#you really gotta try and find artists before you just kinda slap their work on your aesthetic blog | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moby-writing-and-stuff · 7 months ago

Text

Scavenging Gone Bad

“I’ve told you, Mike, I transferred the last bit of payment for the repairs before I left,” the ginger twenty-six-year-old said as he leaned back in the pilot’s chair, his eyes not leaving the window in front of him, as he saw other ships fly around him. His hands were resting lazily on the controls, ready to grab them at a moment's notice, but relaxed and willing to let the ship’s autopilot handle everything for now.

“Well, the mechanic keeps calling me about how we stiffed him, Keith” the synthesized voice of his partner came through the ship’s intercom, crackling a bit due to the distance between the ship and where the transmission was coming.

“Ha! If anything, he stiffed us” Keith Coolidge said with a chuckle as he moved around a bit in the chair to try and find the comfy spot “Pretty sure he charged me twice as much as he should have for the work he did on the ship”

“I keep telling you we need to buy a new hauler,” Mike said, and despite the lack of visual elements to the call, Keith knew his husband was rolling his eyes “People just don’t carry the parts for it anymore, so, of course, he charged extra”

“Yeah, I’d buy that if he actually replaced anything” Keith grumbled “I’m convinced he just slapped some hyper-glue and sealant tape on everything and called it a day… Plus you know that this old girl has things modern ships don’t.”

“I know, I know,” Mike said in a tone that made it clear it was a discussion the two have had many many times over. Keith chuckled, but before he could say anything else, the lights on the chair’s arm beeped and blinked blue.

“Ugh, gotta hand up,” Keith said as he sat up a bit straighter “Got an inspection…”

“Right, hope they’re not too rough on ya,” Mike said with sympathy clear in his voice “Love ya, talk later”

“Love you too,” Keith said with a smile as he hung up the communicator and let out a sigh “Righto… Time to talk to the asshats..” he mumbled as he tapped the blinking blue button.

“You are attempting to leave the Sovereign Territory of the Othrys system” came the automated voice of the Border Security “State your name, citizenship, and occupation”

“Keith Coolidge,” the ginger said in a flat tone “Citizen of Othrys, planet Kronos. Occupation is Scavanger.”

Keith had gone through this particular routine so much he could do it in his sleep. It was one of the costs of living in the Othrys System Republic, one of the most calm states in the galaxy. Through the past thousand years, humanity had left its cradle in the Solar System and spread outwards through the entire galaxy after the discovery of Tunnel FTL drive and never really looked back. Nowadays, humans were spread through the entire galaxy, settling and building up on every habitable planet they could find, and even those that weren’t in the case of particularly daring and crazy. And when enough planets shared some kind of culture or ideals they tended to unite into a Sovereign System, of which there were so many it got difficult to count and each was unique in its own way. Some horrible and some near utopian.

Really, living in Othrys wasn’t that bad, Keith knew that. Clean cities, fair laws, good standard of living. Kinda came with being known as the Cultural and Humanitarian Center of Humanity’s various states. Most people in Othrys studied to become great artists, musicians, medics, and scientists. Most people.

And Keith wasn’t most people.

“Accessing…” the computerized voice of Border Security said, “Please stand by for Organic Security Officer…”

“Of course…” Keith said with a sigh as the line went dead for a second, only to be picked up by a rather gruff and bored-sounding voice.

“So, you are heading out to pick through the bits, Scavver?” the officer said

“Yes,” Keith said, rolling his eyes “And I’ve got all my permits up to date and signed”

“Huh, sure. Just upload em” the guy said. Keith sighed and hit a few buttons on the ship’s console, uploading the forms to the guy’s ship. Scavengers, or Scavvers as most people called them, weren’t exactly the most popular vocations in the galaxy, especially in societies like Othrys that prided themselves on being highly educated, high-class society. And people who went into space to pick through old shipwrecks and old alien ruins for valuable salvage and old alien artifacts weren’t exactly high on that list.

“Right, everything seems to be in order,” the guy on the other said “Try not to trespass into Shiva Empire territory, we’ve gotten way too many idiots who decide to go and poke through their wrecks, and it’s always a headache.”

