourselves-"

"Ladies, that's enough! I will tell them myself...i-in a minute. First, I need to rehearse what I'm going to say..I can't mess this up."

The demon hipster chicks could only stare at their master with blank expressions, knowing damn well that he was stalling the inevitable:

That being his confession to you.

You two go back as far as middle school, with you being the first friend he ever made who didn't mind his weirdness or mystical powers. Plus, you shared his admiration for the theater and dramatics when he started obsessing over those, becoming his number one supporter.

Until now, Matthew never thought he'd fall for you like he did Ramona. But he feared rejection, ridicule, or worse--the relationship being extremely short-lived and him never getting to experience a "true love's kiss".

Once was painful enough.

He couldn't go through that again.

Of course, his demon hipster chicks knew all about this and the months he's spent pining after you. As much as they didn't like you "stealing" away his attention...they realized you made their master genuinely happy.

And above everything else, they wanted him to be happy.

So they were thrilled when he summoned them, seeing that they were at the doorstep to your apartment and squealing upon noticing the giftbox he had for you.

Finally, he seemed ready to move on from Ramona.

Yet....he had spent ten solid minutes pacing along the floor and trying to hype himself up, his confidence totally shot, before he eventually stopped in front of your door again.

"Okay, I got it! Erm..."Roses are red, violets are--" no, that's stupid. It's too cliche! Everybody uses that!" Shaking his head, he tried to think of something else. ""Hey, would you like to be the Romeo to my Juliet--" ohh, what am I saying?! That's not romantic!! That would mean our relationship could end in tragedy...UGH!!"

"Don't overthink it, my lord." One of the demons whispered to him. "Just tell them how you feel."

"....it can't be that simple, can it?"

"....."

"..alright. I'll take your advice. I'm going for it." With a nervous swallow, he bowed his head and raised a hand to knock at the door-

Only for it to swing open, causing him to freeze in-place and look up to see you on the other side. He quickly hid both hands behind his back, hoping you didn't see the gift. "H-Hi.."

"Oh hey, Matty. Hey, girls." You smiled, looking past him and waving to the demons. But as your gaze shifted back to his, you wondered why he seemed extremely nervous. "Are you feeling okay?"

"..yeah. Just..wanted to see how you were doing." Pink was starting to dust his cheeks. "Did you uh...know I was going to come visit?"

"Um...yeah? You texted me earlier."

"......"

"And I saw you outside my window and figured you forgot the spare key."

"Shit..did I?" Matthew checked his coat pockets, feeling more embarrassed to know he forgot such a simple thing. All because he couldn't stop thinking about you. "I guess I did forget.......how about I go get it?"

You blinked in confusion. "Huh? But you're-"

"I'll be back, I swear-?!!"

The second he tried to run away, two of the demons grabbed a hold of his arms, dragging him into your apartment, while the other two guarded the door it in case he attempted another escape. He yelled in outrage, putting up a bit of struggle before they let go.

At this point, he was seething red, prepared to yell at them for their betrayal and the humiliation it brought upon him...

But they just winked and disappeared, the last one wishing him luck.

Of course.

"I can't believe it! The nerve of those-"

"What was that all about? You're acting kinda..odd, Matthew." Raising an eyebrow, you sat down on your sofa, having no clue why the man in front of you looked so flustered.

"I....have something I need to say." He decided to sit beside you, sighing heavily. "[Y/n], I think....I..I..."

"Yes?"

"...I-I think I'm in love with you!" Finally blurting it out, he closed his eyes and handed you the box, too afraid to see your expression. "I know it's sudden but..you've always been there for me. Ever since I found my passion for theater. Ever since Ramona dumped me...you were by my side. A-And I feel like I took that for granted. I thought I only wanted revenge against those who wronged me....but no. I want something better. I want love...and I want to be yours. So please...let me prove that I can be a good boyfriend and not evil!"

Part of him wanted to curl up and die as he continued babbling on and on about his feelings, thinking about the hundreds of other ways he could have done this.

He could flawlessly play the role of a love interest in a musical or play and move the audience to tears so effortlessly. But off-stage, he felt like a bumbling lovesick idiot who isn't making any sense to his crush..

There's no way you could love him back.

Not after seeing him like this.

Yet after feeling the box being removed from his hands, Matthew bravely opened his eyes, watching as you took out the black and red roses he put inside it. The thorns have been clipped off, allowing you to twirl the stems in your fingers for a moment or two.

Then you looked at him with the brightest of smiles, laughing softly. "Of course you'd give me roses, you dork. That's so....you." You set them aside before moving closer, taking his hands into yours. "I'm trusting you to uphold that promise."

His heart was soaring.

He must definitely be dreaming right now.

"S-So...it's a yes?"

You chuckled, nodding. "Yes. And...I promise to be with you for longer than a week."

That got him choked up. He couldn't say anything else in that moment, as his only response was pulling you into a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.

Thank god he didn't ruin this.

You just smiled and held him close, relieved that he finally decided to try loving again. When he calmed down enough to look back up into your eyes, that's when you both decided to go for the kiss--just in case he had any more doubts in his mind.

And there were sparks galore.

[flyingwargle]

july fanfic recommendations!

i read an obscene amount of fanfic last month with some that i must share with others, hence this post. i still over >100 fics to read so maybe this will be a monthly series? we'll see.

some fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

rotten work & other things worth doing t. 3k. atsumu and sakusa clean atsumu's bathroom together. that's it, that's the fic. lots of hurt/comfort and love and affection <3

The Sakusa Complaint Jar t. 3.6k. hilarious take on the swear jar, especially as atsumu learns he's more down bad for sakusa than he thought.

Appease and Assuage t. 5.1k. sakusa has a bad day and atsumu is there for him. very soft and raw with sakusa feeling off-kilter, and atsumu knows exactly how to help him.

come, morning light g. 5.2k. sakusa gets sick and tries to push atsumu away but eventually lets him in. very soft and domestic.

Here Is Your Verse m. 15.52. 2/2. atsumu ends his fwb relationship with sakusa because he caught feelings. they end up reconciling in the end.

when you hear hoofbeats t. 42.4k. 14/14. university au slowburn where sakusa has eds and he gets into a relationship with atsumu. be aware of the chapter warnings because it gets heavy but has a happy ending!

Stockholm Syndrome Isn't Real e. 50.2k 8/8. side sunaosa(komo). au where atsumu is a pro athlete but osamu is secretly a hacker and atsumu is kidnapped in his place. love the action, tension, and everything about this.

sunaosa

slip of the pen t. 6k. suna channels all his pining into award-winning books and osamu has never read any of them. the pining is top-tier in this.

moonsick m. 7.8k. fwb to lovers in suna's pov. is it really a sunaosa fic without one of them being emotionally constipated?

in the mood for love m. 8.3k. friends to exes to friends to lovers pipeline. i love the prose and osamu's thoughtful narration.

Litany in Which Certain Words Are Said t. 10.9k. 5 times osamu says "i love you" and 1 time suna says it back. oohh the yearning in this is top-tier!

a type of hunger m. 9.1k. i love the exploration of suna's hunger in this as an athlete and feeling like he's falling behind. good thing osamu is there for him <3

An Inconvenient Espionage e. 26.6k. 5/5. side sakuatsu. spy au, assholes to lovers. good action, good spy work, good tension 👀

somewhere to lay the flowers t. 25.6k. i've read a healthy amount of bastigod's works and trans suna has me in a chokehold. i also love magical realism and the mythology in this was woven wonderfully. suna's daughter is also a delight!

iwaoi

stumble into the sun e. 3.6k words of iwaizumi discovering that oikawa has a praise kink. it's also very soft and lovely.

Press '1' to Get a Call From Your Drunk Best Friend t. 5.4k. a drunk iwaizumi spills about his love and appreciation for oikawa. it's hilarious and fluffy and one of my favorites <3

HIPS DON'T LIE e. 8.1k. iwaizumi overhears girls talk about how good oikawa is in bed and is given a live demonstration from the man, himself.

i wanna ruin our friendship t. 18/18. oikawa comes to terms that he's in love with his best friend. features heavy themes, read the chapter warnings before proceeding. there's a happy ending!

bokuaka

Tell Me, Eurydice (How Could I Not?) t. 6.3k. lovely prose from akaashi's perspective about bokuto becoming captain and the idea of akaashi being his vice captain.

hoot if you've heard this one before t. 5.2k. bokuto and akaashi lose contact and find each other in university at a cafe that akaashi owns. lovely reconciliation fic and relationship recovery.

papers (the special, laminated ones) t. 5.3k. bokuto's parents have a tradition of laminating all his special papers and he isn't allowed to get them until "he's ready." i loved how sweet and fluffy this was, especially with his relationship with akaashi <3

Spaces aren’t Voids 7.2k. bokuto had every intention to propose until he lost the ring. a very fun and fluffy fic of a marriage proposal that doesn't quite go through but things go well in the end.

To Have and to Rail e. 12.4k. this is more humor than smut about akaashi's scientific exploration to match bokuto's stamina in bed. it doesn't go as well as he hopes (of course. good luck, akaashi)

onigiri miya: brand ambassadors (applications closed) g. 4k. bokuto is kinda slightly jealous of how close akaashi is to osamu because he's obsessed with onigiri miya. hinata feels the same way with kageyama. so what do they do? become brand ambassadors for osamu. absolutely hilarious and fluffy!

Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved) e. 56.6k. 27/27. oh the pipeline of strangers to roommates to fwb to lovers, i love it so. equal parts hurt/comfort, fluff, with the perfect amount of nsfw.

kagehina

soft serve t. 9.6k. hinata and kageyama drive an ice cream truck to fundraise money for karasuno's volleyball club. that's it, that's the fic.

Meme of the Day g. 4k. kageyama accidentally turns hinata into a meme. very fluffy and cute!

miscellaneous

yachi hitoka stop being so relatable challenge t. 4.1k. i loved this exploration of yachi being known and getting closer with the karasuno boys. she's such a precious cinnamon roll <3

north is everywhere. t. 12.1k. an exploration of kiyoko's development through high school, from being a manager out of obligation to continuing out of choice. also ace rep!

summer rolling down a cheek gen. 13.2k. a beautiful character study of kenma after the spring tournament as he thinks about the future and what comes next. beautiful prose and introspection.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Pregnant

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille takes a pregnancy test

It isn't unexpected.

They'd been trying for a little while now.

Magda had been given injections daily to produce eggs (leading to her being more irritable and snapping at everyone during training but refusing to give anyone an explanation about her sudden mood swings) so when they finally began to process of transferring the eggs to Pernille, they had been prepared.

The first few rounds were unsuccessful but neither wanted to give up hope.

It's during a gap in training that has Magda flying over to Germany, that Pernille realises that she's missed her period.

Magda's still on the plane when Pernille eventually ventures out of the comfort of her apartment to get a test. She's not too worried, eager to brush this off as her period is late or being a bit too stressed rather than getting her hopes too high so when Magda arrives, she's not in a depressed slump.

It's a little awkward, peeing on the stick. She does multiple of them, just to be sure and then leaves them on the side to wait.

Her mind wanders to what she'll do if she's actually pregnant. She'll be happy with a boy or a girl but, selfishly, in her mind's eye, she's always pictured herself with a girl - a mini-Magda on her hip to watch grow and develop and (hopefully) play football just like her mothers.

She doesn't quite know what she'd do with a boy or how different it would be to raise a son in a family with two mothers.

But, Pernille knows that she's getting ahead of herself, as she wanders back to the bathroom to take a look. She can't get ahead of herself on something like this.

A baby is a big step for her and Magda.

She can't start fantasising so early.

Pernille grabs the pregnancy tests

When Magda gets to the house, it's to complete silence. It's a little strange. Pernille's home is almost never silent, whether it be music or the tv in the background.

"Pernille!"

There's no answer for a moment and then a quiet, slightly choked up," Magda?"

"Pernille? Is something wrong?"

Magda doesn't like the way that Pernille sounds so close to tears.

"No-No...Magda, can you come here please?"

Magda hurries from the apartment quickly, slipping around in her socks on the wooden flooring as she finally skids to a stop at the bathroom.

Pernille's sitting on the floor, back pressed against the sink. She's got tears in her eyes and Magda thinks something terrible has happened.

She kneels down on the floor, cupping Pernille's cheeks to wipe away some of the wetness there.

"What is it?" She asks urgently," Are you hurt? Are you sick?"

Gently, Pernille pulls Magda's hands away from her face and slips something into them.

"We did it," Is all she says.

Magda stares down at the pregnancy tests for an embarrassingly long time. Her mind flicks between what it could mean before a lightbulb sparks in her brain and suddenly, she's crying too.

"We did it," She replies," We're having a baby."

Pernille nods. "A baby."

They go to the doctor, just to confirm what they already know and Magda takes notes during the appointment. She writes up a list of prenatal vitamins and their pros and cons. She writes up things Pernille should avoid eating and what times of day she'll likely be feeling nauseous.

For two weeks, it's blissful domesticity, like they're any other couple who has just been told they're going to have a baby soon.

"I can stay," Magda says at the airport before her flight," Let me call Emma. I can take some holiday days. I've got some saved up."

"Magda," Pernille says in fond scolding," You have to go." She holds her hand against her stomach. She's not even showing yet but she's sure that she can feel you inside of her. "We'll be fine."

Magda looks fleetingly back at the departure board before back to Pernille. "I'll be back soon," She promises," I swear. You and the princesse just need to hold out for a few more weeks."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "We don't even know if it is a princesse."

Magda looks down fondly at her belly. "I've just got a feeling."

"Go, Magda," Pernille says," And tell Emma that in nine months you'll be unavailable."

●～●～●～●～

As soon as Magda's on the plane, Pernille heads to the training centre. Subconsciously, her hand rests on her belly, where she swears that she can feel you growing.

She slumps down into her seat as the staff describes what has changed since the break, including much more rigorous gym sessions.

Pernille clears her throat and raises her hand. "And what exactly changes in a gym session if, maybe, someone is pregnant?"

Silence reigns for a moment before Nilla speaks," Are you-? You and Magda?"

Pernille nods. "We're having a baby," She says," Me and Magda. We're having a baby. I'm pregnant."

Chaos rings around the room as the girls either celebrate or stare, open mouthed and in shock at Pernille's news.

●～●～●～●～

Magda can't stop thinking about Pernille, about the fact that she's pregnant with you, all throughout the journey and for once, she's annoyed that she's timed her flight so she can get off and immediately head to training.

She's off in the changing rooms and she's off on the pitch and it's only at the video-review meeting that Magda checks through the proposed match schedule.

Emma is very prepared as a manager, even drawing up potential match days a year in advance despite none of them being confirmed.

"You're frowning pretty hard there, Magda," Millie says," Is there a typo or something?"

"No." Magda uses her finger to circle a group of matches. "I won't be able to make those matches."

"How come?"

The room is randomly quiet, conversations naturally coming to an end as Magda speaks.

"Pernille will have the baby around that time. I can't ask her to parent solo until the next break."

"Pernille's pregnant?! Why didn't you say earlier?!"

Noticing everyone watching, Magda's face grows hot.

"We only just found out?"

[lilacgaby]

day three

~2.3k

chapter select!

she woke up right before her alarm went off.

she saw messages on her phone, some addressed from mirko telling her to "hurry the hell

up or get left behind." some from a new group chat called 'OPERATION [NAME]', and a couple from bakugo.

whatever, she'd look them over later.

she took her time as she showered, got dressed in a civilian outfit, and soaked in the early morning sun from her balcony.

everyone else had heroes who'd stop by later to pick them up in the afternoon, so [name] was pretty much the only person up.

she was startled by a loud noise at the door. she was hanging around in the common room to pass some time, but since she was lost in though she let out an audible squeal at the sound.

she figured it was just mirko was banging on it to get her attention.

and it was.

she opened the door and stepped outside. mirko was dressed casually too, and she was carrying her own bag of belongings on her back.

"be more considerate! people are sleeping!"

"it's only six a.m [name], they have to be getting up at this hour anyways."

"whatever."

"anyways, we have a train to catch so let's go!" mirko then grabbed her hand and started their trek down to the station. they could've got a car,

but they both preferred to walk.

after a bit of walking and sitting in a comfortable silence, [name] decides to get some details on the mission.

"so mirko, what exactly is this mission about?"

"oh, it's just another couple of villains, except these ones are rumored to have connections to stain."

"stain? the hero killer? but isn't he--"

"dead, correct. but his influence was huge. apparently this group of villains have actually killed a hero already."

"what?!"

"yeah, and that's why we're going in. don't worry though, we'll have backup, or i guess partners, that you'll love."

"what do you mean?"

"you'll see."

"...

okay, where are we going anyways? you never take me on trains."

"oh, i didn't tell you? we're going to tokyo."

"tokyo? for what?"

"oh,

i decided to take on a mission with best jeanist's agency. i told you you'd love it!"

...

"i'm going to kill you."

ꔛ𖤐˒˒

as she sat on the train next to mirko, her finger hovered over the notification from bakugo.

she had to face him eventually, and they had to talk, but she couldn't help but feel deeply embarrassed.

technically they did kiss.

her face felt hot.

"hey, who're you texting? your boyfriend."

"i'm not texting anybody and i don't have a boyfriend. stop asking questions when you know i'll answer!"

"okay okay.

...

so what're you doing then?"

"i'm debating whether or not to text katsuki back."

mirko's smug face took over as she snickered.

"shut up!"

[name] shoved her headphones on, maybe if she didn't hear her she wouldn't have to answer the questions.

the temporary solution did work, but mirko grew agitated that she wasn't answering her so

she took her phone right out her hands.

"mirko! hand it back!" [name] stood up immediately, her heart rate rising almost instantly as mirko held it in her iron grip. the headphones fell out her ears and her music was now blasting in the train,

she'd be publically embarrassed if they didn't have the car all to themselves, but she still just wanted her phone back.

"give it back mirko! i swear--"

"stop ignoring me, im your mentor y'know!"

they chased each other around the train car, [name] just barely behind mirko.

after about a minute of struggle, she tried negotiating.

"okay, just give it back-"

"no way-"

"why? is it because you're scared of me texting back your blasty little crush?"

"that's exactly why so hand it bac--"

they were cut off by a husky, sleepy voice.

"the fuck are you talking about?"

[name] eyed her phone in horror, and mirko did in surprise, mirko immediately threw the phone at [name] and ran to the other side of the train car.

[name] fumbled with it in her grip, until finally shakily holding the phone with one hand.

she was stunned into silence. this had to be a joke.

"hello? flower freak? you there?"

it wasn't just a joke?!

"hello? [name]?"

"i'm here-- fuck. i- uh-- gotta go!"

"wai-"

she cut him off as she declined the call. she looked at the duration of the call.

no way.

it went on for two minutes.

he heard her fight for her life over his messages to her for two minutes.

while she didn't explicitly explain who her crush was, mirko did.

[name] turned over to eye mirko, who was now sitting in a corner pretending to be nonchalantly whistling.

whatever. [name] wearily thought as she sat back down on a seat, picking up her headphones that had fallen out during the confrontation. she put on some music and mindlessly started hoping to anyone that'd hear her out that bakugo didn't hear mirko's remark.

the rest of the train ride wasn't that bad. mirko finally, begrudgingly, apologized for taking it to far, and promised to take [name] out to eat after the mission was over.

they sat next to eachother, mirko promising not to use the truth quirk against her again because of the incident that just occurred.