“No worries there,” Keith said with a shiver. The Shiva Empire was one of the biggest Sovereign Systems in the galaxy and one of the nastiest. A bunch of expansionists, military-obsessed nutters who were only not actively conquering everything because every other system put immense pressure on them. And they did not take kindly to people who trespassed in their space and they certainly didn’t appreciate scavvers looking for a payday. “I’m heading in the complete opposite direction from them”

“Good. Got enough headaches to deal with. Now move along, you making a line” the officer said as he cut the comms.

“Real friendly guy…” Keith mumbled as he grabbed the ship’s controls and activated the thrusters, flying forward and officially out of Othrys. He twisted and manipulated the controls a bit, flying the ship further out before bringing up the communicator and dialing his husband again.

“So, everything went fine then?” Mike asked as soon as the line connected

“Considering the fact you're talking to me and not a Security Officer who doesn't get enough personal time, yeah” Keith joked as he piloted the ship towards the minimum safe distance to FTL. “But anyways, was just giving you one more call before I tunnel into FTL and wanted to talk one last time. I have a good feeling about this tip, the guy seemed really convinced that Ghost Ship he stumbled across could be worth something.”

“Thanks, Kit” Mike said “Wish I was there with you”

“I know,” Keith said with a sad nod “Wish you were too, but honestly it's for the best you stay home.”

“Ke-”

“Mike, we’re not having this argument again and definitely not having it over a comm unit,” Keith said in a serious tone “You had a full-on panic attack last time, Mike. A really bad one.”

“It wasn’t that bad…” his partner said

“Mike, we had to turn around to leave and I damn near had to sedate you,” Keith said in the same serious tone. Keith usually scavenged with his partner, but a few years ago, Mike got caught in a collapsing tunnel that cost him his arm and legs. While he had gotten holographic prosthetics that pretty much allowed him the same functionality he had before, he was still working through the mental trauma he got as a result of it. Most of the time, it was something the two of them could work through, but the last time it had been a rather serious one, and now the ginger wasn’t taking any chances. “Plus, I paid for those sessions for you with Dr. Hypatia already. And you know she doesn't do refunds”

“Fine,” Mike said, the tone of his voice making it clear he was throwing up his arms in defeat which made the ginger pilot grin a little “Have a safe trip, Kit”

“Thanks, Mikey,” Keith said. The comm unit cut off a second later, and Keith typed in the coordinates of his destination.

Tunnel Drive…Online came the voice of the ship’s computer Drive warmed up…Coordinates accepted….Tunneling in 3…2…1…

Keith gripped the sides of the chair tightly as the entire ship lurched forward and blasted ahead, a rainbow of colors replacing the blackness of space as he entered the FTL tunnel. Keith kept a tight grip on the chair for a few minutes before letting go with a sigh and unbuckling himself.

“Right…inertia dampeners still holding…” Keith mumbled as he stood up and shook his head. “Computer, estimated time to arrival?”

Calculating….Estimated arrival time is…4 hours and 40 minutes

“Right… guess I better go get some shut-eye,” Keith said with a small yawn “Set alarm for 4 hours and thiry minutes” There was a small beep as the computer accepted the command. Keith yawned again and headed for the back of the ship to try and get some extra sleep before he got to the rather hard work of scavenging.

=============================================

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Keith grunted as he woke up, blinking and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as the dull sound of the alarm rang out. He hit the off-button on the panel next to his bunk as he sat up, but the beeping continued.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Oh come on…” he groaned as he gave the panel a smack and hit the button again, this time with more force behind it. A second later the beeping stopped, the only sound being the background hum of the Tunnel Drive. “Finally…” he said, rubbing his eyes as he stood up “Just one more thing in this tub that needs fixing I guess…”

The ginger scavenger yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stood up and stretched, his eyes traveling around the small quarters. The ship he and his husband owned wasn’t exactly what people would call a luxury vessel. Most people would charitably call it a ‘flying hunk of scrap metal’. It was old, around seventy years out of date and almost every piece in it just wasn’t available on the market anymore, making repairs a complete pain in the ass which often ended with jury-rigged repairs.

“One day we’ll be able to get a new ship…” Keith mumbled as he grabbed his boots and slipped them on with one hand and tapped the panel with the other. It beeped for a second and a small rectangular box dropped out, which he grabbed and jabbed into his neck. He shivered as a wave of energy rushed through his body and any sense of drowsiness evaporated from his body. “And someday we’ll get a ship with a coffee machine instead of using WakeUp Stims…” Keith mumbled as he chucked the now empty box into the garbage can in the corner of the room. Keith and his husband were always hard up on credits, mostly from where they lived. Living on Orthys was not cheap, even in the relatively less affluent area where the two had their apartment. Combine that with the fact the two needed to buy equipment for their scavving trips, repairs on the ship, and the day-to-day ways they needed to spend money, the two were not in any position to buy a new spaceship. Keith let out a small sigh as he stood up, grabbed his belt off the table next to the garbage can, and stepped out of the quarters, the door sliding shut behind him, leaving him back on the ship’s bridge, the never-ending rainbow of FTL blasting through the windows.

“Right, let’s take another look,” Keith said as he took a seat again, tapping the controls on the armrests. A second later, a hologram flickered in front of him, showing a map of the Milky Way Galaxy.

“Computer,” Keith said “Give me a description of the area.”

Accessing… the computer said as the map zoomed in on the area the ship was heading According to the Orthys’ galactic map, the territory is currently determined as ‘Non-Viable’

“Meaning its useless for colonization or industry” Keith mumbled

Correct. All terrestrial planets in the sector are too hostile for colonization. Gas and Ice Giants are considered unviable for fuel extraction due to isolation.

“So, it's the middle of bumfuck nowhere,” Keith said with a small smile. “Means no chance of anyone getting annoyed at me. Not counting the guys at the bar anyways” he turned back to the map “Give me Galactic Archeological records of the area. Who lived here?”

Accessing… the computer beeped as the map of the galaxy began to be separated into separate colors and names. Keith’s eyes washed over some of them as he waited for a response. The galaxy, as much as people could figure out, worked in a cycle of some kind. An alien species became advanced enough to spread out amongst the stars, they would expand, colonize, conquer, go to war, and then, eventually collapse. So far, archeologists have identified four previous alien civilizations that had expanded through the galaxy, with hints of there being even more in the distant past. While the idea of the cycle was something theologians and philosophers were fascinated by, for Keith it had a much simpler meaning.

Alien tech was worth a fuck-ton of credits to the right buyer, no matter what species it belonged to.

Results found. According to the Pan-Galactic Archeological Organization, this sector belonged to the Cok'ex species.

“Cok'ex?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow “Not familiar with those… Elaborate”

The Cok'ex were one of the smaller galactic communities, as far as current research shows. They are believed to resemble humanoids, with large horns on their heads. They were extremely advanced, with cybernetics and robotics being extensively used throughout their civilization, but no working examples of their technology have been recovered to date.

“Heh, well then that sounds perfect,” Keith said with a grin. A ghost ship in an area that barely any humans really cared about, but was once the territory of one of the most advanced extinct alien civs? That had the sound of a perfect payday to him. He tapped a few buttons and deactivated the hologram.

Warning. Arrival imminent. Brace for Tunnel-Exit

“Here we go,” Keith said with a grin as he grabbed the controls “Time to get rich!”

He grunted as he was jolted forward, the rainbow of colors evaporating back into the normal star-speckled blackness of space. He groaned a bit and shook his head as he started piloting the ship himself.

“Right time to get a look around…” the ginger mumbled as he tapped on the controls “Launch Scanners”

Understood the computer answered and a THUD rang out across the ship as the ship’s multi-directional scanners were launched.

“Okay, let’s take a look at what we’ve got here…” Keith mumbled as he tapped a few more buttons, a hologram of the system popped up in front of him. The scanners were designed to pinpoint the location of anything manufactured when scanning, so he just gave it a second as he stared at the holograms of the planets and the star of the system he was currently in. Then, a small red dot appeared on the hologram and a PING rang out through the ship’s speakers.