[name] appreciated the sentiment, but it wouldnt undo the months of late night pondering she'd have of this moment.

she got over it for the moment being, after about another fifteen minutes they finally were let out in Tokyo.

it was really pretty there, compared to musutafu, it was really lively too.

mirko guided them to a very fancy hotel where they'd be staying in one of the very highest floors.

they dropped their stuff off and got ready in their hero outfits.

they took a break to eat lunch, [name] laying out on the terrace of the huge hotel as mirko devoured a large salad next to her. she didn't know mirko meant they'd literally have the floor to themselves, but she wasn't complaining.

it was time for them to head out.

"okay, you ready flora?"

"yes i am prepared.

...

as ready as ever i guess."

"don't be like that! he probably didn't even hear-"

"we were yelling into the phone. he definitely heard."

"okay, and so what? he probably likes you back!"

"no way. just let it go mirko, we have to walk like two miles."

"fine, if you say so."

the walk to best jeanist's agency was actually fun for [name]. she got to walk through all the tourist traps, look around while mirko signed autographs, and even take a couple photos on her phone.

oh yeah, her phone. she had now twenty-two notifications from bakugo since the ordeal, including missed calls, texts, and even voicemails.

she didn't even open them, she knew she'd have to talk to him face to face anyways. she felt a pit of dread settle in her stomach, but looked up at the agency greeting both her and mirko.

they walked in.

⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲 *⋆

They were greeted by one of Jeanist's many assistants, who guided them to a meeting room where a briefing was already taking place.

"we're late mirko?"

"yes, it's not my fault though, i did it all for the fans."

"...if you say so."

they walked into the meeting, [name] felt familiar red eyes following her as she settled into a seat next to mirko.

"okay, everyone's here. let's continue." jeanist declared, seemingly unbothered at mirko's tardiness.

[name] took a moment to look over the room. there were a couple other sidekicks, but the only U-A interns were her and katsuki.

she suddenly remembered she had to focus.

on the screen was a couple of locations marked in red circles, depicting different areas where heros reported being attacked by the group.

a lower ranked hero: blast-off, a hero with a rocket quirk, was murdered by said group, and his corpse was found in various places.

brutal. [name] thought.

"these villains aren't confident enough to attack higher ranked heroes such as mirko and i, they are currently planning on targeting another low-ranked hero on their route: genie." jeanist explained.

"what they don't know is that you will be waiting for them to attack genie, and step in as they reveal themselves. not even genie knows." an assistant added.

"wait, so they're basically bait?" [name] questioned.

"in a sense." jeanist replied. "if they knew, they'd likely act aloof and alert the villains. it's a necessary step."

"so, we set out tomorrow?" mirko questioned.

"no, you and i will go out patrolling the town discreetly. tomorrow we will go out accompanied by our interns, with my sidekicks on standby.

i understand you won't want your intern walking back to your arranged rooms alone, so after they go through some training here my assistant will make arrangements to take them."

"i'll go with them." katsuki finally spoke.

"it's settled then. mirko, please stay behind as we prepare for our afternoon scouting. dynamight, take flora to practice. do not push yourselves, understood?"

"understood." [name] replied, while bakugo grunted in agreement.

"dismissed."

everyone went their separate ways. [name] was doing her best to act causally as she and katsuki walked side by side to the practice room.

"so, uh.. nice weather huh?"

"why have you been ignoring me?"

crap.

"what do you mean katsuki? you're acting so crazy right now."

"no, i'm not. you didn't even try to talk about what happened yesterday with me, and then you randomly fucking call me at six in the goddamn morning. and i overhear some argument between you and that bugs bunny wannabe, just for you to decline on me, dick move by the way.

so, what's your deal?

you've been acting off around me since sunday."

he let out a scoff, and jokingly said

"what, you got a crush on me or something?"

"yes."

"what?"

both their eyes widened as the words left her mouth. crap, the whole operation was done for!

"was that a joke?"

"no."

she quickly located the practice room that was just around the corner, and tried to speed walk away.

"are you being serious right now? [name]? [name] we're training together you can't get away!"

she stumbled into the training room.

her life was over, but she still had to train, unless she really wanted her life to be over when she fought those guys tomorrow.

katsuki lightly grabbed her shoulder and made her face him.

"[name] fucking talk to me! stop being so shitty and confusing! why won't you just tell me the truth?!"

"because i'm scared of rejection!"

"i'd never-- i wouldn't reject you. just tell me the truth."

she sighed heavily. she didn't really process his last words, but she decided to tell him.

about the quirk at least.

"okay, so, sunday right? i took a hit for mirko-"

"you're insane."

"let me finish! i took a hit from mirko and got hit by this quirk. it basically makes you tell the truth whenever anyone asks a question, and it lasts a week."

"why didn't you tell me?"

"i was scared."

"who knows?"

"mirko, denki, kirishima, mina, momo, jiro--"

"so everyone except me, huh? damn. and the thing about your 'problems'?"

"a real bad lie from denki."

"so what you said earlie--"

"let's train. i don't want to answer any of that now. and, about what i said earlier..

can i talk to you about it after the mission?"

katsuki's face scrunched up. the emotion he was displaying was incoherent. disgust? anger? rejection?

but he understood her. he always seemed to. after a swift nod, he said

"fine. let's fucking fight though."

the tenseness between them disappeared, replaced by a competitive energy.

"you're on!"

they trained til' the sun went down. they were pretty even in quirk matches, but [name] definitely needed to practice her general strength.

still, in their last match she managed to pin him down.

"remember when we did this the first time?"

"shut up."

they agreed to stop for the day, and kept their wins in mind.

[name]- 8

katsuki-8

an even tie.

katsuki had opted to walk her home, so walk they did.

"if you're just gonna take a taxi back what was the point of walking me?"

"i just needed to talk to you, but we already talked it out earlier so it's fine i guess."

"oh. so, are you nervous for tomorrow?"

"nervous? why'd i be nervous? i'm destined to be number one, all these villains and missions and shit are just stepping stones to me."

"right, right. but they've killed like- pros. they hate heroes. and number one's like you."

"so?"

"so, they could be dangerous."

"i'll kill em' and i'll protect you, so don't worry."

she let a small smile escape her lips, why'd he always know what to say?

"thanks katsuki."

"yeah whatever. go inside loser, it's past my bedtime."

"okay, okay. text me when you get back."

"will you actually open it or leave me hanging like a dumbass?"

"i will, unless i fall asleep."

"fuck off. bye."

he got into a taxi back across town, she went into the hotel and felt butterflies settle in her stomach.

she knew the operation would take a complete one-eighy at the news from today, so to spare herself mostly, she texted that 'we should postpone the operation for today, i'm beat.'

everyone texted back their agreements, seems everyone was weak from the day.

she tucked into bed, and checked over her texts one last time.

katsuki had texted her.

allmightsolos01

yo

i got back to the agency

sleep well or whatever

read 10:37

flowered[name]

sleep well katsuki!

see you tomorroww

delivered

man this truth quirk stuff is so easy.

these last four days are just gonna be a blur.

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taglist (comment to be added!): @cc1306 @reads-stuff-quietly @dazqa

[horanghaejamjam]

Jigsaw - {CS}

↪   Summary: You are the lead detective in an investigation surrounding one of the most infamous killers the city has ever seen. Unfortunately for you, Jigsaw knows you're onto him and has played you like a game at every turn, threatening the case and your status. Your determination to catch him finally gets you a lead, only for you to find yourself tangled in a special trap that he designed just for you. Let the game begin.

↪ Pairings: Jigsaw Killer Choi San x Female Detective Reader

↪   Rating: M 18+

↪   Genre: Non-idol/Slasher/Horror movie au/ Suggestive / Fluff/Friends to enemies to lovers

↪   Word Count: 5.7k

↪ Warnings/Contents: References to classic horror movies, mainly Saw, Silence of the Lambs, and Scream. Mentions of death/murder/being shot (not detailed). Seonghwa and Mingi both make cameos in this story with a few other members being mentioned. Swearing and implied smut (MDNI). San being a teasing little shit, makeout sessions, fondling over clothes.

↪ Side Notes: To the wonderful @pinkywritings hi darling I was your assigned Ghost Writer for the @atinyhalloweenproject. This is my first time writing for San and I had a lot of fun with it so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it is so late I wanted to have it out by Halloween but due to the sudden weather change we haven't had power. I tried to make it longer to make up for that so hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and was worth the wait!

I honestly may do a part two to this or an expansion later on because I love the idea of Jigsaw San but we'll see.

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

“Police officials are seeking any leads in identifying the man known only to the public as the Jigsaw killer. He is believed to be linked in multiple disappearances and murders that have taken place around Seoul for the past three months. The victims were all found in various handmade traps and had a puzzle piece drawn somewhere visible on their body. At this time investigators have no leads and are asking the public for any knowledge they may have on this public threat.” 

The reporter's voice faded to nothing as the volume on the TV was lowered to zero. You groaned softly to yourself as you tossed the remote to the side, running your hands through your hair as you sat forward on your couch. It had been just over a month since you were assigned the Jigsaw murder case, the last detective backing out after the man in question threatened to target his family. The case was quickly transferred over to you, one of the best detectives in your field, but it was very quickly starting to test your patience. 

Whoever this Jigsaw was, he was a clever man. He left no trace, no evidence, nothing that would allow you to track him down. You went through surveillance, interviewed the family and friends of the victims, tried breaking down his traps for any clues, but any lead always led you right back to square one. You had tried to be patient, hoping that eventually he would slip up and give you something, but it was starting to sound like wishful thinking. Even worse, he knew who you were and started calling you out directly. You would find notes addressed to you, pictures, voice messages, all calling you out and taunting you. It was like he was playing some cruel game with you and you had no choice but to play along or risk losing everything. You couldn’t even walk to work anymore without some reporter chasing you down demanding an explanation or any evidence you had in the case. It came to a point where you only went to the office when called, and the rest of your work you did from home. 

Various evidence pictures and case files were thrown across your coffee table, a few rough notes scribbled in between. You had been looking at the same files for the past couple of hours, dissecting every last word to see if you had missed any connections. Your last victim had been found 72 hours ago, and you knew you only had a day at most before the next one. There were a few things you had discovered about Jigsaw, and the main one was that he worked on a schedule. Once someone was reported missing, it would be three days before their body turned up and the cycle would start again. Whoever this man was, he clearly enjoyed his patterns, and that is what you found yourself looking for, any pattern you may have missed. 

“Working from home again I see?” you practically jumped out of your skin as you heard the deep voice of your roommate behind you, turning around to see his tall frame leaning over the couch. 

“For Fucks sake Mingi you almost gave me a heart attack!” you whined, reaching up to lightly smack at him, “what are you doing here anyways I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” You and Mingi had been friends for as long as you could remember, having met back in high school and staying together through college and your time at the police academy. He was like a brother to you at this point and you trusted him so you didn’t mind if he saw your work, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to. Mingi always found your work to be fascinating and would bug you randomly about cases, which only grew more when you started investigating Jigsaw, though you assumed it was just because you got to bring your work home now. Just as you predicted, he made his way to the other side of the couch and took a seat next to you, picking up one of the crime scene photos to get a better look. 

“I was going to stay at Yunhos tonight but something came up and he had to cancel,” Mingi explained, running his thumb over the picture he was holding, “ouch this looks like it would have been painful, what is it?”

“That’s one of Jigsaw's latest traps,” you answered, snatching the photo away from him, “I’m looking through it to see if I can find any missing clues.” 

“Have you found anything?”

“Sadly no, he’s very good at covering his tracks. It’s been a month and we still don’t have any leads on this guy, it’s like he’s a ghost or something.” Mingi hummed softly as he continued to look through all the pictures, careful not to mess them up knowing you would yell at him if he did. 

“Now I’m no expert but, are you sure you’re only looking for one person?” he asked, catching you off guard. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all these crime scenes you’ve shown me have been pretty big and this says it only took three days, seems like a lot of work for one person if you ask me.” Mingi explained, “and that’s why your patterns wouldn’t line up like you want them to.” You blinked up at him dumbly for a moment as you processed his words, looking back down at the file you had basically memorized by this point. You didn’t want to admit it, but Mingi had a point. 

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea,” you muttered. 

“I can be helpful sometimes you know,” he bragged with a laugh, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t have time to retaliate though as you were packing up all of your things and rushing towards the door, “Wait where are you going?”

“I need to check on something, don’t wait up for me!” you called back, pulling on your coat and running out the door as he called after you. In your rush you hadn’t realized that you dropped part of your case file on your way out, nor did you notice Mingi pulling out his phone to call someone as he closed the door to your apartment.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

You made it to the crime scene in no time, an abandoned warehouse located just on the edge of the city. You parked your car a bit away and pulled out a flashlight as you made your way inside, ducking under the caution tape and pulling your jacket closer to yourself as you looked around. The clean up crew had gotten most of the scene cleaned by now, but the trap itself was still there. A weirdly broken mess of chains and blades that you wouldn’t have been able to put back together if you wanted to, making you wonder how Jigsaw even came up with the idea in the first place. You shook the thought out of your head and made your way to one of the blades, leaning down to inspect it carefully. It was sharp with a curve to it, but almost messy in design as if it was handmade. To test that theory you took a look at another one and noticed the same thing except this one was thicker and less curved despite being set up the same way. The chains themselves were also a bit sloppy when you looked at them closely, almost as if they had been done in a rush. It wasn’t as clean as Jigsaw's normal work, and now Mingis suggestion that you were dealing with more than one culprit seemed more plausible. 

You took your phone out to snap a picture just as the door to the warehouse opened, a new light pouring in and a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Over here!” you called back, flashing your light in his direction so he could see you. Quick footsteps made their way towards you before a familiar figure came into view. Park Seonghwa, a senior detective that had transferred over to your department a little over a year ago and assigned as your partner. You had been against the idea at first since your original partner had been killed only a few weeks prior during an investigation gone wrong. The chief had insisted it would be for the best though since you needed the help and Seonghwas cool and more collected nature would balance you out nicely which would prove to be true. Your impulsiveness had driven the older detective crazy a few times, but for the most part the two of you got along well and you could even consider him a friend. He was wearing a long black coat and matching gloves and his hair was long and falling into his face rather than slicked up like normal, probably because he had been at home resting when you called him. 

“Would you care to explain why you called me out here in the middle of the night when I haven’t heard from you in the last 48 hours?” Seonghwa questioned, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone. 

“I’ll make it up to you but I figured this couldn’t wait,” you muttered, going back to inspect the chain again, “I’m trying to prove a theory about something.” 

“That theory being?”

“What if Jigsaw isn't working alone?” you challenged, “what if it’s more than one person, that would explain why nothing lines up.” Seonghwas eyes widened a bit and you could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?” 

“Oh nothing,” he brushed you off, “what made you so convinced of this new theory? Did you find something?” You froze for a second, not wanting to expose yourself for letting a member of the general public view the case file. 

“Just a hunch,” you lied, “but I mean look at the way this trap was built, it's messy compared to the others, almost as if it was made by someone else.”

“Or maybe Jigsaw just ran out of time and rushed on it,” he argued. 

“Can you just humor me for five seconds Seonghwa,” you groaned, “maybe I’m wrong yes but isn’t it at least worth looking into?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes but gave in, walking to the other side of the trap to get a better look. You were too distracted by your own work to pay much attention to him, meticulously looking through every detail of the trap despite not actually knowing what you were looking for. Your instinct was telling you that there was something there you were overlooking, something that was hiding in plain sight, you just had to figure out what that was. 

“Hey Y/N,” Seonghwa called out after a few minutes, “I think I found something.” Your head shot up and you quickly dusted yourself off before making your way over. Seonghwa was standing in the corner of the warehouse holding what looked to be a tape recorder. “I found it tucked away over here, may have gotten knocked around during the investigation,” he explained. 

“Does it say anything?” you asked, taking the recorder from his hands and pressing the play button. There was only static for a moment before a robotic voice spoke up, like someone was speaking through a voice changer. Despite that, you couldn’t help but feel like the voice seemed familiar to you, but it was hard to tell through the editing. 

“Hello Detective Y/L/N,” the tape addressed you, sending a chill through your body, “these past few weeks you have been running around in circles trying to discover who I am. You have been closer to the truth than you realize but you always end up blindsided by your work and, as a result, you overlook the answer that is right in front of you. I have enjoyed silently watching you up until this point but now it is getting quite boring so why don’t we make this a bit more fun? Do you like games, detective? I hope you do because I want to play a game with you. I have left a riddle for you, the answer to which will tell you all you need to know about who I am and what I do. You have 48 hours to find the riddle and tell me the answer or you will find yourself and those closest to you in a very undesirable situation. The timer starts the second this recording ends, let’s hope you are as clever as everyone says you are. Let the game begin.” 

  You felt your blood run cold as the tape came to an end, barely registering Seonghwas hand on your shoulder as you tried to process everything you just heard. Seonghwa tried talking to you but you ignored him, pushing his hand off and rushing back to your car, your partner not far behind you. 

“Where are you going? We should report this to the office first!” he called after you. 

“What good is reporting it going to do? You heard him Hwa I have 48 hours to figure out who this guy is or we’re all screwed, I can’t waste time.”

“So what you’re going to rush into something and get yourself killed?” he argued. 

“Better than doing nothing and getting everyone else killed,” you snapped back, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find this riddle he’s talking about.” Seonghwa called after you again but by this point you had gotten in your car and were already making your way back to your apartment. Part of you felt like going home was a bad idea, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling you to go there. The same feeling of familiarity that you got hearing the tape returned, making you feel more and more uneasy as you pulled into your apartment complex. Like you knew who Jigsaw was and yet the image of his face was blurred any time you tried to imagine him.

Mingi didn’t seem to be home when you got back, his shoes were gone and the light was off. You couldn’t focus on that though, as your attention was drawn to the stack of papers placed neatly on your coffee table. You carefully walked over and looked through the pile, recognizing pictures from all the different crime scenes you had investigated so far, each one marked with red ink. 

‘Y/N, doesn’t this random pattern seem a bit too random?’

‘This is quite close to home don’t you think?’

‘The truth has been in front of you the whole time.’

‘Why do I do what I do?’

‘Did you miss me?’

You ran your hand through your hair as you continued looking through the pictures, realizing that the riddle was basically going to send you on a scavenger hunt. It would take forever for you to go back through each crime scene and look back through everything to find out what he was talking about. Even worse, it was pretty late and you could feel exhaustion slowly taking over you, slouching over the coffee table and eventually laying against it as you fell asleep trying to decipher the riddle. 

You were jolted awake by the sound of your phone vibrating, groaning softly as you sat up and reached into your pocket for the device. You half expected it to be a call from Mingi or Seonghwa, but instead you were greeted with the same robotic voice from the night before. Only this time, you were able to hear his actual voice a bit more and it was one you swore you had heard before. 

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty, I hope my riddle didn’t keep you up all night,” the voice immediately woke you up, straightening your posture as you looked around. 

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“Aww I’m almost offended you don’t remember me, we go way back you know,” the voice responded, “I’ve missed you Y/N, and even if you don’t remember me now I know you miss me too.” You paused for a moment at his words before realizing now was not the time to worry about that. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“That. my dear detective is for you to find out, you always did enjoy the thrill of a good challenge didn’t you? I figured you would have solved my puzzle by now but since I believe in giving people a fair chance I’ll give you another clue. One of those puzzle pieces doesn’t quite belong, once you find the answer I will be waiting for you in the place we last met, don’t keep me waiting Doll.” With that the call ended, causing you to groan in frustration and toss your phone to the side. 