The ginger’s grin grew as he grabbed the controls and began to fly over to the coordinates the scanners had given him.

“Time for payday,” he said with a grin as he boosted the engines. =============================================

“Right…” Keith mumbled as he stood in the airlock, making sure he had all of his gear “Flashlight… check. Holo-armor… check… emergency blaster….” he tapped the side of his belt and let out a sigh “And this is why you do checks every time, Keith” he said as he reached over the to the small locker next to him and grabbed a small pistol. He tapped the top of it, and the square on top glowed bright green and hummed lightly “Right, blaster is charged in case of emergency…” he muttered as he slipped it into his holster and stepped closer to the airlock. “Computer, is the scan of the vessel complete?”

Yes the computer answered Scans show the vessel’s structure is intact but there is no breathable atmosphere within

“Right, breathing equipment then,” Keith said as he turned back to the locker and began fishing through it “Sealed environment or vacuum?”

Sealed and pressurized. Scans do not show any risk of structural weakness in the hull, so a breach is unlikely

“Huh, guess these guys built their things to last then,” Keith said as he grabbed a pair of goggles and a breathing mask, slipping both on. “Power readings?”

Minimal the computer said Archeological records show that Cok'ex vessels have extensive power storage, meant to keep a ship active for centuries. It is likely that backup reactors or capacitors are active on the ship but are disconnected.

“Hmm, that could be handy or dangerous,” Keith said, crossing his arms and then shrugging “Well that’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get to it.” he walked up to the door and activated the Airlock Cycle. A loud hiss rang out all around him as the door behind him that led back to his own ship slammed shut and sealed. A second later, the door in front of him opened with a slow his. Keith took a deep breath as the atmosphere of the ship rushed in, the mask converting the alien atmosphere to oxygen and nitrogen for him to breathe. He pulled out his flashlight and stepped out of the airlock and onto the alien ship proper.

The ship’s interior was big, clearly built for beings far taller than Keith could ever hope to be. He pointed his flashlight upwards and could see catwalks and doors leading to other areas of the ship. The walls and floors were made up of dark green metal with no sign of visible light fixtures on them, at least none that Keith could see. He took a deep breath and ventured deeper, the clacking on his boots on the metal floor echoing all around him. He shone his flashlight over everything, seeing if there was anything to grab.

“This ship is… surprisingly spartan…” he mumbled to himself. He couldn’t see any decorations, flourishes, or any real personality of any kind. The ship seemed to be built with utility as literally its only function. “These aliens must have been really boring to talk to…” he said, shaking his head and moving deeper into the ship, passing under the catwalks. As he walked, he felt his foot hit something. Out of reflex, he pulled out his blaster and pointed it at whatever he hit, alongside his flashlight. “What the…” he mumbled, slipping the blaster back into his holster and crouching down “Is that a glove?”

It was indeed a glove. A rather large one, made of what seemed to be hard black rubber with green lines. Frowning, Keith gave it a poke with his boots before reaching down and grabbing it. “Wow, this thing is surprisingly heavy for a glove” Keith mumbled as he held it in his hand “Weighs about as much as my blaster…” he pointed his flashlight to the inside and grinned as the light illuminated a maze of green circuits all through the inside of the glove. Almost every inch of the thing’s interior was covered in them. “Oh, you alone are gonna make this trip worthwhile. I can get tons of credits for alien computer parts!” Keith said with a grin as he patted it. He carefully slipped it onto a small loop on his belt and after securing it, kept going forwards.

“I might have just found a piece of power armor…” he said to himself, thinking out loud as he passed through an open door and into the ship’s darkened hallways. “If that’s the case, there’s probably even more in here somewhere, I doubt they just brought along one glove…If I can get an entire suit of the stuff, we’ll be set for years! Hell, if I do that, I could afford to come back with a full team and properly strip this thing! We’d be set for life after something like that!”

He was lost in his musings, so he didn’t notice where he was going until he ran smack into a large sealed door, making him almost fall on his ass.

“Gah..Shit, focus Keith” he mumbled, shaking his head “Don’t get lost in your head while scavving” he took a deep breath and looked around a bit.

The door was massive, almost twice as tall as him and like the rest of the ship, was made of dark green metal. Frowning, the ginger leaned closer and knocked on the door gently, listening to the sound to see how thick it was. “Well nuts…” he mumbled “I’m not cutting through that with my blaster…” he moved his flashlight over to the walls around the door, and smiled a little, seeing a small bulb next to it. “Right, the door is motion activated,” he said, reaching down with his free hand to tap the glove “So getting it open means turning the power back on… Or I could just go…” he glanced back at the way he came in, then down at the glove resting on his belt and smirked. “Yeah, I’m not leaving without a full suit of this stuff. Guess it's time to track down the backup generator.”

=============================================

Keith let out a contented sigh as he plugged a wire into another socket, smiling as he felt the hum of power moving through it.

“Perfect” he muttered “Just a few more and this thing will be done.” It hadn’t taken long to find the backup generator which was in the large room where he first entered, and even less to crack it open and start rewiring things as necessary. He held out his right hand, and a small hologram of an identical generator appeared out of a projector in his hand. It was an image of a Cok'ex’s generator from the museum back home, which had been jury-rigged to work. “Right, now all I need to do is….shift one more plug…” he mumbled, doing that with his free hand “and hit the reset button!” he jammed his thumb on the bright blue button next to the mess of wires spilling out of the generator.

The thing hummed and the wires began to glow bright neon green, power flowing through them. A few sparks blasted out the side of it, making the ginger scavver scramble back a bit out of reflex. A second later, the lights on the wall flickered and began to glow in different shades of green, and many parts that were pitch black began to turn on with alien characters.

“Perfect,” Keith said with a grin as he scrambled back to his feet and wiped the dust off his body. He turned around and headed back to the hallway he had been at before. He reached the door and grinned as he saw the bulb shining green “Heh, guess I can guess what this species’ favorite color is” he said, chuckling as he walked up the door. The light blinked blue and the door hissed open. “YES!” he cheered, dashing inside to see what exactly was his prize for this trip.

Inside was a series of tubes, six in total, two on each wall except the one with the door. Five of them were occupied, much to Keith’s joy. He walked up to the nearest one, a massive grin on his face as he looked through the transparent material.

Inside the five tubes were massive figures, almost three times as tall as Keith and built like professional bodybuilders. They seemed to be made of the same shiny, glossy material as the glove he had found earlier. They mostly resembled humans, except for their heads which more resembled a bull, with a snout and a pair of massive horns pointing out of the sides of their heads. There weren’t any visible eyes, but from the light reflecting off them, the ginger could tell that in place of eyes, there were screens.

“Five entire suits of Cok'ex’s gear…” Keith said with a huge grin on his face as he looked around. All five of the figures were identical, down to the smallest detail. He rested his hand on the barrier, thinking of how much these would be worth as soon as he got them out. “Now…where’s the release switch…” he mumbled to himself as he looked around, but couldn’t see anything. Each of the tubes was completely free of any sort of panel or interface, the only thing on them apart from the transparent material being a soft blue light at the base, similar to the one by the side of the door.

“Damn it…” Keith mumbled as he took a step back and looked around the entire room in more detail. Again he didn’t see any panel or form interface. All there was were some wires connecting the tubes to the ceiling “Great, controls are probably on the bridge or something…” he shook his head as he looked at the tube separating him from his prize “Why would you put the controls to the armory on the bridge? That just seems needlessly complicated…” he tapped the transparent material, frowning a bit as he heard the ‘thunk’ echo out across the empty room. “Hmm…I might just be able to cut through this….”

He pulled his blaster out of its holster, aiming it at the tube, and pulled the trigger. A loud hum rang out from the weapon as a bright green beam blasted out of the barrel, sparks flying out as it began to slowly cut through the material in front of him.