“I’ve had about enough of these damn games,” you huffed, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You looked through the pictures again before one in particular caught your eye. It wasn’t one of the Jigsaw crime scenes, but instead it was a picture of an older house, one that you recognized from your last murder investigation with your old partner, San. The memories slowly came back to you and that’s when it finally clicked for you, the puzzle and the reason the voice sounded so familiar to you. That was impossible though, San was dead, you had been at the hospital with him when the doctors told you there was nothing they could do. There was no way that San was still alive, and yet you would recognize his voice anywhere. Shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and stood up, calling Seonghwa and telling him to meet you at the house in question as you left your apartment and got in your car. The whole ride there you tried ignoring the feeling of dread that came over you, hoping that your intuition was wrong. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

Seonghwa was already at the house before you got there, leaning against the wall with a blank expression. “I take it you found the answer to your riddle?” he asked as you walked past him, leading him inside. 

“As much as I hope I am wrong I think I did,” you confessed, “and if I’m right the clue we are looking for should be here somewhere.” Seonghwa stood still in the middle of the room as you frantically looked around, digging through his pocket and following your movements with his eyes. 

“This isn’t one of the crime scenes,” he pointed out, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Jigsaw said to find him at the place we last met and this place was the only one pictured that wasn’t one of the crime scenes,” you explained. Seonghwa hummed softly at your answer, but you ignored him as you continued looking around. 

“Why here then, what’s so special about this place?” you froze for a moment at the question, an action that didn’t go unnoticed. 

“This was the last place I investigated with my first partner,” you answered, “he was shot during the investigation and I thought he was dead but I’m starting to think I was wrong.” 

“You think it’s him,” Seonghwa stated rather than asked, to which you nodded. 

“I don’t know why he would do such a thing, but it all lines up.” Seonghwa sighed and glanced down at his watch before making his way towards you. 

“I’m surprised you know, you solved the riddle faster than we thought you would, we’re a bit ahead of schedule.” His words made your blood run cold, freezing as your head turned to look at him. 

“What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry about this Y/N,” Seonghwa apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe, “just know I don’t make the rules, I’m just the delivery guy.” Before you could react to his words he had grabbed you and injected you with what you assumed was some kind of anesthesia, your body going limp in his hold almost immediately and your vision going black. The last thing you remember hearing was his voice and footsteps approaching before you completely lost consciousness. 

When you returned to consciousness the first thing that you noticed was that you couldn’t move. Your arms and legs were handcuffed to a chair that also appeared to be bolted to the floor so you couldn’t tip it over. Tugging at your restraints, you glanced around to find that you were in some sort of workshop, various trap parts and gadgets tossed around multiple workbenches. At the front of the room were what appeared to be security monitors, each watching different parts of the city that you could just barely make out. 

“I have to hand it to you Y/N,” a voice said from behind you, “the last detective didn’t make it nearly as far.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the room before a figure appeared in your vision, wearing a full body red and black hood. Even though his face was covered by the hood, you could feel the presence of your former partner.

“How, I thought you were dead,” you whispered, not sure what to feel at the moment. In any other circumstance you would be over the moon to know he was alive, but how were you supposed to feel knowing he was the serial killer you had been anxiously tracking down. Shock, betrayal, anger, sadness, confusion, all of these emotions swirled through your brain like an endless whirlpool, pulling you in deeper and nearly bringing tears to your eyes. 

“Everyone did,” San replied, turning away from you to face one of his work benches, “the doctors said it was a miracle, that no one thought I would make it through the night let alone make a full recovery.” You could hear him messing with something, but couldn’t see what it was, struggling to look past his shoulder as he continued talking, “I tried to find you after you know? I thought you were the only one left that cared about me, and yet even you managed to turn your back on me.” 

“I always cared about you,” you argued, “that’s why I’m trying to understand why San, why did you do this?” It was at this point that he finally turned to face you, pulling the hood back so you could see him properly. He looked almost the same as you remembered, but there was a cold gaze in his eyes that almost made him feel like a stranger. This wasn’t the warm hearted and cheerful person you used to consider a friend, he was a killer. Despite this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from falling for his familiarity, almost as if you could convince yourself the old San was still in there, somewhere. 

“You never realize just how valuable life is until you are inches away from death,” he explained, “the adrenaline and the fight to survive, it almost feels like you are being reborn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how corrupt the world we live in truly is, because no one really knows how to appreciate the life they are given until it is nearly taken from them. You may not understand it now but trust me my methods will help make the world a better place.”

“You’re killing people because you want them to appreciate life?” you questioned, wondering if he was actually being serious. There was no way a person's mind could be that twisted, right? 

“You think I’m a killer?” San asked, not needing a verbal response since your glare was enough confirmation, “that’s where you’re wrong you know. I have not killed anyone, all of my games are survivable as long as the player has the will to fight for it. Those who failed the games basically killed themselves.” You wanted to argue that putting people in these death traps still made him a killer but he cut you off, “Seven people have won so far, seven people who had that will to live and had the chance to be reborn. They understand what it truly means to be alive and now they help me spread my message. You may not understand me now, but I really do hope that you will be the next.” 

“So what, am I the next person that gets to be put in one of your death traps then?” you groaned, tugging at your restraints. San pouted a bit but shook his head. 

“Your game began the minute you took the case from Detective Kim,” he explained, “you and I always seemed to have an understanding so I had hoped you would pick up on my clues and join without a fight, but you were far too stubborn to listen. Eventually I had to cut my losses so I had my apprentices plant fake evidence to finally get you here, it was the only way.” Your heart dropped a bit at the word apprentices, your mind immediately going back to Seonghwa and how he was the one who brought you here. 

“So you’re telling me the whole time,” you trailed off. 

“Seonghwa was working for me, yes, Mingi as well, they both survived my games and agreed to help with the cause and when you took over my case I knew I could use them to guide you in the right direction,” San explained. He took a moment to glance at a clock on the wall before sighing and making his way over to you. San rested his hands on the arms of the chair and used them to prop himself up so he was leaning over you, “As much as I have enjoyed our little chat I’m afraid we do not have much time. I really do like you Y/N so I will give you a choice. Join me and together we can help change the world for the better.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged. 

“Well then I guess we’ll have to play a game,” he hummed, leaning away from you, “The second I walk out of this room it will lock and a timer will start. Behind you are two doors, each with a different combination, one door will lead you to the exit, and the other will lead you to me. If you choose to leave then you will be free but you will lose your chance to catch me. If you choose to come after me, then you have a chance to learn the truth at the risk of your freedom. The combinations are hidden in this room and you will have exactly one hour to find them and leave through the door of your choosing, and trust me you don’t want to know what will happen if you run out of time.” San chuckled softly before pulling away and walking behind you, “This is your last chance to accept my offer Y/N, I would hate to lose you like this.” He waited for a moment but when you didn’t respond he sighed, “Very well, let the game begin.” You felt him place something into your hand, which you quickly realized was a key, before the door slammed shut and San was gone. 

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It didn’t take you long to unlock yourself, taking a second to rub your wrists as you stood up and made your way cautiously around the room. You did your best to stay calm and not look at the clock as you examined the doors and then looked around for the combinations, which you quickly realized were hidden on his tools. The question was, do you free yourself and turn your back on the case, or do you risk it all and try to go after San. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just get out of there and not look back, and yet you quickly found yourself moving on autopilot. Before you could really process what you were doing, you had entered the code for the door labeled “Truth” and ran through it, stepping into a dark hallway and letting the door lock behind you. 

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading forward, placing your hands against the walls to help feel your way through the space. All the doors were locked until you came to one at the very end that was cracked open, revealing what looked to be a makeshift office space, with nothing but a desk and filing cabinet in the room. You poked your head through first, looking around for any sign of life before slowly stepping inside and making your way to the desk, only to gasp as you felt another body pin you to it. 

“I knew you would come after me,” San whispered, spinning you around so that you were facing him. Your body was pressed between his and the desk, his arms caging you on either side as your eyes locked. 

“I can’t let you get away with this,” you argued, trying to wiggle away from him but San was stronger so he held you in place. 

“Come on Doll, you and I both know that’s not why you came after me,” he teased, “maybe it was at first but if that was the case now you would be fighting me harder.” He was right, even if he was stronger you knew you could at least hold your own enough to get him away or subdue him long enough to call for help. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually fight him off, struggling against him enough to save your pride but not enough to actually push him off. “So tell me,” San continued, “why did you really come after me, was it because you were curious about my work? Or, was it because deep down you missed me?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer, your body having reacted before your mind could catch up. 

“This isn’t right,” you argued, reaching your hands up to push at his shoulders. 

“And yet here we are,” he teased, backing up enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together and your arms instinctually made their way around his neck which made him chuckle. “I always knew you were special, you understood me in a way that no one else ever did. Stay with me, nothing will be able to come between us.” San leaned down until your lips were centimeters apart, his breath tickling your lips with every word. You tried not to give into him, knowing that this was wrong, but you also couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you just from being near him. You had always cared for San when you two were partners, hell there was even a time where you could argue that you did have a crush on him. That was back then however, when he was the sweet and easy going detective that decorated his desk with mini plushies and would whine if you forgot to get him a pastry on your morning coffee runs. This version of San wasn’t like that, even if the allure was still there, he was cold, twisted, and a killer. 

“I can’t do this,” you argued, “you’re not the man I once cared about.” You tried to turn your head away from him, but he gripped your chin to force you to look at him. 

“Yes I am, behind all of this it is still me and I can prove that to you,” he whispered, “just let me show you.” When you shook your head again he huffed, loosening his grip for a moment before it tightened again, “Fine then, how about another game?” 

“I already won your stupid game though!” you challenged. 

“Yet you still haven’t learned,” he fought back, “the least you can do is give me a chance to convince you. If you don’t give in then I will go with you to the station and turn myself in, but if I win then you quit being a detective for good and you stay with me.” You gave him a questioning look, at this point more than positive that he had gone insane. However, if playing his dumb games meant putting an end to Jigsaw, then you were more than willing to oblige. 

“Alright fine, deal,” you reluctantly agreed. You only had a moment to register Sans smirk before he was pulling you against him again and connecting your lips. One hand stayed pressed against your back to keep you against him, while the other tangled itself in your hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction out of you. The kiss wasn’t rough or forced like you had expected, instead it was gentle and passionate, like he wanted to take his time with you. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and you began to slowly melt against his movements. You kissed him back and allowed him to have more control, whining softly against his lips when he tugged a bit harder at your hair. Your own hands trailed down his body, tracing his shoulders and chest for a few moments before daring to go a bit lower. San groaned as he felt you palm him over his robe, tightening his grip on your hair and deepening the kiss as his own hand reached down to grab at your thighs and your ass. 

All your resolve melted away at his touch and you found yourself giving into him completely, relishing in the way he invaded your senses. All rationality had left completely, replaced with an unusual desire as San explored your body. As desperate as he was, his touches remained soft and left you craving more whenever he pulled his hand away. San walked you back until you reached the desk, lifting you up enough to sit you on top of it and slotting himself between your thighs as he finally pulled away. You only had a second to catch your breath before you were pushed back slightly and pinned down by your hands. San hovered above you with a knowing smirk, taking a moment to enjoy your flustered expression before leaning down to whisper directly in your ear. 

“Looks like I won. Game Over!” 

Ateez taglist: N/A

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[mxtantrights]

Boxer!Jay and having them meet the bat fam, maybe they're skeptical of them so Jay comforts/reassures them (it is obviously making them sad) eventually he expresses how important they are to him which leads them to getting to know them better (his s/o)

a/n: I really liked this request but in order to follow it this isn't connected to the other request where the reader already met Bruce and Dick.

boxer!Jason watched you leave the house with your head down and a bit of a pout. He hated it. He absolutely hated when people made you feel bad or less than. And he hates it that his family is the reason for your feeling that way.

So he does the only thing he can think of. He wrangles everyone into the foyer and tells them to sit down.

On the couch, is Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, Cass, Duke, and Steph. All the people he needed to voice his concerns to. Alfred had been charming and delightful to you since you arrived.

The whole family looks at him, wondering what he's doing.

"I'm gonna need all of you to get it together, because you made the love of my life feel bad tonight and I'm not gonna tolerate it. We have been together for a while now and I knew meeting all of you wouldn't be easy but it couldn't have gone worse." Jason says.

"Wait, Jay bird, you're being serious about this?" Dick asks.

"Of course I am, I have never brought someone home before! You all are gonna make me lose the love of my life." Jason answers.

"Okay that's the second time he's said 'love of my life' he's really serious." Steph says.

"Todd, why does it matter what we think?" Damian asks.

Jason scoffs, "because you're my family and I care about your opinions. But I'm telling you know I don't care for what went down tonight."

"You're acting like we went all ready or not." Tim says.

"You finally watched it? It was good wasn't it?" Duke asks Tim not he side.

The two are about to start their own conversation when Jason shushes them. They look at him, a bit amazed.

"When they're ready to meet you again, you all better pull it together. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with them." Jason says.

"Okay, Jason. We'll try better next time." Bruce says.

"Especially you, try not to scare them off from me." Jason adds on.

"Alright." Bruce answers.

"All of you, promise me right now, swear it." Jason says.

They all give some sort of a sigh or a tuft of air from their lips. And then they all promise to treat you better than they did tonight should the time come again. Jason dismisses them after that. All of them except Cass.

He tells her to hang back.

As the last person, Bruce, leaves the foyer, Jason looks at Cass with a smile on his face.

"You know I wasn't talking about you right? You were sweet tonight." Jason says.

Cass nods.

"And I give you permission to unnerve all of them with whatever you got in your arsenal if they do this again." Jason promises.

Cass holds out her pinkie finger for him to take. Jason takes it into his own.

"Okay, I'm out of here. Gotta head to their apartment and make it up to them with some snacks and horrible jokes." Jason says, mostly to himself, and to Cass.

Cass stops him before he can start walking and pull out an unopened bag of flaming hot chips. She offers it to him. Jason thanks her and ruffles her hair very quickly as he leaves to your place.

[noramoons]

what lies beneath | k.hj

pairing: kim hongjoong x g/n reader

genre: siren au, artist!reader

includes: angst, some fluff

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, slight horror themes, mentions/descriptions of food, Family Issues as a plot point (💀)

word count: 13.5k

summary: there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

You had been sure of several things before you spent the summer at the beach with your cousins.

One, that you were not an "outside" person. You couldn't stand fishing, you hated lying underneath the sun to tan—you could swim well enough, you supposed, to keep yourself afloat—but that was it.

Two, that there was nothing more embarrassing than being a tourist in a town you'd practically grown up in.

And three, that sea monsters of any kind were absolutely, completely, 100% fictional.

It was fun to pretend as a child, sure—you remember plenty of summers playing in the ocean with your friends, or listening to your uncle tell scary stories to you and your siblings about the creatures he'd seen in his time in the navy or deep-sea fishing—but that was it. Pretending. You knew that just as well as the rest of them did.

Which is why it's now somewhat embarrassing to be back here—spending yet another summer with your extended family, and now seeing your younger cousins now running up and down the side of your uncle's small pontoon boat. "Fish-man!" one of them cries out, pointing towards the water. "I saw it! I swear!"

The other one nods. "He was huge!"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel behind you. "I bet he was! I always heard they like to catch the sides of the waves the boats make for speed—can't get too close, though, or they'll get chomped by the propellers!" He makes a chomping gesture by opening and closing his fist, and your cousins giggle.

"You heard?" you ask, turning around from the seat near the bow. "I thought you always said you'd seen those fish-men with your own two eyes back in the day, Uncle."

He smirks at you. "Those were the deep-sea days. I've never seen any creatures this close to shore, but who knows?" he shrugs, winning at you. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Right. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you turn back around, the spray of the saltwater coming up on either side refreshing enough to distract you from the stories your cousins are now hurriedly making up behind you.

The rest of the day is decidedly less painful; your uncle is considerate enough to let you stay on the boat when he anchors it on a nearby island, so you're able to at least attempt relaxing while your cousins run amuck on the shore. By the time you're finally pulling back in to the dock behind your uncle's house on the bay, you can already see the hues of pink and orange growing in the sky as the sun begins its descent beneath the horizon.

Your cousins make a mad dash for the house once they're within leaping distance of the dock, and you let out an exasperated sigh when you realize it's just you and your uncle left on the boat. You know exactly what that means—all the work's been left to you.

He grins at you. "You remember how to tie her to the dock, don't you?" As if this hasn't been your job on-and-off for the last ten years.

You offer a faint smile in response, but you keep yourself from saying anything negative while you pull out the ropes from beneath the seats, tying them into the knots you know from memory around the poles on the dock. You don't want to complain in front of your uncle—he's never been anything less than kind to you, especially letting you stay at his house this summer out of nowhere when you told him you needed a place to stay for a while, even when it's been over five years since your last summer here. No questions asked, although you're sure he's curious.

You might tell him the truth. Eventually.

His voice suddenly interrupts the stream of thoughts in your mind. "If you've got it covered, I'm gonna head inside and start on dinner."

You nod absentmindedly, tucking the last rope into the beginning of its knot. "What are we eating?"

He smiles at you. "Guess you'd better hurry up and find out."

You roll your eyes at him, but in your sudden rush to finish the knot, you don't complete it nearly as tightly as you should—and you can already feel the boat drifting to one side from the loose knot.

You sigh at your own impatience, but you start the knot over again anyway, pulling on the other ropes to line the boat up with the side of the dock again before you start, checking the angle into the water to make sure it'll be as close to perfect as possible so you can hurry up and go inside, and it's then that you see it.

There's a face in the water—and it isn't yours.

No. You're seeing things. After a long day in the sun, you know it's not unheard of for your eyes to play tricks on you looking into the water. You draw your focus back to completing the knot, shaking the unusual thoughts out of your head of what you know you couldn't have possibly seen.

When the knot's finally complete, you cast your gaze into the water beside the boat one final time—and you realize, in stunned horror, that you'd been right before. There is a face, a face you can just barely see in the water as you peer over the edge of the dock—and it isn't your reflection. No, the angles of the jawline, the cheekbones, the chin are all far too sharp and precise to be yours. To be human.

He blinks up at you, far too innocently for someone—something that has been holding its breath underwater for at least the past five minutes.

You don't know how long the two of you stare at each other. It could be minutes, hours—you really aren't sure. You're finding yourself practically lost in the eyes of the being before you, dark and abysmal and inviting all at the same time—this, you imagine, must be what drowning feels like. Completely helpless.

It's then that you realize your ankles are touching the water. That's strange—you'd been sitting atop the dock just a moment ago. When did you get in the water?

You feel as if you've just awoken from a dream. You don't know how you've gotten here so suddenly, but you've definitely moved—you've turned around to face the dock, and your arms are the only thing keeping you above the water, your legs submerged up to your knees.

You quickly scramble back out of the water and heave your body back onto the dock, making sure all your limbs are still attached before staring back into the bay beneath you, looking for that face beneath the water again—but it's gone. Whatever it was has completely vanished, leaving nothing but the soft lapping of the waves against the shore in its wake.

Your mind races to find an explanation. You've been in the sun for hours. You must not have had much sleep last night. Your cousins are driving you insane and they've finally pushed you past the brink. One of those, surely, has to be the answer for whatever the hell you've just seen.

It's all you can think about during dinner—you hardly touch the clam chowder your uncle had prepared. He notices the small helping you've poured for yourself when you sit down at the table, and you see him frown out of the corner of your eye. "Feeling alright, Y/N?"

You nod quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine. Think I might've been out in the sun for too long today—I'll probably just get some water after dinner and head to bed."

He nods, visibly relaxing at your words. "Ah. That certainly can happen—I saw far too many colleagues faint back in the day after a long shift. It's brutal, that sun. That reminds me of one particular instance, actually—couldn't have been less than twenty years ago, I'll bet, when..."