“Right…” he mumbled as he increased the power output, the beam shifting to red as the heat increased “There we go…. Just a bit long- GYAH!” Keith’s words were interrupted as he felt something cold and metal wrapping itself around his arm. A second later, he felt another one attach to his other arm, the sudden tightness around his wrist making him drop his blaster “W-What the hell!?” he shouted, looking down at his arms, going pale as he saw that it was two metal cables with green glowing lines on them, much like the rest of the tech around him. He looked behind him, his eyes going wide as he saw that the empty tube had hissed open, and the cables had come out from it. Around it, bright orange lights were flashing and a very soft, almost unhearable buzz was ringing out of the walls. “S-Shit…” the ginger mumbled as he saw the back of the tube opening up and more cables shot out towards him. Two wrapped themselves around his ankles, tightening around so much he wouldn’t be able to wiggle free at all. The scavenger barely had time to react as the cables retracted, dragging him into the tube

“GAH!” he grunted as his back slammed into the wall, the tube closing with a hiss around him. “W-What’s going…”

Aoinga gadlea Mandgayu a voice intoned in an alien tongue that Keith didn’t understand a single word of.

“L-LET ME OUT!” Keith shouted, trying to break free of the cables, but unable to move a single inch from the wall.

Aoinga gadlea Mandgayu the voice intoned again, either ignoring Keith or unable to understand him period. The tube shifted, changing from transparent to an opaque dark green. Keith’s eyes went wide as that happened, leaving him trapped in darkness, but that did not last, as a few seconds later, a series of bright green beams appeared on top and bottom of the tube and began moving towards him.

“Shit!” he hissed, wiggling as he tried to break free “Shitshitshitshitshit!” he closed his eyes and braced himself as the beams reached his feet and the top of his head.

There was a loud buzzing sound and the smell of something burning as the beams crisscrossed over his entire body. As they moved, they turned his clothes and any hair on his body into ash, which was rapidly sucked up by a built-in vacuum cleaner on the ground. He was left completely nude and free of hair in the tube after the first passing of the beams, and his blaster and the glove fell to the ground, clanking against the metal floor as they now had nothing to hold on to. The scavver opened his eyes slowly as he heard the sound of the items hitting the floor and looked around. As he did, he moved his head and realized what the beam had done.

“Fuck!” he groaned, shaking his head “That’s gonna be a pain in the ass to fix…” he looked down at the floor, his face going a bit red as he saw his freckle-covered bare form, but he focused on the floor and the items on the ground.

Kjadad mnad…Edaknag the voice spoke again as a series of blue beams formed on the ground, scanning the items. The ones touching his blaster turned bright red and flashed, and the smell of burning flooded Keith’s nostrils again as it was reduced to ashes.

“I’m so fucked…” he mumbled, trying to wiggle free again with no dice. The beams hitting the glove however, changed to green and a high-pitched beeping noise rang out instead. An arm popped out of the ceiling and picked it up, moving it closer to Keith

Kioad….gadn keatpo the voice said one more time before the glove lit up, the green circuits on the glove starting to glow a bright green, as did lines on the surface of the glove. It hissed as it opened up as well. The tubes holding Keith’s arm began to move as well, forcing his hand forward and into the open glove.

“W-Wait, what the fuck are you doing?” Keith stammered out, more confused than anything at this point. The machine, once again, ignored his words. Instead, it put his hand into the glove, which hissed and slammed shut around it. He blinked and wiggled his hand, barely able to even make the gloves twitch due to how much larger than his own body it was. A second later, the glove hissed and opened, the tendrils forcing his arm back against the wall. The trapped scavver let out a nervous chuckle and shook his head.

“R-Right…this thing is probably some k-kind of Power Armor station…. Thought I was a recruit or something…. G-Guess it figured I wasn’t one… H-Hopefully it will let me out now that it sees I don’t fit into the- GAH!” Keith hissed as he felt something jab into his left butt cheek, followed by a small amount of heat.

Dakre agda….bamda the voice said as from the ceiling, a pair of arms appeared and moved downwards to Keith’s body.