He launches into another fishing anecdote, much to the delight of your cousins, while you continue to mentally spiral for the duration of dinner, locked in your own thoughts and what you know you couldn't have possibly seen. Your behavior, however, means your uncle doesn't mind at all when you go up to your room early—and when night finally falls and everyone else has gone to bed, no one notices you creeping back downstairs, either.

You have to know. You'll never be able to go to sleep tonight if you can't confirm whatever the hell you saw in the water earlier.

Your stomach interrupts your thoughts, piercing the quiet living room with an unfortunate grumble.

"Shit," you swear softly to yourself. You're hungry—it's no wonder. You barely ate dinner, and you only picked at a few snacks on the boat earlier. It certainly won't assuage your fears if you scare away whatever that thing was if your stomach growls the minute you step outside.

You quickly grab the first thing your eyes land on out of the first shelf in the refrigator—an apple, before finally striding over to the door and making your way back outside as quietly and nimbly as you can.

You practically run back to the edge of the dock, peering into the inky blackness of the water illuminated simply by the moonlight, only to find your own reflection staring back at you. There's nothing.

And you want to be reassured by that fact. You had to have been seeing things earlier, then—a result of the afternoon spent under the blistering sun, doing things to your eyes and your mind, and yet—

You have to check. You'll just dip a toe in, maybe—you're already barefoot, anyway. Nothing bites at your toe when you do, sitting down at the edge of the dock and letting the waves lap at your skin.

Well. You suppose to be really sure, you'll have to get in the water. It feels much better now than it did earlier today, you think as you lower yourself in up to your waist, still holding onto the dock with one hand, apple in the other. You don't remember the water ever feeling this good—this inviting. You wonder what it would feel like to go all the way up to your neck. Maybe even to go all the way underwater, to feel it enveloping every inch.

That last thought particularly entices you, so you let go of the dock, holding your hand (and the apple) above the water while you submerge the rest of your body beneath the waves. You wonder how long you can hold your breath underwater. Does it even matter, though? It wouldn't be so bad to stay here like this forever—

"...What is this?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by a muffled voice above you, piercing the silence and suddenly reminding you how long you've been underwater. Panic sets in almost immediately as you kick toward the surface, gasping for breath when your head breaches the waves again, breathing in sweet, fresh air as your arms attempt to tread water.

Well—arm. Singular. Someone else is holding on to your other arm, you realize far too late—the arm that's currently clutching that poor, stupid apple. A hand is wrapped around your wrist, and you feel dread sinking through your chest when your eyes follow the hand back to its owner. Perhaps that dread is why you aren't at all surprised when you once again lock eyes with the creature from earlier, this time his head and chest above water.

He looks at your sputtering form, unsurprised, before turning back to stare at the apple in your hand, head tilting to the side. "What is this?" you hear him repeat. His voice is incredibly raspy—as if he hasn't used it in years.

His lack of recognition towards you is almost irritating—as if he's disappointed that you exist. "...What?" you finally ask.

He brings another hand out of the water to tap at the apple. "This," he says. "I don't know what this is. Tell me."

You're still struggling for breath. "I...I'll tell you what it is if you let me back onto the dock."

He turns back to face you—quickly, head shifting far too quickly for something human. "No," he says, grip on your wrist unrelenting. "Tell me what it is."

Shit. "It's an apple," you say, frustration suddenly blooming in your chest. You're going to die because of an apple. Because you couldn't be bothered to eat your uncle's clam chowder for dinner. What the hell is wrong with you? If you ever get out of this, you swear on every god listening that you'll eat second helpings of every meal that man makes for the rest of your life. "You eat it."

Apparently you eat it to this creature means you can eat it—because he's lunging forward suddenly, bringing his teeth that look much more like that of a shark's than like the teeth in your own mouth onto the apple in your palm, tearing away a bite and swallowing it whole. God, you hope you aren't about to meet the same fate.

He makes a face, turning to look at you. "It's weird."

You heave a sigh. This is insane, you think. Maybe you really did lose your mind earlier on the boat—it's all your cousins' fault. Has to be. Hearing that constant, nonstop chatter about the overseas vacation they just went on (their third this year alone), and the toys the twins got for their birthdays, and the teacher at school they really don't like, has finally made you snap. "I don't know what to tell you," you say. "You said you'd never had it before. And you're stealing—I was going to eat that."

He lets go of your wrist from his damp grasp. "Hmm. You can have the rest of it, I guess."

He has let go of you. Every logical nerve in your body is screaming at you to start swimming, to pedal back up to the dock as fast as you can and scream for your uncle—but you don't. He let go of you. He had just wanted the apple.

You stare at him. You'd been right before—every feature of his is far too sharp to be human. The edge of his nose, the line of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones—everything except his eyes. They're dark, as dark as the night sky behind you, but they're soft. They hold none of the sharpness of what you can see of the rest of his body.

You think back to the beginning of the day—to the stories of the fish-men your uncle had tried to spook your cousins with as you drove around the inlet. Damn him to hell—he was right.

You aren't sure who you're angrier at—him, for being correct about something so utterly insane, or you, for not being smart enough to realize he was telling the truth.

The creature in the water notices you staring at him. He blinks at you, tilting his head to the side. His gaze hasn't left you for a single instant, but there's something else spreading across his face now, tugging up the side of his lips in a faint smile.

"You aren't afraid," he says now, the rasp in his voice gradually beginning to ebb away.

You notice him watching your arms treading water now, apple bobbing beside you, but you don't say anything about it. You also don't say anything about how he isn't treading water but is still staying perfectly afloat—something else is propelling him to stay upright. And you think you may have an idea of what it is. "I...I don't know. I don't think so," is the only thing you can offer in response. "I don't know what you are."

He thinks for a moment. "A...a siren was what your people called us the last time we went to the surface."

A siren. You'll admit you didn't always pay constant attention in school, especially reading the Odyssey nearly three years ago, but you have a clear enough recollection of what these creatures were. Their entire purpose was to lure sailors to their deaths with their charms, wrecking their ships with a few words of a song.

"We couldn't come up to the surface very often then," he adds thoughtfully, remembering. "Too much of that black smoke in the air. That's what my father said, anyway."

Black smoke? You're confused for a moment before it dawns on you—you distinctly remember your uncle telling you that the railroad used to lie almost perfectly adjacent to the bay his house now resides on, back in the day before they'd decided to reroute the tracks to make room for the neighborhoods they were building. And if the trains the siren in front of you remembers were still billowing out black smoke...

Christ, how old is he, anyway?

"I'm supposed to drown you," he says plainly.

You furrow your brow at him. "You can try, I guess. I used to be pretty good at swimming."

He laughs at that too. The sound of his laugh is unbearably musical—light and gentle and not at all comparable to the rasp his voice had been at first, nor is it fitting for a creature who had just said he was here to kill you. "I almost did. That's how you ended up in the water—don't you see?"

Oh. Fuck. He must have been in your head, practically—convincing you to get in the water. It's what'd he done earlier in the day too, you realize—when you'd gotten in all the way up to your ankles without realizing. "How...how'd you do that?"

He shrugs. "I just hum. Some of my brothers are good at singing, but I think humming does the same thing at a much quieter rate. Harder to get caught that way." 

"Does that happen to you often?" you ask. "Getting caught?"

He seems to ponder that for a moment. "No. I...I didn't have any plans on telling you this, but I've never actually drowned anyone before. You've been my first attempt."

You scoff at that. "I guess you're not a very good siren, then."

He stares at you, and you wonder for a split second if you've just made a fatal mistake by running your mouth, like you always do—but the edges of his lips quirk up in a strange smile. "That's not all we do, you know. We were the record-keepers of the ocean, back in the days before that fool Homer decided to only focus on our...occasional people-drowning habits. Once you become known for something, no one really cares what you used to do."

You blink at him. "Sorry, I...are you trying to make me feel bad for you? After you tried to drown me?"

His smile widens. "But I didn't drown you! I decided not to. Because I wanted to know what that was in your hand." He looks down at the apple bobbing in the water between the two of you. "Do you have anything else like this?"

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Why? Do you want to go through all the fruit in our fridge and take a single bite out of each one?"

He cocks his head slightly at you. "Why would I do that?"

Because it's what you just did, you want to yell at him—but you don't. Some semblance of common sense must be returning to you, now that you know you aren't in mortal danger.

He continues anyway. "I want to go back to our record-keeping ways. I like learning things. I've never spoken to a human before now—I've already learned so much. I know what an apple is. I know how easy it is to tell you to drown yourself."

You try to ignore the way your blood freezes cold for an instant at that last comment—and the way he gives you a knowing look after it leaves his lips. You think you may have a better understanding of what your situation is, now. "So you decided not to drown me because you wanted to know about the apple. You...you're only going to keep me alive if I keep bringing you things that you find interesting?"

But he shakes his head no. "You can go back up to the land now. I won't stop you. I was just suggesting that you'd think about doing me a favor, since I did one for you."

Deciding not to drown me isn't much of a favor—but you keep that to yourself. "You really wouldn't stop me if I went back up the dock? If I never set foot in the water again? Won't you...I don't know, get in trouble with the siren police or whoever you answer to?"

A bemused expression flashes across his face. "No, I don't answer to anyone. We used to travel in packs—and I think some still do, especially in the southern sects of the Pacific, but most of us are solitary, now. I do whatever I want."

“Must be nice," you reply before you can think to stop yourself.

He frowns a little at that. "What do you mean? You're the masters of the world as we know it, aren't you?" There may be a little edge of mocking at the end of that sentence, but neither of you comment on it.

Instead, you take one arm out of the water briefly to try to wave your words away, accidentally flicking a few drops of water on his face—but he doesn't even flinch. "Look—I shouldn't have said that,” you say.

"Who could possibly be telling you what to do?" he asks again. "I'm serious."

Now you do let a small laugh pass your lips. "You'd be surprised."

He just blinks. "Surprise me, then."

He did say he liked to learn. "Listen, I can't—" You cut off your own sentence when you see a light on the second story window flick on out of your peripheral vision. Shit. "I've got to go."

He casts his gaze upwards to the soft light emanating from the house. "I see," you hear him say as you plant your elbows on the edge of the dock, hauling your body back up to the wooden surface. Once you're out of the water, a sudden thought occurs to you—you never even asked the siren for his name.

Who cares? a voice in your head cries out. Your conscience, most likely—whatever scraps of common sense you have left. That thing was going to drown you. You don't need his name; you're never going to see him again.

Well—that you aren't entirely sure of, even if you may not be completely prepared to admit it. As much as you had apparently intrigued him, he had certainly kept your interest too. For crying out loud—he's a goddamn siren. How often did you get to have a sit-down conversation with a sea creature you had been perfectly convinced wasn't real an hour ago?

Even more intriguing, you think, was that air of freedom about him. I do whatever I want, he'd said. You can't imagine the last time anything like that left your mouth—or if anything like it ever had. You're drawn to that feeling of freedom—either out of jealousy or a desire to live vicariously through it, you aren't sure. But you do want to experience it again.

So you turn back around, the question of his name on the tip of your tongue—but it never gets any further. By the time you're looking back into the water below you, he's gone. Had you imagined the entire thing all along, you wonder for a brief instant?

But that thought shatters when you hear a splash to your right, at the very edge of the canal before it opens back up into the ocean, and you see the edge of a long, blue tail flicker in the moonlight before it disappears below the surface.

You let out a short laugh of disbelief at the sight. And the small smile that lingers on your lips—even as you hurry back towards the house, open the back door as quietly as possible, hurry back upstairs, throw your wet clothes in the bathroom, and jump back in your bed in a fresh pair of pajamas—doesn't fade away for quite some time.

Three days pass before you see him again.

You'd run out to the dock three nights in a row after everyone in the house had fallen asleep, peering into the water only to be met with the ripples of your own reflection staring back up at you. Disappointed, you had trudged back to the back porch and snuck back up to your room, lingering confusions about that damn siren swirling around in your head. You won't go check again tomorrow night. That entire meeting with him was apparently a one-time thing. It was a miracle that he'd let you live, anyway—a miracle that you aren't ever supposed to see again.

You still find yourself padding down to the dock on the fourth night—and this time, you aren't alone.

There's an apple sitting on the very last wooden plank on the end of the dock, water dripping off the edge and forming a small puddle around it. You almost let out a laugh at the sight, but it's swallowed by the yelp you accidentally let out when the siren's head emerges suddenly from beneath the surface. He stares at you, unblinking as he hauls his forearms onto the edge of the dock, propelling himself forward to look up at you.

"You're surprised," he says.

You take a breath to calm yourself before speaking. "You're observant."

He blinks once. Twice. "That's for you," he says, gesturing towards the singular fruit on the last plank of wood. "Since I ate the other one."

You look down at the apple, deciding you're safer not asking where he got this one—and then you look lower, peering down off the edge. The siren has pulled himself up to rest against the dock, which means he's only about halfway submerged into the water now. You see his arms, crossed on top of each other to support him resting on top of the dock. You see his chest, his abdomen, droplets of water still rolling down the toned muscles. And you swallow the gasp that threatens to escape you when you finally lock eyes on the dark blue tail that begins past his waist, swishing back and forth as it glistens with every beam of moonlight it reflects.

If he knows the cause of your sudden amazement, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he speaks again. "I wasn't sure if you'd be back."

You manage to pull your eyes back up towards his. "I, um...I realized I never got your name the other night. I figured you didn't just go by 'siren.'"

He smirks. "No, I don't. But I've never had to say it out loud before, like this." He thinks about it for a moment. "Hongjoong."

Hongjoong. "Hongjoong," you repeat. 

You aren't sure if it's the moonlight playing tricks on you, or if his cheeks really do twinge a shade pink at the repetition from your lips. "What's yours?"

Now it's your turn to smirk a little. "You won't, like...gain some kind of terrible power over me once you know my name, right?" You think you remember reading about the fae having that kind of ability in school, but that was ages ago. And at the time, you didn't think you'd ever need to remember information about creatures you were certain didn't exist.

The siren—Hongjoong—shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I can look into it in our historical records though, if you'd like."

You shake your head quickly. Probably better off not knowing.

But you do tell him your name, and he smiles too. "Pretty," he says, and you think you understand how someone like him could talk someone like you into walking off a boat—but the thought doesn't scare you the way it might have the other night. He's so beautiful, you're realizing—almost impossibly so. To hear him say he thinks you're pretty, or at least your name is, almost makes you want to laugh.

Hongjoong pulls you out of your thoughts when he taps the space on the dock next to the apple with one hand. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

Oh. "Oh!" you say, bending over to pick up the fruit. "Sure. Thank you for bringing this to me—" and then, before you can stop yourself from the most sudden and peculiar act of boldness in your entire life so far— "do you...I don't know, want anything in return for it?"

He seems taken aback by your proposition at first, but only a moment passes before that soft, self-assured grin appears across his features again. "What would you want to give me?"

Christ. Why did you say that? "Well—um..." You glance down at your shoes with wet sand still caked to the sides, the green charm on the end of one shoelace, the fraying ends of the jacket you'd hastily pulled over your shoulders before walking outside tonight, before you see—

You quickly work it off of your wrist and hand it over to him. "Here," you say, sitting down at the dock's edge and handing Hongjoong the bracelet you've been wearing since you came to your uncle's house this summer. "You can keep it."

Hongjoong takes the bracelet delicately from your outstretched hand. He peers at it in the moonlight. "What is it?"

"It's a bracelet," you explain. "You can just wear it on your wrist for decoration—it doesn't have to mean anything. This one, um...it was actually from my parents, but believe me—it doesn't mean anything," you finish, trying (and failing) not to let that all-too-familiar drip of malicious venom back into your voice at the mention of the people who raised you. Who bought you this bracelet—a week-late birthday gift from your mother who had missed it while she was on a 'girls trip' in Italy. And yet, you still turned out like this—

Hongjoong continues studying the bracelet, poring over each individual charm. If he notices your attitude about your parents, he doesn't say anything—but after that first conversation you'd had with him, you think he may understand what you mean anyway.

The silence is starting to make you drowsy, so you move to stand back up. "Look, Hongjoong, I'd better head back. It's late. Will I, um—" Why does he make you so nervous now? "Will I see—"

"What are you bringing next time?" Hongjoong interrupts.

You blink. "What?"

He taps the bracelet with one finger. "I'll bring something else the next time I see you, if you bring something too."

He had said he liked to learn. "Okay," you say. There's a sudden warmth in your chest at the thought of seeing him again, even despite the cool breeze suddenly drifting off from the sea. "When will you be back?"

Hongjoong tilts his head to one side, thinking. "The next half moon. It should be in a few nights. I'll need time to find something good for you," he says, grinning.

You can't fight the grin that tugs at your own lips. "I'll be here, then."

You think about how the first two weeks of your summer had dragged by. Every day had felt like an unending loop of babysitting your cousins while your uncle went to work, of making an effort to laugh at said uncle's intentionally not-funny jokes, of picking up groceries and running errands and getting lost in the monotony of the mundane—but the second half of your summer is the complete opposite.

Going out and meeting Hongjoong by the end of the dock goes from a once a week occurrence to a nightly routine. And it doesn't stop at just bringing each other different little trinkets and knick-knacks and snacks that you find—you and Hongjoong both discover that you're better conversationalists than you'd previously thought. The two of you find yourself talking for hours about anything you can think of; you learn that Hongjoong's family is several times larger than yours, and that sirens swim further south when the water gets cold in the winter ("the same as everything else in the sea with any sense," he points out). And you tell Hongjoong about you, about all the summers you spent here with your older siblings when you were all still children, about the nights you snuck out with them and went to the gas station for ice cream—both of you hanging on each other's every word.

You find yourself looking forward to seeing him all day. You're in far better spirits than you were at the beginning of the summer, your uncle teases on several occasions, but you can't find it in yourself to be bothered.

You probably could try to make it slightly less obvious, though. After nearly a month of spending almost all your nights with Hongjoong, you find yourself one midsummer day back on the pontoon boat with your cousins and uncle, looking for an island to go for a picnic on—just like you had been that day you'd first seen him. You still keep to yourself on the bow of the boat the same way you did at the beginning of the summer, but your thoughts are full of nothing but the siren, now. You'd found an unfinished scrapbook of you and your siblings from years ago in your uncle's garage last night, and you're practically beaming at the thought of showing it to Hongjoong tonight. You wonder if he'll be able to pick out which one is you in the photos if you don't tell him. Maybe you'll—

"There's something in the water!" one of your cousins cries out, pointing towards the right side of the boat.

You practically shoot out of your seat. "Where?" you ask, rushing over to her side of the boat.

She blinks up at you, caught off-guard by your sudden enthusiasm. "Um...right next to the boat." She points again with a shrug. "There was a face, but it's gone now. I swear I'm telling the truth."

You nod, giving her a knowing grin. "I believe you."

Her eyes widen, a smile growing across her own features. "You do?"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel of the boat behind you. "You mean your reflection, bub?"

Your cousin shakes her head quickly. "No, it wasn't. It was something else, I know it."

Your uncle looks back and forth between the two of you, landing his gaze firmly on you. "Well—if you see anything else, you just let me know. It's almost the end of the summer, you know," he points out. "I've kept you all under my watch this long—I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

The little girl next to you nods before going back to her seat with the rest of your cousins, but you stay planted at the side of the boat for a while with them.

It's almost the end of the summer, you know.

What's been wrong with you for the last several weeks? Befriending a siren, of all things—where did you think that was going to go? Did you think you'd get to pack him up in your suitcase with everything else and take him home? Stupid, you think—you've been completely, utterly stupid. It's the only explanation for it.

No—that isn't entirely true, either. You may have been foolish, thinking you could keep a friendship with a siren, but that wasn't the only place those feelings were coming from. You've been distracting yourself, you realize now. You're trying to run, still—from the very same thing that led you to stay with your uncle this summer for the first time in years.

Maybe you've had your fill of running. It may be time to try facing the thing you've been avoiding all summer before it's too late—which is how you find yourself alone in the kitchen later that night, holding on to your uncle's home phone with one hand while you read her number to yourself off of your own phone (you're fairly certain she won't answer if she recognizes your number on her caller ID).

You almost hesitate before punching in the last number to dial and sealing your fate, but your uncle's words float back to you again. It's almost the end of the summer. What do you have to lose now, anyway?

You finish dialing the number.

She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" She sounds slightly out of breath, as if she'd ran to catch the phone before it stopped ringing. The thought gives you a momentary sense of hope—maybe she won't hang up on you immediately once she realizes who's calling.

You take a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom," you say, slowly. "It's me."

She's silent for a long, long time—but she doesn't hang up. "...Oh," is the first thing your mother says. "I thought this was your uncle calling." You hear her take a breath, hesitating on saying what you know she's about to say. "I guess that's why you called from his phone, huh?"

You know there's no point answering that. "Mom, I...I wanted to talk to you, since the summer's almost over. I thought we could possibly talk about, um...about me staying at home for a little bit before school starts—or maybe coming home during winter break."

There's another long period of silence—and like the fool you are, you allow yourself to hope, for a brief moment, that she won't say exactly what you've known she was going to say the minute you dialed her number. "Hmm...no, Y/N, I don't really think that's a good idea." Your heart sinks, but she continues to push the dagger (that you practically handed her by making this call) further into your chest. "You know what—it's not really a good time right now, anyway. I'll talk to you some other time, alright?"

"Listen, Mom, I'm—"

Click.

She's hung up.

You told yourself earlier you wouldn't cry if she did this (you knew she was going to). And yet—you still can't fight those tears brimming at the edge of your eyelids, threatening to spill over. As you try to blink them away, your gaze is drawn towards the back window—towards the head of blue hair you can just barely see at the end of the dock, waiting expectantly for you already.

God. You cannot talk to Hongjoong right now—but you can't just blow him off entirely, either. You'll make something up, tell him you've gotten sick and can't see him for a few days, and hope he'll just forget about you and find some other human to trade apples for bracelets with.

You pad as quickly as you can down the end of the beach to the dock, peering over the edge to see Hongjoong's dark eyes looking up at you. "I can't talk tonight," you say sharply. "I'm sorry."

Hongjoong frowns. "What's wrong? Did you forget to bring something? It's okay, you know. I don't mind just talking to you. If you want."

Of course that's what he's concerned about. "No," you say, somewhat shakily. "I just can't, alright?"

You move to turn around, but the siren is a step ahead of you like always. He lunges forward onto the dock, grabbing ahold of your ankle with a strength you hadn't known he'd had. You think, for a moment, that if he had really wanted to drown you that day—he could have. "That's not good enough," he replies firmly, but his gaze softens the minute he sees your face closer. "I want to know what's wrong. Please."

It doesn't take much pleading from him for you to succumb to his wishes, so you relent, turning back around and sitting down on the edge of the dock. Hongjoong props himself up with his forearms before pushing the rest of his body up onto the dock, sitting upright and facing the sea beside you, just like you—something he's never done before. Only the last few scales on the edge of his tail just barely brush the water. "Tell me," he asks again, gentler this time.

So you do.

"It's my mother," you tell him, slowly. "Both my parents, really—they planned out me and my brothers' lives from the moment we were born. We were all supposed to be doctors, or lawyers, or scientists—something to make a ridiculous amount of money for them, just like they did for their parents. It was the only way to make them proud. They sent us to private schools and paid for expensive tutoring for years to ensure it, and they only spoke to us when we did well. They didn't want children—they wanted trophies. Things they could show off to their friends who were just as selfish and conceited as them. And they got them with my brothers—they did exactly what they were supposed to. Graduated law school or got their doctorates or PhDs, and now do nothing except work and get filthy rich. I'm the last one to fulfill what my parents had planned out for us. But I guess things don't always work out the way you planned," you add, somewhat bitterly.

Hongjoong keeps his gaze fixed on you. "No," he says, as gently as the water lapping at your ankles. "They don't. And...you don't want to do what they want you to."

You nod. "That's right. I don't. I think I should get a choice in what I make of my life, not slaving away forever at something someone else picked out for me. To do something of my own volition. And I told them so—and they told me I'd be on my own, forever, because of it."

"What do you want, then?" he asks.

You feel tears brushing against the edges of your eyelashes again. "It doesn't matter," you say, trying to keep your voice as steady as you can. "I'm screwed as it is. I have enough money saved for this semester of college, but they've cut me off entirely. I tried to call and make an attempt to patch things up tonight, but she wouldn't even listen to me. I'll be coming here every other semester to work, save up for the next semester, and stay with my uncle. I'm extremely grateful to at least have him on my side, to have someone who will allow me to stay with them—but I don't know if I'll ever get to see my parents or my brothers again. And I knew that would happen," you admit, voice definitely shaking now.

"I knew that was the choice I was making when I told them I didn't want to just be a stupid trophy for them to display, that I wanted to make something worthwhile, that I deemed worthwhile with my life. I knew it wouldn't be easy and that I was taking the harder route, but I thought I'd be able to just cut ties with them. Go no contact, and all that, but it...it's hard, Hongjoong," you tell him, tears rolling down your cheeks. "So fucking hard. And it's so stupid. Even after all this, after she's told me she doesn't want anything to do with me, now that I've chosen to 'waste my life away' and she 'doesn't know who I am anymore—' I still care what she thinks of me, for some stupid reason. She's still my mother—God, what am I supposed to do?"

Hongjoong turns to you almost instantly, cupping your face in both hands, and the sudden touch alone almost makes your tears stop falling. "Nothing stops the flow of the sea," he says, quietly. You want to move your gaze, to move your head away so your eyes aren't locked onto Hongjoong's so intensely, but he keeps you there anyway. "You just have to keep moving through it. With it. I think it's the same with your mother. It won't immediately be better tomorrow, just like how the sea isn't immediately perfectly calm after a typhoon—but it will be better, eventually. A little bit every day, as the waves return back to their normal rolling patterns."

"You don't think it's stupid?" you ask, quietly. "That I'm still so desperate to hold on to my mother, even if she's practically already thrown me away?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "Nonsensical, maybe. But not stupid. I don't think there's anything stupid about reaching out for someone who's taken care of you. My family has always been spread across the oceans—no matter where I go, it seems, I can find someone. I think it would be a much harder life if I was told none of them wanted to see me ever again. I'd feel stranded. And I haven't lived the same life as you, so I don't know what the exact circumstances are like, but I don't think it's a stupid aspiration. Just slightly nonsensical—but I think I'm realizing that a lot of things you do—that humans do," he corrects, "are that way."

That makes you laugh, even as his words settle into your ears and you begin to feel a kind of lightness in your chest. His world is so different from yours, you think. You're almost jealous of it, in a way.

And still, when he says things will be easier, eventually—you believe him.

"What is it that you want with your life?" he asks.

You laugh a little again. "It's cliché."

Hongjoong doesn't hesitate. "How would I know what your clichés are?" His hands are still firmly cupped against your cheeks.

Now the smile that ghosts across your face is real. Genuine. "Art," you say, quietly—as if you're afraid of admitting the truth even to him. "I love drawing—always have. It's all I've ever wanted to do. It used to be my escape when I came here in the summers with my family; I'd sneak away from everyone and paint on the beach for hours until my uncle would call for dinner. I begged for paint sets as a kid for birthday presents—even stole a set of charcoal pencils from the art room in middle school once. The teacher let me keep them even after finding out," you add, laughing a little. You bare your soul to Hongjoong, the parts of you that you've tried to squash for years but have failed to completely erase—like charcoal marks on a piece of paper that just won't quite go away.

He seems to ponder this for a moment. "Could you draw me?"

You laugh, feeling like a dam of relief is beginning to break within within you. He knows what has practically been your deepest, darkest secret for your entire life, and he doesn't want to shun you forever for it. "You know, I've always heard that's the one thing you aren't supposed to ask an artist."

Hongjoong blinks. "I didn't know that." There's only a single beat of silence before he asks, "Can you draw me anyway?"

"It won't be very good," you say with a shrug, smirk still tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I've never been very good at portraits. Landscapes and still life are easier for me."

He moves one hand to wrap around your wrist. "Try anyway."

The tenderness of the action coupled with his words—blunt as always, but reassuring in a way you've never known from him, never known from anyone—is enough to cause tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes again.

This time, Hongjoong notices, moving his free hand up your cheek to gently brush them away before they ever have a chance to cascade past your lashes. You see him sniff once, then look back up at you—realization dawning on his face.

"Salt," Hongjoong whispers in awe. "There's a piece of the sea in you, too."

That dam inside you breaks.

You meet his eyes, dark as the bottom of the ocean—feel the cool grip of his hand wrapped around your wrist and his fingers resting gently on your cheek, and you feel the pull towards him like the magnetism of the Earth's core.

When your lips land on his, it doesn't surprise either of you. It's a chaste, careful kiss at first. Hongjoong takes only a moment to breathe, forehead touching yours so lightly you almost wouldn't know he was there, before pulling you back to him and pressing his lips against yours again.

You've never experienced anything like it before—the tenderness of his hands on your skin, the softness of his lips on yours, his warm breath skating across your jaw. It's like he's everywhere, taking over every sensation—but not at all like that first time he had met you and influenced your thoughts. You feel fully in control right now. You're the one who's let him in.

If this is what drowning feels like, you think, you'd never complain.

You taste salt on your lips when you wake in the morning, and the sensation immediately sends a flurry of butterflies through your chest. A smile tugs at your mouth before you can even think to hide it from yourself.

Had last night even been real? Hongjoong reassuring you, kissing you so gently that you thought you might melt right into the water below the two of you—God, how could it not have been real? You could never have dreamed something like it.

If your uncle and cousins notice your uncharacteristically chipper mood at breakfast, a stark contrast to your melancholy behavior at dinner the night before, they don't say anything—but your uncle does look surprised when you offer to help load the cooler and towels onto the boat for the day.

"I've enjoyed having you here for the summer," your uncle tells you later that afternoon, when you've dropped anchor on a nearby island and your cousins are eating their lunches peacefully—the only time of the day you find that they're quiet. "Reminded me of the old days, with your brothers. It's been good to have you here."

You smile at him. "I've enjoyed being here," you admit, even if he doesn't know all the reasons why. "Thank you for letting me stay the summer. I really, um...really appreciate knowing there's someone who has my back."

His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. "Listen, Y/N. I know it's hasn't been easy after what happened with your mother—I don't know the whole story, but I'm not old and senile enough yet to not know something's up. But you'll always have a place to stay here. I want you to know that."

Your heart jumps. "Thank you, Uncle," you say. "You've always gone out of your way to make this feel like home for me, and you did the same when my brothers were here too. I can never thank you enough for that. And I—"

He just waves your words away. "That's what family does, you know? I've always felt like a bit of a black sheep living out here—compared to my sister, anyway. She always had big plans for all of you. But I've wanted this to feel like a good place for you, and your brothers, and now your cousins too—no matter what. Even when you all would sneak out for late-night gas station runs back in the day...or whatever it is you're doing now," your uncle adds, pointedly.

Your stomach twists. "I've...been taking moonlit strolls. It's helped me relax, with everything going on."

He doesn't seem convinced, however. "Honey...you know, you can always—"

But he's interrupted by one of your cousins shouting. "Jay won't give me the binoculars back!"

Your uncle frowns. "Jay, let your sister have a turn. Only fair, you know."

Jay crosses his arms, tucking the binoculars under one elbow. "No way! Every time Bianca uses these, she keeps telling me she sees somebody staring at her in the water."

Bianca scowls, lunging for him. "And I did! Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean I didn't."

Him.

After what your uncle had just said about your moonlit strolls, you restrain yourself from running over to the edge of the boat immediately like the other day—but your eyes still scan over the water ahead of you hurriedly.

You can see your uncle's gaze flicker back to you out of the corner of your eye, hesitating for a moment too long, before turning his attention back to the twins. "You guys have seen more stuff on the horizon in the past month than I saw in twenty years on the sea," he quips, forcing a tight laugh. "Might need to get you kids back to living in the city soon if you're seeing this many things in the water—not everyone's made for the sea life," he adds.

The knot of worry tightens itself a little tighter in your gut, and not for the last time this summer.

You still smuggle your sketchbook down to the pier once night falls, slipping out the back door with it tucked securely under your arm.

Hongjoong, of course, is waiting expectantly for you, peering up at you from the edge of the dock. "Is that for drawing?" he asks, and you can hear the twinge of excitement in his voice.

Your heart does a little backflip in your chest. "Yes," you admit, a little more sheepishly than you'd meant to. "Do you know how you want to pose for it?"

He thinks for a moment. "Can I sit up here with you? I want to be close to you for it."

Oh—now there are serious acrobatics going on within your chest. "Sure," you say, grinning as you sit on the far edge and watch him scoot up to sit beside you, leaning on the support beam at the very edge of the dock.

You gaze at him for a moment after flipping open your sketchbook and finding an empty page. His tail practically shines in the darkness around the two of you, moonlight reflecting off of each dark blue scale. His torso looks practically sculpted by the gods—arms and chest full of just as much unearthly beauty as his face, jawline sharper than the tip of the pencil you're sketching him with.

Not for the first time, you think to yourself how beautiful he is.

Hongjoong's cheeks turn the fairest shade of pink as you continue to stare at him, but he doesn't say a word as you begin your initial sketch. You find it slightly difficult to get the right shape of the tail flicking against the edge of the water beneath you. "Can I ask you a question?" you say instead, putting down your pencil for a moment.

Hongjoong blinks. "You've asked me questions for weeks, now."

You laugh. "This is a different one. I...I think one of my cousins saw something in the water today. When we were on my uncle's pontoon boat. Any chance you might know something about that?"

His cheeks turn pinker than before, but he doesn't flinch. "I suppose I might."

You can't bite back a grin. "Are you...following me, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong frowns a little. "I wouldn't call it that. I've...just been in the area. Keeping an eye on things. Not just you."

"Just at the same time as me."

"Right," he says, clearly relieved. "Exactly."

Your grin widens.

Hongjoong points at your sketchpad. "Are you finished with the drawing?"

You laugh a little, picking your pencil back up from beside you on the dock. "No, not even close. I've never drawn anything like you before—but I love a good challenge."

He seems somewhat pleased with this admission. "Will you show it to me once it's done?"

“Of course," you tell him, and he beams. That smile—God. You only hope you can put even a fraction of the way it makes you feel back onto the paper in your palms.

Your uncle corners you in the kitchen after breakfast the next morning. You feel yourself panicking inwardly at first, thinking he's going to continue pressing you on your "moonlit strolls" conversation from yesterday—but he just informs you that he's planning on a big seafood broil for dinner tomorrow night, as a send-off for the summer. And more importantly, he wants you to pick up a few pounds of shrimp from the seafood store in town today.

It's been a while since you ventured that far back into town—God, probably since the very first week of summer. And now your uncle is preparing a feast for the end of the season. You've never known time could pass you by this quickly.

That thought lingers as you ride your uncle's bike down the boardwalk and across the bridge, gradually making your way onto the mainland. You've put off thinking about what will happen once the summer comes to a close since that night you called your mother—but it's an inevitable fact that you'll have to leave, obviously sooner than you think. How can you even begin to bring that up to Hongjoong? Does he know, already, somehow? Will he be disappointed that he can't obtain any more knowledge from you and dip back into the sea, never to be seen again?

Your racing mind quiets somewhat when you realize you've made it to the seafood store—or shack, as it's always been affectionately known. You gaze for a moment at the neon sign outside, realizing that "THE CRAB SHACK" only has a few lights that actually work. "T E CR B S H  C K" is what the sign displays now. 

You remember that the lights didn't work when you were here years ago, either. The whole bottom row of neon was always out, meaning that the sign only read "T E CRB." You wonder if there's a meaning in that—that the sign was broken then and broken now, just showing it in different ways.

Or maybe it's just a neon sign for a seafood shack, and your suddenly gloomy mind is searching for meaning where there is none.

You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, park your bike, and make your way inside. The smell of seafood is nearly overpowering the minute you step through the door and doesn't fade for an instant, even after you've collected your pounds of shrimp in bags and make your way to the register in the very back. You wonder if the employee behind the counter even smells the seafood anymore, or if he's completely accustomed to it now.

He clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, God—how long have you been standing here? "Are you ready to check out?"

"Yes! Yes," you say hurriedly, laughing at yourself. "Sorry. In my own head this morning."

The cashier laughs good-naturedly in reply. "It happens." He looks down at the bags of shrimp after weighing and typing them in. "You visiting a friend here or something? That's quite a few pounds of shrimp—and I don't think I've seen you in here before."

You nod. "I'm staying with some family on the other side of the bridge. We're doing an end-of-summer broil tomorrow night."

He grins at you. "Can I come by if I only charge you for one of these?"

"If there's any leftovers," you reply coolly. "My cousins are pretty ravenous."

The cashier just laughs again, handing you the bags. "Fair enough. You have a good day, now."

"Same to you," you tell him absentmindedly—because you've noticed something in the open door behind the cashier. It's probably not meant to always be open, as it leads to a boardwalk out to the sea. Another Crab Shack employee is lining up a few crates of stock not yet loaded into the store. A couple canisters of fruit, three or four crates of sodas—and at the very end of the boardwalk, you think you might just see a head of blue hair peeking out of the water.

Shit.

You wonder as you quickly make your way out of the store, as you duck under the Sea You Later! sign at the exit, as you pedal the whole ride back over the bridge and back onto your uncle's property—a trick of the light, maybe? (When has that ever been the case this summer?) Will Hongjoong even say anything about it tonight, if it was him?

He does, of course. When evening falls and you make your way down to the dock, you haven't even taken your pencils out of your drawing bag before Hongjoong is pulling himself up beside you, gazing at you intently.

"What was so funny?" he asks, in a tone so innocent you almost think he's being genuine. "I want to know."

You make an exasperated face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hongjoong."

"The man in the store today," he answers plainly. "In the apron. You laughed at something he said."

"Nothing," you say. "I was being polite—I promise. He was the one trying to make jokes about inviting himself over. Not nearly as funny as he thought he was."

He isn't quite satisfied with that. "Did you know him before?"

"No," you tell him. "I was just in there getting shrimp for my uncle to cook tomorrow."

Hongjoong frowns. "I could've gotten you shrimp. There's plenty around that cove near the bridge."

You laugh. "I appreciate the offer—but where would I have told my uncle several pounds of live shrimp came from?"

He frowns, thinking for a moment. "The apron man wasn't too bright, I think," Hongjoong says. "I saw him come out onto the boardwalk not too long after you left—almost fell over trying to help the other apron man pick up those boxes."

His words hang in the air for a beat. Then two. "What would you have done if he had?" you ask, partially teasing and partially serious. "Drown him?"

Hongjoong ponders that. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"For what? Talking to me?" you ask, somewhat incredulously. "What were you doing watching me in the middle of the day, anyway? Just 'in the area' again?"

He crosses his arms indignantly. "I didn't plan to. I heard your laugh when I came up for air, so I wanted to know what was funny." He seems to pause on that for a moment. "You're almost a siren yourself, in that way."