“Um…” the former ginger mumbled, eyeing the two arms, which seemed to have some kind of device at the tip instead of a claw like the one holding the glove “Are you gonna be the thing that lets me out?” he asked with a nervous smile on his face. There was no answer from the machine, instead the two arms pointed at his arms and shot out a bright purple laser. The scavver’s eyes went wide as he saw that, but all that happened when the beams hit his skin was a light tingling running across his muscles. The beams moved up and down across his entire arms, from his hands to his shoulders. Before he could say anything else, the tingle transformed into a pulse of arousal and pleasure ringing out from his arms, making him shiver and moan rather loudly, his dick springing up, hard as a stone.

“W-What the fuuuuuuuuuuu….” he moaned, biting his tongue to stop himself from moaning. He looked over at his arms, blinking as he saw that they were…growing. With each pass of the laser, the muscles in his arms grew more and more, taking him from his normally twig-like build and closer to something akin to the arms of a bodybuilder. He heard some more whirring from above, his eyes going wide as more of those arms dropped down and fired the same purple lasers across his body.

One beam hit his chest, stomach, and shoulders, and began to move back and forth across them, the muscles underneath the beam being sculpted into a perfect six-pack, his chest into a firm pair of pecs that anyone would be jealous of. His shoulders shifted, becoming broader to fit not only his larger chest but also his new arms, which now looked perfectly at home with his more sculpted chest.

The next two beams hit his legs and a very similar process began there, whatever had been injected into his behind allowing the lasers to mold his body as they saw fit. He blinked as he felt his bare feet touching the floor of the tube, his legs having gotten longer as well as more muscular, his feet being made bigger to match his new height and build. He moaned as the changes sent another wave through his system, making him shiver in place and close his eyes, trying to find anything to focus on besides the sensations the beams were sending through his body.

After what felt like an eternity to him, the arms retracted back into the ceiling and the haze of arousal finally began to lessen, though he was still panting as he blinked his eyes open and leaned his head back forward. Panting, he looked down at this body and gasped, seeing his new build properly for the first time. The only thing that reminded him that this was his body he was looking at was the freckles that dotted his skin, because aside from that his build was nothing like the beanpole he had been when the cables had dragged him into the tube, now more akin to a professional weightlifter or strongman than the skinny scavenger he had always been. There was a hiss as cold air rushed into the tube, making him both shiver and moan as his now sensitive skin felt the cold air hit it.

“W-What the….” he panted, shivering as he looked at the glove, which opened up again with another hiss. His arm was moved forward again and his hand slipped into the high-tech gear, which closed around it. This time, it was skin-tight against his now bigger hand and arm. He blinked and wiggled his fingers, seeing that there was no resistance from the rubbery material thanks to the micro-motors in the glove. “R-Right…I-I fit the armor now….And that’s all I’ve got on me…So can I just go now?” he asked, looking up at the ceiling of the tube.

Dakng….gadnab Yuakhda the computer spoke. Before Keith could even react, his other arm was brought forward and another glove was slipped on, hissing as it was sealed up

“T-The hell!?” he shouted as both his arms were slammed against the wall again “W-Where did that come…” his eyes went wide as he saw an opening in the ceiling of the tube, where new pieces of the suit were being produced in front of his eyes. He saw a pair of boots being assembled in front of him, starting with a glob of the rubber-like material taking on the needed shape, then circuitry seeming to grow out of the rubber, then the micro-motors forming and finally another layer of rubber, which had the glowing green lines the gloves did. As soon as they were done, they were brought down to the floor and opened up with a similar hiss to the gloves. “S-Stop!” he shouted as the cables holding him lifted up his feet, slipping them into the boots and sealing them before bringing them back to the same spot as before. He groaned and tried to move his toes, but unlike the gloves, he was met with a lot of resistance. He couldn’t move his toes an inch. He winced and shivered as another jolt of pleasure rang through him thanks to the cold air.