Now that makes your heart stop—maybe more than he had intended it to. You have to hide the smile that threatens to creep up the edges of your mouth. "So you really aren't going to drown that poor cashier? Or me, for talking to him?" you ask,  still only partially teasingly.

Hongjoong's face softens slightly at that. "I don't think I ever really intended to. Not from the moment I saw you."

You wonder, for a split second, if he can hear your heart thundering in your chest—if he has any idea what kind of effect he has on you, siren abilities or not.

He seems to have an idea of your thoughts, either way—because he reaches for your hand, intertwining it with his. "I want to show you something."

You stare at him for an instant too long. "Where?" you ask, nervous laughter accidentally escaping you. "In the water?"

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Of course."

You give him a look. "Hongjoong—I don't know how far this is, but you know I'm not nearly as good at holding my breath as you are."

Hongjoong laughs a little at that—that bright, airy, musical laugh that almost instantly sets you at ease, reminding whatever sane parts of you are left that he's still a siren. "Don't worry," he says plainly. "I'll make sure you can breathe."

Just as always, there's no malice in his tone, no hint of a hidden plot behind his eyes, although you wonder if you would even know if there was, skillful siren that he is. Regardless, you squeeze his hand in yours and let him lead you off the dock and beneath the waves, taking one last gasping breath before your head slips underneath.

Hongjoong keeps your hand in his, tail swishing as he leads the two of you further beneath the surface—the scales across it continue to reflect moonlight as brightly as if you were still above the water, giving you just as much visibility in the dark water as if you had a flashlight with you.

What's a flashlight?

You nearly let out a yelp before you remember the two of you are underwater. That was Hongjoong's voice, no doubt about it—and it was in your head.

You can talk to me this way too, you know.

It's like he's invaded your head—his thoughts are suddenly yours. Can you always hear my thoughts? you wonder. If that's been the case all along—

But you can just barely see Hongjoong shake his head in front of you through the darkness. No, you hear him say. Only when we're here, like this. Do you need air?

God, you definitely, definitely do—the shock of Hongjoong's voice in your mind had completely distracted you for a brief moment from the lack of air in your lungs. It's nothing at all, though, compared to the shock you feel when Hongjoong cups your cheeks between his hands and presses his mouth to yours.

He's kissing you.

No—he's not, you realize suddenly. He's breathing into you, pushing air down your lungs and filling them up until you feel like you can breathe again, despite being completely submerged beneath the water.

Hongjoong pulls away after a moment. Good? he asks.

You nod—you're slightly embarrassed now, especially now that you know he could hear your confusion in your head.

And especially considering the smirk you can see on his lips right before he turns back around to push the two of you further through the water. He's well aware of the confusion he's caused.

Hongjoong only has to give you air two more times before you finally arrive at what he had wanted to show you—and it nearly takes your breath away once more.

It's a shipwreck. A massive one, sitting completely undisturbed at the bottom of the bay. The ship has three broken masts, some of the sails slightly submerged in the sand with several of the cannon openings peeking out at you, which you know can mean only one thing.

This ship is hundreds of years old. One that had clearly gone down in a fight.

Hongjoong beams at you taking in the scene. My cousins did this, you hear him say, and you nearly laugh at the clear pride in that declaration.

You think about your own cousins, playing pirates on the beach while they throw buckets of water at each other, stomping over sandcastles and leaving childlike destruction in their wake. Yeah? you finally ask. Sounds like something my cousins would do.

Hongjoong stares at you thoughtfully for a long time after that—you wonder, for a brief moment, if you shouldn't have compared your family to his in this way. You're just about to formulate a thought to apologize when you feel his lips on yours again, one hand on the back of your head while the other cups your cheek gently.

You stare at him, confused once more when he pulls back. I didn't need air, you tell him, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

He stares right back. I know.

Hongjoong waits to see the realization on your face before he touches you again, clasping your chin between two fingers gingerly. He's giving you a chance to push him away, if that's what you want.

It isn't.

You hold his face in your hands when you press your lips to his this time, and you can practically feel the relief emanating from him in your own mind. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as he can. Everything else—all your fearful thoughts about the end of the summer from today, your suspicions about your uncle, your constant stress about your mother—all fades away past the point of existence, and in that moment, there is nothing but you and Hongjoong at the bottom of the ocean.

"Sure you don't want to go out on the boat today?" your uncle asks the next morning. "It's your last chance for this summer."

But you shake your head again. "I got pretty sunburned across my back yesterday," you fib. "I'll watch the house here until you all get back. Do you need me to run any errands for you while you're gone?"

He doesn't quite stop himself from narrowing his eyes at you. You've been out in the sun enough times this summer that the half hour you spent in the backyard watching your cousins' impromptu performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream yesterday shouldn't have burned you at all. And you know he's fully aware of this. "...Don't know how many times I've told you kids to wear sunscreen," he says after a moment. "And reapply."

"I know," you wince. "I'm sorry. I'll put some lotion on it after breakfast."

"There's some in the closet upstairs with aloe," he informs you. "That usually speeds up the healing process for me."

"Good to know," you tell him. In truth, the only thing you plan to do while everyone is out of the house is work on your drawing of Hongjoong. You've solidified the outline, gone over it with an ink pen, but you're still trying to decide how to place the shading. You want to show the finished product to Hongjoong tonight—your last night of summer. You've put off that dreaded conversation with him until the very last minute—but you know you two will have to talk about what happens two nights from now when you're across the country, moving into your dorm room for your first night at college.

At least—you think you will be. There's a mad fantasy, of course, of staying here, of sneaking out to see Hongjoong every night for as long as you can, of running away with him somehow to some island where no one will ever bother the two of you—but it's just that, a fantasy, and you know it. Even if the entire summer has felt like a fantasy in its own way.

You don't know how that conversation will go tonight. But you want to at least be able to give this piece to him, regardless of what happens.

You're hunched over your sketchpad for hours, messing with the combination of paints for your watercolors until they're just right (or at least as satisfactory as you can get them). The scales on his tail are the hardest—you want so badly to show how ethereal they look with the moonlight reflecting off them, making him look like he's glowing from the waist down. You lay down a base color first and paint over it with different shades of blue and green, creating several different layers until you're pleased with the color's result.

Your work on the contours of his face and torso comes much easier, and the full painting is almost completely dry by the time you're heading back outside, moon high in the sky to greet you as you step onto the dock.

Hongjoong is waiting for you too, forearms resting at the edge of the pier. You roll the painting into a cylinder shape as you walk down to meet him, but you know he knows exactly what it is.

He grins. "I've been thinking about this all day," he admits, immediately, and you feel an entire enclosure of butterflies fluttering through your chest at the statement.

But you steel yourself. Take a breath. "Before I show it to you," you say, "I want to talk."

Hongjoong nods. "The end of the summer. Right?"

You raise one eyebrow at him. "How'd you know?"

"I heard you talking about it. With your uncle, that first time that your cousin spotted me from the boat." He grins a little at the recollection. "I heard him say there wasn't long until the end of summer, when you'd be leaving, so—I imagined this conversation would happen soon."

You exhale, slightly relieved. At least you wouldn't have to break the news of your sudden departure to him. "And how did you imagine this conversation?"

He takes a breath now. "I know I can't ask you to stay here. That's not fair to what you want—to the choices you've made with your own family for being able to make your own life. But I was thinking—"

"Y/N!" You hear a voice cry out from behind you.

You'd recognize the sound of your uncle anywhere—and you feel your blood practically freeze over in your veins. "Get back here. Now!"

You turn around quickly, trying to block the view of Hongjoong from your uncle—but it's too late. And as you turn to face him, you see that he's come prepared for this exact situation—a shotgun raised to his shoulder now, eyes peering down the barrel pointed at you, and a long fishing spear beside him on the dock.

"Uncle," you say, as calmly as you can. "Put that down. Please."

"Get back here, Y/N," he says, voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Get away from that thing right this minute and get out of my way."

You take a shaky breath. "Uncle, please let me explain. He's—"

"I know exactly what that is!" your uncle spits, pulling back the safety on the shotgun with a loud click. "A goddamn monster. You have no idea what those things do," he says, voice cracking. "I've seen men—good men, my friends taken from me, by its kind. Yanked right off our ship's railing and into their waiting mouths. It's nothing but a bloodthirsty animal that—"

"Stop!" you interrupt him with a shout, surprising yourself with the tenacity in your voice. You feel Hongjoong's hand wrap around your ankle, probably trying to tell you to stop—but you can't. You won't. "He's not a single thing like that. His name is Hongjoong. He's never even drowned anyone, let anyone killed and eaten anyone, Uncle. You have—"

"It's got you under it's spell," your uncle says, horrified. "Oh, my poor Y/N. I'll kill this nasty beast and free you from this trap."

You practically scream the next time you open your mouth. "No! You can't!" There's tears streaming down your face now, and the intensity of your emotions must be a surprise to your uncle, if the look of shock on his face is anything to go by. "Uncle—I'm begging you," you plead, sobbing. "I'll do anything. Please, please don't hurt him. He's my friend."

Something strange flickers over your uncle's features. He drops the barrel ever so slightly from being pointed at you. "Your friend, huh?"

You nod as you choke back another sob. "I love him." It's the first time you've admitted it—to yourself, let alone out loud—but you know it's the truth. Has been for longer than you've been aware, most likely.

That admission causes your uncle to drop the barrel entirely, holding the shotgun down in one hand and letting his other arm rest at his side. "My Y/N," he says, after a moment with a sigh.

"I've always wanted the best for you. I lived with your mother for eighteen years growing up, up until she met your father and had you and your brothers. I know how...how demanding she can be," he says with a laugh, one you don't reciprocate. "I know her tendencies all too well. She's my sister, and she'll always be my sister—but that doesn't mean I think she's a good person. I've tried to show you that there's a different path in life. That you don't have to do things her way. This...isn't what I thought you'd do," he says, laughing emptily again. "But I would never want to do anything that would hurt you on any level close to what I know she's caused you."

Your uncle swallows. Takes a breath. "I swore an oath," he says, steadier now. "In the navy. When I see anything like this, when any of us do—I'm honor-bound to report it. The local unit will be over here in under half an hour. Maybe even sooner."

You feel yourself holding your breath.

"So," he says, sighing as he meets your gaze down the dock. "You two...had just better not be here by the time they show up."

Before you can say anything in response—or perhaps before he can change his mind, your uncle turns on his heel and walks back towards the house.

You turn back around to face Hongjoong, sinking to your knees—and the minute you do, you feel tears streaming back down your face again.

He immediately pushes himself up onto the dock, grabbing hold of your face and brushing away the tears the instant they fall. "Y/N," he whispers. "You didn't have to do that. I...I love you. I would've gladly taken a bullet from your uncle if it meant you'd be safe."

Your eyes well with tears again, a shaky laugh leaving you. "Shit," you whisper back. "I don't—I don't know what to do, I just...just wanted to show you this stupid drawing," you say, laughing shakily. "And now I've ruined both of our lives. I'll never see you again."

"No. You haven't," Hongjoong says firmly, squeezing your cheeks in his hands.

You grab hold of his wrists. "Hongjoong—you have to get out of here. You...you said you have family everywhere, right? Go anywhere else. Please."

"No," Hongjoong says suddenly, straightening up the instant your hands wrap around his wrists.  "Where did you say that school you were going to for your art was?"

You tell him. "It's on the coast, but it's not nearly as close to the sea as we are here, I—"

He interrupts you again. "I'll find you."

You let out an unbelieving laugh. "Hongjoong, there's no way—"

"I'll find you," he repeats, hands still cupping your face firmly. "On the name of the full moon that night you found me—on that stupid apple that led me to you. I'll find you. And then, you can let me see that drawing."

He leans forward, his lips pressing against yours in a messy kiss—all teeth and salty tears and hands squeezing too tight, or maybe not tight enough—before he lets go of you, pushing himself off the dock and into the water. You see one flick of his tail before he descends deep beneath the surface, and it's not long at all as you sit there, chest heaving and cheeks stained, before the waves are gone and the sea stills, and it's like Hongjoong was never there at all.

Fall semester has left you busier than you could have ever dreamed. You've never done this many sketches in a week, never tried this many different techniques at once, never spent this many all-nighters on a single project—but you'd be lying if you said you weren't still enjoying every second of it.

Your job keeps you plenty busy, too—your roommate had been kind enough to put in a good word at the campus library and gotten you a job in the coffee shop on the first floor. You're taking as many shifts as you can, but the pay isn't bad, all things considered. You may not have to take a semester off after all.

But the diving club keeps you almost busier than both your work and assignments combined. You've already logged more hours than any of the other freshman, and some of the upperclassmen, too. If the club captain has noticed how you're always late packing up after a dive, she hasn't reprimanded you. Maybe she's noticed the unique shells you seem to always come back with, or the skip in your step as you pack up your scuba gear, rolling a shiny bracelet over your wrist—or maybe she's noticed something else, entirely.

After all—last summer, you had been so sure that there was nothing like Hongjoong living below the water's surface. Of course, that didn't mean other people didn't already believe otherwise.

a/n: happy holidays !! i hope everyone is staying warm and healthy and having a lovely week so far <3

and finally…this title escapes my wip list 😭 y’all. i have been working on this on and off since late 2021—sometimes you can have an idea, have absolutely no inspo to write past halfway through, and then write 5k in one night. 💀 no such thing as a perfect project ofc but i do hope you enjoyed this oneshot! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 🫶🫶 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore @fireheaurt

©️ noramoons 2021-2023. do not translate or reupload my writing.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Eight

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 2,969 (nice)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature language

Notes; Last chapter for the weekend, so I hope you all enjoy it! Also, the first of many Sylus-centric chapters. I'm a Rafayel girlie at heart, so it feels wrong to have so many Sylus focused chapters, but it feels like Sylus needs a lot of chapters since he has a lot of good scenes.

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Don't forget to check out my ideas for the future to see what other plans I have for this story and any future ones I plan to write! Also since I accidentally posted seven early, I might as well post eight early as well and then I'll do nine later on today as a treat! 🩷

The next time you wake up, you're in the back of a van with your hands tied together. Your head was pounding, your mouth felt drier than a desert and you could taste something metallic on your tongue. You really didn't even want to open your eyes because of the pain, but you do take a few mental notes. The smell of cheap leather and that the van was still moving, be it shaky and rickety. You're most likely on a dirt road or a road that hasn't been used in some while.

Even though the man threatened to inject you with the neurotoxin, you really thought he'd at least keep his word and not go through with it if you didn't fight, but it seems like he did anyway. Good thing you took the inhibitor Xavier gave you.

Even though it's dark inside the vehicle, you notice your jacket is off to the side but your watch and your guns are missing. Possibly in the vehicle somewhere. As you think of a way to get out of this mess, you notice the man is talking on the phone.

“I took a big risk snatching prey from the Nest. The reward needs to be better than that.” You try to look and see what the man looks like but he's wearing a black cap and a mask over his mouth, though you can at least see his hair. It's not white so he's not the man you're looking for.

You begin struggling with the binding on your arms, trying your best to make them even a little bit more loose.

“You sure this is right? I've driven down this same road three times. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear the man sigh before the van makes a noise. “Just my luck. The car broke down all the way out here..” He angrily opens his door to step outside before he opens the back of the van. “Get out. We'll wait here.” He grabs you by your restraints and pulls you out of the van. You take the chance to look around at your surroundings hoping to see anything familiar but it's dark out.

He all but throws you to the ground on your already injured knees and you hold back a hiss between your teeth. “Not a soul to be seen..Just an abandoned yard. Hurry up and send someone over.” The man was still on the phone.

You notice dead trees, a metal fence that seems to have been broken before, large boulders and rocks. This place seems more like a graveyard than anything. Your gaze turns to a dirty cobblestone structure nearby, you assume it used to be white but its more of a cream or light tan colour now.

“You're wide awake, huh. Guess you're a tough gal but I'm warning you, don't try any trick on me. You hear? I'm not against hurting a woman.” The man scoffs, clicking his tongue as he brandishes a pocket knife and taps it against his palm. “So you're just a middleman. Are you working for people in the N109 Zone?” You ask with a raised brow, putting on a tough act.

“Shut up. Let me inspect the goods before I hand you over.” His voice was cold as he points the knife at you. “Where did you hide the aether core?” You can't help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, finding it amusing that he's looking for something intangible. He'd have to cut it out if he really wanted to 'inspect the goods'. Though before you can say anything else, you hear another voice.

“Kidnapping Onychinus’ prey without letting us know..Wow, that's not exactly polite now, is it?” The disembodied voice sounded amused and taunting.

“Who's there?” Your masked kidnapper quickly pulls you to your feet, holding the pocket knife to your throat as he looks around. Seems like he's panicking. But Onychinus? Hmm…so it seems like they weren't the ones who kidnapped you.

“She's ours, by the way. We called dibs a long time ago.” and then, seemingly out of nowhere, the man's hand gets cut.

You flinch and the man drops you from the sudden pain in his hand. You fall to the ground once more, scowling at the pain in your legs before sitting down on the ground so as to not hurt your bloodied knees anymore. Maybe a skirt was a bad idea… You turn back to look over at your kidnapper who was now on the ground as well, holding his arm.

Your eyes widen as you notice two masked men appearing from red and black smoke. “I'm really curious..She's brave enough to drink from a black glass.” One of the newcomers twirls a knife around in his hand before resting his foot on your kidnapper's back. The other man starts walking toward you. “I wonder what will she do when backed into a corner?”

The masked man kicks your kidnapper to the side, taking a few steps toward you and that's when you notice they're both wearing a full black mask with a hooked beak. You can't see their eyes or anything. They have their hood up and it seems like there's tiny red horns on the top of the hood. “You're pretty bold for releasing information about the aether core in the Nest like that.” The one with a piercing through his left horn says and the other, who has one through his right, leans his whole upper body to the side. “Explains why boss is interested.”

“I see…So Sylus sent you.” The man on the ground laughs as he rises up to his knees. “But the aether core….is mine!” He suddenly pulls out a gun from behind his back and aims it directly at you before shooting.

The smell of gunpowder fills the air as you flinch back with your eyes closed. Though, you don't feel any pain. Instead, when you open your eyes, you see the man covered in a dark crimson and black mist. His actions constricted and the bullet, so close to your face, wrapped in the same mist before it disintegrated the bullet as if it were never there. The fog wraps around the man's hand, causing him to drop his gun before it swells up around him, wrapping around his neck and lifting him into the air. The mist swirls around him, almost seeming like it's working its way through his body until the man…explodes. Or at least that's what you think.

You see no blood, only the smoke slowly falling down toward the ground as if it's job is done. Then you notice that the two men in crow masks are walking away. It seems their part is done so that must mean…your gaze is brought back to the cobblestone structure, there's now a person standing on top of it with their thumb looped through their belt loop. The sound of a large bell chiming in front of a seemingly red moon.

You now realize your binds are undone, you could leave at any time but you're paralyzed with fear. You haven't been sure what to expect for awhile now and you honestly thought you'd be happy to see Sylus for the first time but, in fact, it's actually terrifying.

A crow caws, flying through the sky until landing on his shoulder as the man on top of the wall reabsorbs his energy with a stretched out hand. He then steps toward the edge of the wall and disappears in a swirl of that same coloured mist before appearing a few steps in front of you.

“Take out the vermin that are still running amok.” The white haired man says, his voice a deep timber that you'd usually be freaking out over but right now you're freaking out for an entirely different reason. The men in the crow masks echo a ‘yes sir’ as Sylus slowly walks up to you. Once he's in front of you, he tilts his head to the side with a scoff.

“You're…also here for the core, right?” You manage to say, trying your best not to look at him because he's hot, but also scary. He crouches down, leaning a bit forward as he says, “Even if you wanted to sell your soul, you still have to find someone who can pay the price.”

He reaches down to grab your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look at me.” His voice void of any emotion, even though his facial expression was rather soft. “You-” you flinch as his right eye begins to glow. Voices that you feel like shouldn't be here begin chanting in your head. “Devour him..” They echo. "Take the power.”

Your head begins to pound as blood rushes to it. You suddenly look down and your hands are bloody. “Take it…” “Just…kill him.” You want to hit your head, you want to tell yourself this isn't real because you know it isn't. You're confused and your head hurts and you try to look away from him, realizing something is wrong with his eye.

Your hand darts out to grab the dropped pocket knife and you find yourself cutting Sylus’ cheek, the black and red energy holding your wrist in place so you can't cause anymore damage.

He chuckles, amused by your actions. “Is this how you greet a new friend?” He swipes his thumb across his cheek, the wound disappearing as if it were never there. “I guess you don't remember anything.” He says as he brings his hand up to brush his knuckles against your cheek. “Allow me to jog your memory.” His hand goes further down before wrapping around your throat. That's when you begin to panic, grabbing his wrist with your free hand. “Let go of me.” But your attempts are weak at best.

With his hand around your throat, he makes you look back into his eyes. “From your past to your future…to even all of the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I… were the same. True kindred spirits.”

You've must've blacked out because the next time you come to you're on the ground. “Three days. Yet we're unable to achieve even a simple resonance. How disappointing.” You hear Sylus before you see him. Three days? How come you don't remember any of that? You wince and turn your head to look in his direction, noticing that he's sitting with his legs crossed on a plush red chair. It almost looks like a throne.

With a wave of his finger, his evol wraps around you and pulls you toward him. “What do you want?” You ask, exasperated and you're almost to the point of giving up. Especially when you don't know what'll happen next or even what path is the safe one. You tug at the energy wrapped around you but your hands go through it like smoke until you find yourself in Sylus’ lap. Now any other time, you'd be throwing a party about being in a hot man's lap but right now? You're not sure how to feel.

“You went through all that trouble to enter the N109 Zone. I must fulfill my duty as your host.” He says before he uses his evol to lift your arm up, his fingers dancing along the soft skin of your wrist before making their way to your tightly closed hand. His index finger trying to wiggle its way under your fingers before he adds a bit more pressure, using his evol to pry your hand open. His palm pressing flat against yours before he intertwines your fingers and pulls your connected hands to his chest. His eyes closing as he tries to force the resonance. “Stop-” you try to pull your hand away but his energy evol keeps your hand and your body where he wants it.

The voice in your head coming back to rear its ugly head. “Devour him…He's yours..” You get that, you get that he's hot and all, but do you really need to devour him? It's not like he's yours either- “He's right there..before your very eyes.” Damn okay voice, chill. Thirsty much? “His..” “eye..” the voice is cutting in and out, you can only hear a tad bit of what it's saying until the energy dissipates with a tiny flash of light. The resonance worked?

Sylus scoffs, looking at the light dancing across his hand, “It's a shame your evol has deteriorated into its current state.” You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself and you throw some bait out. “My family's deaths…You're behind them, right?” If he's a love interest, you know there's no way he is but you have to, at least, act that way to find answers. “Family?” Sylus chuckles to himself, “The people closest to you might be the ones who want to kill you the most.” Your brows furrow at that. Huh, that was a theory you never thought about. But who?

Wait, act angry. Right…uh say something, anything. “Shut up! Right now, I just…I just..” your head begins hurting again, “I just want to kill you myself!”

What? That's not what was meant by “say anything” but alright.

You flinch as soon as the words leave your mouth. You didn't mean to say that, did you? Though as you're unable to control your actions, Sylus catches your hand. “Do you think your evol will help you in a fight against me? Your courage is admirable.” He pushes your hand away with an unamused expression. “You're lucky I don't like picking on the weak, kitten.”

…what?

Before you have any time to dwell on what he just called you, he holds his hand out and uses his energy to pull something toward him. One of your guns lands in his hand. “What're you doing?” You ask, a bit nervous at the firearm held firmly in his grasp. He makes sure it's loaded, cocks it, and then holds the gun out to you. “Didn't you want my life? Or do your words just ring hollow?”

Ah shit, here come the voices again. “Kill him.” Wait, the voices didn't want you to fu- Nevermind that, you really don't want to grab the gun but it's out of your control. Your hand moves on its own, taking a hold of the gun and even your mouth moves on its own. “You think I won't do it?” You hold the gun up to his head, internally screaming and pleading to not let this happen because it would be a shame if you were the one to kill such a handsome man. “Now…that's much better. Though, you do owe me a curtain call grander than death itself,” Sylus muses, wrapping his fingers around the muzzle of your pistol as he slowly brings it lower and presses it against his chest as your hands shake.

“I..” “Why're you trembling? Has your resolve already begun to falter? You weren't just bluffing, were you?” He tilts his head to the side and you honestly want to yell at him and ask if he's crazy or thinks he has nine lives or something but you can't since whatever mysterious power you have inside of you is still controlling your movements. “No, of course not. It's just..” you trail off and he slowly moves his hand down to wrap around both of yours on the gun. “Want some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?”

He's so hot, he's so-

Bam.

You…you shot him? You actually shot him? Are you sure you won't regret this later? That's actually like crazy that you shot him just now. Well- it's not like you had any part in it. You couldn't control your actions to begin with..

Darkness.

Darkness is all you see. You felt so…hungry. So empty. Anything would be great to fill this emptiness you felt inside.

“Devour him..” Shit the voices were back. “Its…your power.” It was probably Sylus’ power, but pop off voice.

You weren't sure how long you had to endure the voices but they finally went silent. Leaving you in the dark, alone. It almost…felt cold.

The ending is a bit abrupt, so I'm going to apologize up front for that- I honestly didn't realize just how cut it was since it lines up pretty well with the next chapter. You'll have to wait to see that next week though, unless I end up feeling excited enough to post chapter nine early! 🤔 Either way, I hope you liked the comedic turn I took with the second half of the chapter. It was too good to pass up. Also, I tried something different with the paragraphs. I added double spaces between specific, important ones and just the standard singular with everything else. Let me know which you like between (between chapters 6-8 and I'll start doing them like that in the future!)

Anyway, if there's any spelling errors and stuff like that, then that's on me. I've re-read all of these chapters so many times and re-worked so much of it, but I'm bound to miss some errors so hopefully it's not too bad!

Taglist; @orphicmeliora

[vampykween]

Second Chances - we'll be alright

summary: your entire life changed the day Poppy Riley came into it, and all these years later you were still immensely grateful for how everything worked out. a/n: please please forgive me i know i haven't written part three yet but i swear it will come eventually. anyway enjoy this little glimpse into the future of this series! i promise this doesn't spoil the original timeline (second chances was always going to be a HEA) also this is barely edited I'm sorry oops! wc: 2.1K second chances masterlist

You remember what it was like being a teenager; you remember not wanting to hear anything your parents had to say, unfortunately, it never occurred to you what it would be like on the other side.

Poppy had come home furious, over what you’re not even sure about. She storms straight past you ignoring your ‘hello’ and stomps aggressively up the stairs rounding it all off by slamming her door. Your husband trails into the arms full of the groceries he was sent out to get, huffing loudly while dumping the bags onto the kitchen island.

“What’s going with the two of you today?” you question your husband while putting away the food for the week. Simon takes a deep, long breath and releases it slowly before responding, “She’s pissed at me because I caught her fuckin’ neckin’ some dodgy lad when I went to pick her up,” You can see it clear as day your husband is pissed – Poppy is fifteen years old, but sometimes he treats her like she’s still just a little girl. Suddenly you hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet barreling into the kitchen – your youngest, Iris, is beelining straight for her father.

“Hi daddy!” your toddler makes grabby hands at Simon, and he scoops her up immediately and smothers her with kisses. All these years later, and still seeing Simon fall into the role of loving father so easily turns your heart to mush.

 “Maybe let me go talk to her? I remember what it was like being fifteen, no girl wants her dad to talk to her about dating and boys.” Your husband sighs and pulls Iris tighter against his chest but nods reluctantly.

You knock softly on your teenager’s bedroom door - you’re hoping you can smooth the situation over – as much as Simon is upset about seeing his little girl growing up, he’s suffering even more knowing she’s upset at him.

“Go away!”

You disregard Poppy’s request, probably your first mistake, because you couldn't possibly fathom the conversation that would ensue.

You stick your head through the gap in the door, slowly pushing it all the way open. Making your way over to sit at the end of the bed, Poppy turns over and rolls her eyes at you. Okay, so that’s how this was going to be.

“Poppy, love, I just want to talk to you, your dad told me what happened earlier,” you try a gentle approach, mostly because you’re not even sure what you should say; you’re not mad at her, you just want her to be able to talk to you about these kinds of things.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she mumbles, then adds on “ya know you’re not even my real mum, I don’t want to talk to you about this.”

If your heart wasn’t pounding so ferociously in your ears, you would’ve been sure it stopped completely. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the walls seem to be closing in on you and so in the most composed manner you can manage you bolt out of her room and to the primary bedroom.

Simon is finishing putting away laundry when he sees you shoot straight through the door and dive under the covers, sobbing loudly.

“Love, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

You can’t seem to get a coherent thought out as you choke around sobs. Simon rubs your back soothingly until you’ve calmed down enough to speak.

“She hates me Simon, I- I don’t know what I did wrong, but she hates me!”

“Sweetheart I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, aren’t you always telling me that she's a teenager and that I shouldn’t take everything she says so personally,” Simon says hoping to ease your fears and heartache.

“Well, maybe I was wrong. Baby, she looked me in my eyes and said that ‘I’m not her real mom and that she doesn’t want to talk to me about things.”

The fingers running through your hair cease movement, and he looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“She said what?! You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, she can’t just say that to you.” Simon is seething, absolutely boiling over with anger. He loves his firstborn immensely - she’s his entire world, but sometimes she drove him up the fucking wall. It’s moments like these that make him wish he could turn back the clock, and shrink her back down into his baby girl - one that doesn't brush him off and snap at her mother and father all the time. On the short walk to her bedroom, Simon does his best to quell the frustration he has with her after making you cry. He doesn't care how upset he is with her, he never has and never will spew that anger onto her, or any of his girls. 

He knocks softly on Poppy’s door, although it’s performative really because he twists the knob and enters anyway. The teenage girl is balled up in a heap on her bed, back facing him, and if the situation was different he’d be laughing at how adorable she looked. He pauses his steps momentarily, seeing if she’ll tell him off too. When he’s met with continued silence, he strides over and parks himself on the edge of her bed. Simon takes in the sight of his daughter’s bedroom; there’s makeup littering her vanity, homework strewn across her desk, band posters and polaroids of her friends tacked up on the walls, and her bed holds a mountain of stuffed animals she’s accumulated over the years. Something akin to guilt stirs in him, maybe he was a little too hard on her. It’s not like one kiss makes her any different than the girl he knows she is. Poppy breaks him from his reverie when she sits up, still bundled in her blanket with tears in her eyes, and turns towards him.

“Are ya gonna sit there and stare at me all day or what?” Okay, maybe she was a little different than he remembered. She’s unfortunately caught his bad mouth and short temper. He brushes off her little quip and dives right into what he wants to say in the first place. 

“Ya want to be mad at me go ahead, but what you said to mum? That was cruel Poppy.” he serves her with a stern look and she knows she’s really in for it this time; no amount of puppy eyes would get her out of this. Poppy fidgets with the skin of her fingers, sighing loudly as she contemplates how to respond. She knows what she said was harsh, and if she could take it back she would. 

Sometimes she looks back on her life and is lucky her dad found someone who loved him and her wholly, but then sometimes she’s angry because why couldn't it have just been them two forever? Her dad was a lot more forgiving about things when she was his only little girl and now she’s got to be a good example for her two younger sisters thanks to you. The teenager doesn't even realize she’s crying until Simon is reaching across the bed to pull her into his arms, wiping at her tears like he always did when she was little. 

“I- I just wish i could do normal teenage things without you getting upset at me,” she choked out between cries. Her father’s heart breaks at her referring to him as ‘daddy’ because he couldn't remember the last time she did that, and it splits even further when he realizes he’s letting his fear of her growing up hinder their relationship. “You let Lily and Iris get away with so much, cause they’re little and I get it, but-” Poppy inhales shakily knowing her next words would cut him like a knife “-when it was just you, me, and mum you let me get away with things too.” 

The older man’s heart feels decimated. Has he been so much harder on Poppy recently? He’s embarrassed to admit he couldn't even recall because he’s been so busy wrangling toddlers all day. As much as he wants to tell her he doesn't want her snogging wannabe bad boys at school, he knows apologizing is the better course of action. 

“Petal, I know I was hard on you today, I can admit that. Do i like the idea of you kissing and dating and all that, absolutely fuckin’ not, but im sure you’ll do it anyway, so ill get over it.” Simon can see his daughter’s eyes light up at his words. “Aye I'm not saying come home with a boyfriend tomorrow, im saying im sorry, and i'll try to let you grow up even if i hate it.” The last word in Simon’s apology comes out airy as Poppy wraps her arms around him and squeezes tightly. 

“Thank you dad. I promise I won't do anything  crazy, at least not yet,” she teases him cheekily. He gives her a pointed look of ‘don't push it’ and plants a kiss on the top of her head. 

“I hate to ruin the good mood we’ve got, but you still need to apologize to your mum. She’s really torn up over what you said to her.” He hates that he’s dampening the mood, but as much as he loves his daughter, he’s not going to let her disrespect you. Poppy sighs sadly, untangles herself from her blankets, and makes way for your bedroom. When she turns back to gauge her father’s reaction, he motions for her to go on. 

Your head is pounding after the long cry session you’ve just finished having. You feel foolish for letting Poppy’s words get to you, she’s only a teenager after all. But having her pierce you right in your most sensitive spot hurt like hell. No matter how many years have passed, and how many hurdles you’ve jumped, there were always days when you remembered that you weren't Poppy’s biological mom. None of that made your family any less real, you knew that, but hearing her remind you of that truth was like a punch to the gut. You’re startled by the sound of the bedroom door creaking open, and your breath catches at the sight of your daughter peeking her head in. 

“Can I  come in please,” she questions with a slightly pleading tone. Poppy wasn't sure what she’d do if you said no.  It would be fair, but despite her words, every girl still needs their mom, chosen or not. You nod your head and motion for her to join you on the bed. Raising your arm, she slides into your side, head on your shoulder just like she used to always do growing up. Your heart clenched wistfully at the thought. You couldn't stay mad at her even if you tried, no matter how things came to be, Poppy would always be your little girl. After a pregnant moment of silence, she finally speaks in the quiet room. 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier, that wasn’t kind of me. You always have and will be my real mum, no matter what. You dont think I’m a bad person do you?” Your eyes are shining with tears as you look down at the teenager, how did you manage to raise such a wonderful fifteen-year-old? When you were fifteen you spent every waking moment walking on eggshells around your mother trying with all your might to not misstep in her minefield.  Fifteen year old you, laid awake and cried when you realized you were just like your mother and you were doomed to always bite the hands that fed you, that loved you. But here Poppy was, cuddled up in your bed, tear-stained face apologizing because she hurt you, and now you’re crying too because if only you were held like this by your mother growing up. 

“My little petal, of course, I don't think you’re a bad person. Even the kindest of people lash out at people when they’re hurt. There are going to be days when you probably can't even stand the sight of my face, but please know I will love you endlessly even then.” Poppy buries her face deeper into the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly, you can feel her tears staining your shirt, but you couldn't care less as yours fall freely down your face. She mumbles a soft “i love you” and you chuckle faintly and press a kiss to the crown of her head. There was never going to be a time when you didn't love Poppy Riley with everything in you, not when meeting that little girl all those years ago changed the course of your entire life for the better.

taglist: @darkravenqueen98 @jupiternighties @lunamoonbby @happy-mushrooms @yyiikes @liliumbosniacum @fluffymaxsworld @rockcollector3000

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // modern!Aegon II x Reader // Part 1

CW: afab reader, alcohol consumption, cheating (ex cheated on reader), attempted kidnapping (I guess???), profanity, eventual smut

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Aegon and Cregan have always been the best of friends, much to your dismay. You could handle them on their own, but together? Gods, no. It was bad enough when you'd hang out at Helaena’s place with Aegon hovering around. But when you would be there when Aegon and Cregan were there, it was a whole. Even Helaena’s little brother, Aemond, would have to leave the house. They were just so much to deal with and you had little to no patience for it. 

Aegon and Cregan together was basically their own frat party on the move. That's how loud and obnoxious they were. And just like any frat guy, they all wanted a high body count. So when Aegon decided to unceremoniously ask you out while you were hanging out with Helaena, it was no surprise. He caught you when you were alone in the living room of the apartment shared between the siblings while your friend was in the bathroom.

“Hey, babe,” he slurred his words and leaned against the wall next to you.

You looked him up and down, ignoring the name he called you.“You smell like beer and piss, Aegon.”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “The piss smell is also the beer.” He chuckled at himself and ran his hand through his hair. “I was meaning to ask you something.” He focused his eyes on you.

You nodded your head for him to continue.

“How about you and I go for a date?” He smiled.

You gave Aegon and sickly sweet smile and wrinkled your nose. “Thanks, but no thanks. You're not really my type and your Hel’s brother. A big no-go, really. Good shot, though.” You patted his arm and walked away towards Helaena who was calling you over.

As you walked away Cregan joined his friend’s side.

“Damn, that sucks, dude. I'd say go find another girl but this one would be a conquest.” Cregan said.

“And why would that be?” Aegon asked, his eyes never leaving your fading silhouette.

“Apparently she doesn't fuck anyone, at least not anymore. I heard that since she broke up with her ex she's declared some kind of celibacy. Like she'll only fuck if she gets in another serious relationship.” He rolled his eyes.

“So she's a sad prude?.”

“Not a prude, a challenge.” Cregan smirked.

“Come on, you have to go with us!” Helaena begged.

She, and your other best friend, Jace, were attempting to convince you to go to the frat party that night.

“We can hide you from Aeg, I promise. He doesn't have to be anywhere near you. We'll stay by your side, or at least I will. I know Jace has his eyes set on someone else,” Helaena sent Jace a teasing look. 

Jace blushed at the suggestion. Seeing him all flustered, you took the moment to switch the focus to him.

“Jace! You're looking at someone?” You asked.

Jace rubbed the back of his neck and refused to look up. “It's nothing, it's no one. Just a little crush, you know? Nothing is gonna happen so I'm not gonna try.”

“Well of course nothing is gonna happen if you don't try!” Helaena all but yelled at him.

“Tell me who it is? Please, Jacey?” You pulled out the nickname whenever you wanted something.

Jace rolled his eyes at the name and looked down at the ground.

“His name is Cregan,” he mumbled. 

Your eyes widened. “Cregan? Like Aegon’s best friend, Cregan?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Jace, I'm so excited for you!” Helena jumped up and down in excitement and smothered him in a hug. 

He awkwardly patted her back. “Th- thanks, Hel. But nothing is happening. We're not dating and he doesn't know I like him so…”

Helaena pulled away from the hug, moved her hands to his shoulders, and gripped him hard. “What matters is that you like someone and I'm gonna help you,” she grinned. “Well, I'm gonna help both of you. Yes, you too.” Helaena looked at you pointedly. 

“You, my dear friend,” she turned to you and gently cradled your face, “are gonna go to this party and I'm gonna find you someone.” She briefly pressed her forehead to yours. “After that last guy you deserve someone so much better.”

You pulled Helaena into a tight hug. “I know I do, Hel. Maybe,” you took a step back, “I'll go after Aegon.” 

Immediately the two of them froze. You looked at them in all seriousness before bursting into laughter.

“No, of course I'm not gonna go for Aegon. He would be a nightmare!”

“Just be careful if you do, alright? I'll still stick by your side the entire night.” Helaena reached out to hold your hands. “So you'll come with us?”

You smiled and shook your head. “Yes, Hel. You two broke me. I'll go tonight,” you smiled.

Little did they know, your eye has been on Aegon the last few months.

As the day went by you couldn't keep your ever growing nerves down. It's been forever since you last went to a party like this. Not since…him.

Jason Lannister. 

You met him at a frat party, very much like the one you were about to go to. It was there that he swept you off your feet, cornered you in a lust filled haze. 

You had had too much to drink that night, pushing your limits hard, but you couldn't stop yourself. Dancing with Helaena and Jace, taking shot after shot, grinding up against strangers who held you tight. It was the most fun you've had in months. 

When you got caught up with Jason you swore up and down it was true love. He just knew you. Yes, the first night was filled with passionate kisses and hot touches, but everything felt so natural after that. 

Jason was…protective of you to say the least. He always wanted to know where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing. He insisted he join you almost everywhere. 

“I just want to make sure you're safe,” he would say.

You would tell him that you're fine, that you were with Helaena and Jace, but at any mention of Jace his face would harden. He viewed Jace as competition for some reason. You told him time and time again that he was just a friend. Jason was content to believe that and keep his jealousy at bay. For a while.

His anger overflowed the night you came in drunk, leaning on a sober Jace while he helped you get to Jason’s apartment. While that particular night was blurry, you remembered the yelling and crashing of Jace getting thrown around by Jason. You could recall Jason threatening to kill him but even that was blurry. You tried to break up with him the next day but Jace convinced you not to, saying it was a one night mistake and that everything would be fine. 

That night should've been the breaking point but the one that completely broke you was walking in on Jason fucking Floris Baratheon. You came home after work one evening only to hear moaning coming from your room. You didn't want to believe that Jason could possibly sleep with someone else but the evidence was right there. Floris was being fucked into the mattress while Jason gripped her hips and pistoned into her. He was so lost in bliss that he didn't hear you slam the door as you left.

After Jason you swore off any kind of intimacy before or at the beginning of dating. You didn't want to get hurt. Not again.

Until a certain cocky blond caught your eye.

“Time to party!” Helaena screamed as she entered. “I'll be wearing this super cute baby blue crop top so you have to wear this deep green one!” She pulled out the top, perfectly your size as always. 

You hesitantly looked at your friend. “Hel, this shows a lot. I don't know if that's the vibe I want to have.”

“It's a frat party! I promised I won't leave your side, remember? Pinky swear!” She intertwined her pinky with yours.

“Okay, Hel,” you sighed. “Don't leave me.” You gave her pinky a squeeze before giving her a small smile then let go.

The crop top Helaena picked for you had flared long sleeves with an open back that tied in the front and came with a matching mini skirt. You let Helaena do your makeup, as she insisted she did, but you took control of your hair. 

“Look at us!” Helaena squealed. 

You had to admit that looking in the mirror, you and Helaena looked the perfect combination of cute and sexy. 

You smiled at your friend’s outburst and gave her a tight hug.

“Thank you, Hel, for getting me out. Just don't leave my side.”

“I won't.”

Just as the two of you were heading out of Helaena's apartment, Jace ran to you with a big grin.

“HEY, WHO'S READY TO GET WASTED!” 

You laughed and pulled him into a hug. “I'm not going to get wasted tonight but you do you.”

“But you're gonna party with us, right?”

“Do you not see this cute ass outfit I'm wearing?” You gestured to yourself. “Yes, I'm gonna party with you guys!”

“This night is gonna be fucking lit,” Jace said as he sandwiched himself between you and Helaena and swung his arms over both of you.

All together now, the three of you walked your way to the frat house.

Even from a distance you could hear the thumping bass and see the bright flashing lights from the house. You and your friends slowly made your way to the kitchen, not without squeezing through the dance floor. The scents of sweat and alcohol flowed from everywhere around you. Every other person bumping into you didn't help that much either. Being here was a lot but your promised your friends you would party with them.

Keeping your arm linked with Helaena, you were able to make a drink. Grabbing some fancy peach schnapps some brought and some orange juice you made a fuzzy navel for you and Hel. Jace didn't stay even for that, he grabbed his beer and went out to the dance floor. 

“Well that didn't last long,” you commented.

“Nope, but he's having fun and that’s what matters. Maybe he'll get lucky,” Helaena winked at you. 

She chugged her drink and tossed the solo cup into the trash before pulling you to her.

“Come dance with me! Let's get you to loosen up a bit!” She moved your hands back and forth in a lazy dance.

“Okay, okay, Hel. Let me finish my drink at least”

“Fine, but you take forever to finish.”

“If you really want to dance you can go ahead of me. I promise I'll be okay.”

“Are you sure? I said I wouldn't leave you.”

“You're not abandoning me, you're just doing your own thing for a bit while I drink,” you shrugged.

“Well,” Helaena drew out the word. “If you say so. I'll see you out there in a bit!” She popped a kiss on your cheek and was soon lost in the dance floor.

You chuckled and leaned against a wall, taking your time with your drink, when someone slid next to you. They smelled like sweet and alcohol but there was a faint whisper of cologne. Very faint but it was there. 

It was Aegon who was beside you but he didn't bring up any conversation. You hoped that he didn't even realize it was you next to him. The two of you stood there in somewhat of a silence; him yelling at an occasional friend of making trying some pick up line with whichever girl caught his eye.

“Glad to see you've moved on,” you told him after minutes of standing next to him.

“Oh, kitten, I could never move on,” he replied without looking at you. “Any other girl is just a distraction.” He finally looked your way and combed your body up and down.

You finished the rest of your drink, giving you that edge you needed that made you this gutsy.

“Maybe you don't have to distract yourself anymore, pretty boy. Maybe I do want you.” You stepped closer to him, smiling as you caught him stiffening up.

“I thought Helaena was gonna be your bodyguard. Where is she?”

“She's having her own fun,” you waved off the comment. “I told her that I wouldn't go near you but here we are. It's probably just the drink, though.” You stepped away from him and gave a small laugh. “You know, after Jason I told myself I wouldn't get involved with anyone else, including you, but - no, it's alcohol.”

“Don't stop there, keep going, kitten.”

Kitten gods it made your toes curl and your core tighten.

“How about you find me later? Helaena’s probably worried about me by now.”

“Okay, later then.” Aegon winked as he watched you disappear into the crowd.

The dance floor was filled with sweaty bodies grinding on each other. Grinding, bumping, accidentally smacking, there was everything. Of all the things at a frat party it was the dance floor that made you squirm. The horniness you could deflect pretty well but the thumping music and the crowd was too much. Eventually you found Helaena but she was preoccupied making out with someone, but you couldn't figure out who from the distance and lack of lighting. You smiled and walked away, figuring you'd leave and send a text to Hel and Jace that you got tired. On your way out you saw Jace with Cregan. Specifically you saw Cregan trapping Jace between him and a wall and some very intense talking going on. You continued on only to be stopped by the sensation of someone following you.

“Alreading heading out?” asked the voice.

“Yeah, not really my vibe,” you replied, taking in as much of your surroundings as possible.

“Why not come here, babe? You look like you could use some company.” 

The voice was slurring his words and it started to concern you. It was familiar but you brushed it off, blaming it on the alcohol.

 You refused to look behind at the person, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible. You could make a quick turn back to find Helaena and Jace back on the floor but you knew the possibility of finding them where they were was slim.

“No, I’m fine.” You were steady in your walk out the house.

“No, stay with me.” His hand turned you around and you found yourself face to face with him. Jason.

Your eyes widened in surprise but you were quick to take him all in. He had changed since the last time you saw him. After the break up you deleted and blocked him on every social media so you really had no idea how he looked until now.

You were able to calm your breathing. “Let go of me.”

“I messed up, babe. I know I fucked up.”

“Too late, Jason. Two years too late. Go find Floris, I don’t care.” You bit out the last words. As much as they were true they did hurt ever so slightly. You trusted Jason, you loved him at one point and he took all of that and threw it in your face.

“I don’t want her,” he took your hand. “I want you.”

You tried to pull your hand away but he only tightened his grip. “I don’t want you. Now let me go, Jason.”

His eyes locked on yours at the sound of his name and you swore you saw guilt but it was soon replaced by anger.

“I’m not letting you go. You are mine.” He yanked on your hand, pulling yourself to him.

“Jason, I swear to the gods i will fucking scream!”

“Go ahead, no one will hear you.”

You took a deep breath, ready  to scream at the top of your lungs when -

“Oi! Let go of my girl!”

You released your breath, never been so happy to hear Aegon.

Jason looked at you, his eyes red from both his anger and the alcohol.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with my girl, Jason?” Aegon called out.

Jason laughed. “Your girl? She’d never be with you.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong.”

Aegon made it over to your side in a few strides and took your hand. Surprisingly, Jason let go.

Aegon pulled you in close. “You okay, kitten?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” You rubbed the wrist that Jason was holding.

Aegon looked at you with concern before turning to Jason. “Stay the fuck away from her. She’s not yours, she’s mine. You had your chance with her and you fucked it up.” He let go of you to step closer to Jason. “Now get the fuck out of my party.”

Jason looked at you, torn between staying to fight and leaving out of exhaustion. 

You moved back to Aegon and took his hand. “Thank you, baby.” You kissed his cheek, hoping it would be the last straw for Jason.

“Fuck this shit,” Jason murmured. He quickly averted his eyes and left the party.

Aegon turned to you. “You okay?”

“Yeah - yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, Aegon.”

He patted your arm awkwardly. “Cool. I’ll, um, see you around.” 

Aegon nodded his head and began to walk away but you grabbed his hand before he could get too far. “Can you walk me back to the apartment?” You refused to look at him and stared at the ground instead. “I’m a little tipsy and I don’t feel like walking alone after what just happened.”

Aegon grinned. “A little tipsy you say? Who would’ve thought.” 

You simply looked at him with a bored expression.

“Yeah, I’ll walk you over, kitten. I’ve had a lot to drink but I can hold my alcohol, unlike Jason.”

“Thanks.” You gave him a shy smile. 

You and Aegon made your way out of the frat house, walking in a comfortable silence.

“Why did you stop him?” you blurted.

Aegon gave you a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why did you stop Jason? You could’ve let him take me wherever and not bothered yourself with it at all.”

“I stopped him because you’re my sister’s friend. You may not like me all that much but I’ll protect anyone who my sister cares about.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. 

The rest of the walk to the apartment was blanketed in a nice quiet. When you arrived at the front door you turned to Aegon. 

“Thank you, Aegon, for tonight. I’ll see you around?” You hoped you didn’t sound desperate.

“No problem, and yeah. I’ll see you.”

You began to close the door when his hand stopped it.

“Date?” He looked a little worried, almost surprised that he even said it.

You smiled and opened up the door again. “Since you’re not smashed right now, yeah, sure.”

“Cool, cool, cool.” He ran his hands through his hair.

You laughed at his nervousness and held your hand out for his phone. “I’ll give you my number and you can text me later, yeah?”

Aegon grabbed a hold of himself and handed you his phone. You quickly entered it and gave it back to him.

He gave you a wink, back at full swagger. “See you later, kitten.”

You closed the door, hoping he didn’t see you blush.

[lohotine]

Hello, I hope you are well, can I request headcanons enemies to lovers of Prune or Espresso with a gender neutral reader?

AN: Espresso is so fine ♥ 😍

I feel like Prune Juice is likely to act in very similar ways to Espresso in this

I actually think this idea is so cute, so I'll probably make a oneshot about it as well! Idk, we'll see.

Espresso x GN! Reader

Headcanons

Warnings: mild swearing

◇ As rivals ◇

You two have been academic rivals for a long time

Espresso is constantly competing to one-up you

You're the first person who's ever made him have to try

The both of you have been put into a group together one to many times

Espresso makes so many back-handed compliments

Always gives you the same shit-eating grin after each one

"It took you a while, but you're finally starting to get it-"

You bitch-slapped him after that, and he doesn't make them nearly as often.

You guys are normally near each other.

Always arguing, but that hasn't stopped students from suspecting... other things.

They compare you two to an old married couple often

Espresso and you agree on one thing, and it's to never become a couple.

On rare occasions, you two will talk over a cup of coffee about how everyone else in the school are idiots

He's a pretty good gossip buddy, which is one of the most bareable sides of him

You both actually understand each other pretty well

You're both looking for the others weakness

That's caused you to learn a lot more about each other than what you had initially hoped for

You hated to admit it, but Espresso was a pretty interesting person

You found yourself wanting his company more and more, which was odd.

Could it be... that you were infatuated with him?

In an attempt to woo him, you'd give him compliments and praise

In the beginning he'd just brush them off or scoff

Other times, his glasses would fog up and he'd go quiet

He didn't want to admit it, but your flowery tone when complimenting him made his heart flutter slightly

Perhaps he had also grown a small interest in you..

The rare gossip meet-up's became more and more common, and the topics would shift more from other people and their lives to just Espresso and you

Espresso was falling more and more for you by the second

The way you spoke to him, and understood him...

You may have fell first, but he fell so much harder.

Espresso eventually ended up folding and confessing to you

He'd suck a lot at it, actually.

Ended up slipping up some of his words and resulted to insulting you instead and with a rosey face

You got the memo and would smother him in kisses

His glasses fogged up again.

♡ As lovers ♡

Each morning, he makes you a cup of espresso and forces you to drink it with him

He'll catch you up on his latest research and so on

Really just uses it as an excuse to talk with you

He doesn't show it, but he's incredibly touch starved

Just wants to be around you

Random forehead kisses throughout the day

Does not matter if you're in public or not

He's really bad at getting enough sleep, though

You've had to beg him many nights to sleep with you

Doesn't listen the first few times because he's afraid he'll fall behind

In the back of his mind, he thinks you're only dating him because he's smart

Can't risk falling short of your expectations and thus your love

He doesn't even know what he'd do if you left him

You eventually convince him to get some rest

He passes out almost instantly.

Espresso is pretty tall, so I can see him putting things on the higher shelf purposely

Wants to hear you ask him for help

You just jump onto the counter and reach whatever you were looking for anyway.

He shouldn't have doubted your ingenuity

Very warm

Legit the perfect cuddle buddy

You fall asleep on him quiet often

He doesn't care, obviously

Overall, a pretty good bf.

[bbrissonn]

being in a long distance relationship with moldy and all he wants is a hug because he's just been feeling homesick recently so you go suprise him and he cries because he's just so relived to have his girl in his arms

long distance relationship trope hold such a special place in my heart-- warnings: couple of swear words, not proofread under the cut !

"i miss you." nick whispered as his eyes stared at the celling of the hotel room he was currently in, his phone resting against the side of his face. The team was currently in a road trip in madison, meaning he was even further from you than he already was in michigan.

you and nick had known each other since you were kid, but were never really friends until your senior year of high school. It was a weird start to your friendship considering nick had spent half the year in your hometown and the other in chicago. eventually, a year later, the boy asked you out when he came back from chicago. You were set to enter your second year of university and nick his first at michigan.

the distance was hard at first, considering the two of had barely even spent time together has a couple before he had to leave. but you made it work, calling each other whenever you could, always texting or sending snaps about your day to the other. you were all nick could talk about in michigan, it was constantly "y/n this, y/n that" and his teammates were growing tired of it.

Luca had been the one to reach out to you, asking if you would be down to come visit in michigan for a while. the two of you had spoken on a couple of occasions back home, followed each other on instagram, but other than knowing he played hockey and his brother was adam, you didn't know much about him. but once you and nick started dating, the two of you eventually started a friendship of your own.

"i miss you too, baby. we'll see each other soon, i promise." you whispered back. nick whined at your words, you had been saying those words for two months now and you two had yet to see each other.

"how soon?"

"i don't know, nicky. i've been really busy with school, but as soon as i can, i'll be driving down. i promise." you lied through your teeth. the truth was, you were heading down to michigan early the next morning, ready to welcome your boyfriend home when the team would fly back in the next morning.

luca had planned the whole thing out. he was gonna force your boyfriend over to his house, where you would be waiting in the living room after luca gave you the location of their spare key. everything was going to be perfect, nick would finally start talking about something other than you, and you'd both get to see each other again. it was a win for everyone.

only the next day when nick followed by a couple of the guys walked into luca's shared home with some of their teammates, the living room was empty. nick was set on just heading back to his dorm and sleeping their sweep off, but luca had forced him to come over, promising him a surprise.

"surprise my ass." nick mumbled as he started at the empty house. luca, along with the guys who were aware of what was supposed to happen, all looked at each other with wide eyes. the fantilli boy hadn't heard from you since you left that morning, but he didn't think much of it, telling himself you were busy driving. but now he was starting to get worried.

"uhm... gimme a minute, dude." the boy said before walking out of the house, calling your number right away.

"hi!" you answered, and right away luca could tell something was wrong.

"what's going on, y/n/n? where are you?"

"there was a slight problem at the border. but it's all good now, i'll be there in like twenty minutes."

"problem at the border?" luca asked, his voice filled with worry.

"it's nothing don't worry. i'm all good, entered the country legally. just a little more broken than before." you mumbled the last part, making luca let out a sigh.

"do i even wanna know?"

"no. listen, i'm almost there, okay? just keep nick busy, please."

"hurry."

"i will, i will!" you said before hanging up the phone and focusing back on the road, nervously biting your lip. when luca walked back into the house, all the guys were sitting on the couches, and their eyes immediately went to the fantilli boy.

"so, there was a slight... technical issue if you will. but, don't worry, your surprise is on the way." the defenseman explained with an awkward smile on his face.

"this better be good, bro." nick mumbled to himself before looking back at the TV screen, a random game playing. twenty minutes later on the dot, a loud knock echoed through the house, making all of the boys groan.

"moldy, you go!" luca urged, knowing it was you since you has just texted him you had arrived. the boy in question let out a groan at his request.

"it's your house, dude."

"it's your surprise so get up and open the damn door." he urged again, making nick roll his eyes. he looked down at his phone one last time, still not texts from you, and then got up with a sigh. nick wasn't sure what to expect when he opened the door, especially considering all the guys who were there were now standing behind him with smirks on their faces and their phones out. but he sure as hell didn't expect to be met with your sweet adorable face.

"hi, baby." you spoke with a wide grin as your eyes opened. nick's jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes lighting up as he briefly looked over at his best friend, who wore a proud smile. nick then waisted no time shoving himself into your arms, his face landing in your neck.

"hi." he whispered breathlessly, tickling your neck slightly making a giggle leave your mouth.

"surprise!"

"what the fuck." the boy gasped with a wide smile as the two of you pulled away, but kept your arms wrapped around the others.

"sorry 'm late. had a little problem at the border." you mumbled, nick pressing a deep kiss to your lips once you were done.

"you're here now, 'ts all that matters, baby."

"nicky, baby, are you cryin'?" you asked, giggling slightly as nick's head once again found it's way to your neck. he nodded slightly against your body as tears fell on your neck.

"'m so glad you're here, love."