“W-What’s next?” he asked as he looked up, gasping as he saw the suit’s mask being assembled and lowered. It looked exactly like the ones he’d seen on the other suits, a large horned mask with a muzzle and a screen for eyes. The arms turned it around and opened it as it approached his head. The cables forced him to bend forward, and the mask was right in front of his face. His eyes went wide as the mask was fitted around his head his mouth being forced onto a small mold for his mouth at the base of the mask’s muzzle, which connected to his nose as well, the hiss that rang out making it clear it had been sealed around his head. He then felt his body being shoved back into position. Felt being the keyword as he couldn’t see anything inside the mask, only hearing the sound of his breathing through the mask’s filters.

Ddatea ad came the voice again, muffled. A second later, the mask began to glow green as it turned on. He shivered as he felt something being placed into his ears and light-flooded into his vision as the screen turned on, showing just two blue dots in front of him

“Whas happnenin…” he mumbled around the mouthguard.

Bda-uange adaptation complete the voice said, now sounding in an understandable language Updating visor UI with translation for ease of drone efficiency

“Drone!?” Keith said, trying to break free of the wall again with renewed effort, but it was still in vain. Even with his new build, the cables had too tight a hold on him.

Subject of Non-Cok'ex origin. The voice continued, now sounding like it was coming from inside Keith’s head Drone Work Suit adapted to new physiology. Commencing full suiting procedure.

Keith blinked and then shivered, moaning loudly as he felt something cold flowing out of the pieces of the suit he was wearing. Unseen to him, more of the rubbery material was flowing out of the mask, gloves, and boots and coating the rest of his muscular body in the outfit, manufacturing the suit on his body as the individual pieces had done before. The lack of hair on his body meant there wasn’t a single obstacle as the base rubber formed, coating every single pore and spot of his skin. His still-hard dick was encased and entrapped in a large bulge between his legs. A second later, the circuits and micro-motors began to form on the rubber as well, feeding all the telemetry into the mask, with a HUD forming around the two blue dots that dominated his vision, giving him a readout of his surroundings and the status of the suit’s integrity. And finally, one final layer formed on top, giving him the same glowing green lines that all Cok’ex technology shared.

Finally, the cables holding his body in place released him and he stumbled forwards blind, leaning against the tube as he reached up and grabbed the suit by the horns, attempting to rip it off.

“Geoff me” he said, tugging again and again in a vain effort to get the material to give and let him go.

Error. Subject non-complaint. The voice said Adjusting parameters to match…

Before Keith could even wonder what that meant, he felt the motors in the suit seize up and freeze him in place. A second later, he felt a light tickle in his ear as what entered before began to work.

Accessing biological memory storage….the voice said Accessed. Beginning total memory wipe.

“Wait wh-” the words died in his throat as suddenly everything became hazy. His memories disappeared instantly, flashing before his eyes for a split second before evaporating into nothingness. He blinked and tried to shake his head as a sense of confusion and panic began to form “W-Where am I? W-What’s going on?”

Memory Wipe succesful

“W-What?! Memory wipe?!” he shouted

Error. Subject emotional levels elevated. Compensating. The voice said as the guy in the suit felt a tickle in his ear.

“W-What do you mean compenssating? What are you….” he blinked as he felt his emotions…drain away. Anger, fear, confusion, everything just drained and evaporated out of his system.

Emotional Center accessed. Emotional Suppression System installed and fully functional.

The guy formerly known as Keith just stared ahead blankly as the voice spoke, the words being processed by his mind but not really generating any response beyong the logical understanding of them.

Beginning Drone Program Upload…. The voice said as the figure felt his arms being moved back to his sides and being made to stand up straight. While that happened, the tickling on his ear returned and information flooded his mind.

He….It was Worker Drone Alpha. The first unit made by this vessel since it was abandoned by its organic occupants. Information on the workings of Cok’ex techonology, engineering and everything required to keep this ship functional, as well as all the abilites and functions of it’s suit flooded into it’s now empty brain. A second later, the screen in front of it’s eyes flickered to life, showing the transparent material separating its recharging tube from the rest of the ship.

Drone Alpha. Report status

“Drone Alpha operating at 100%,” it said in an emotionless, synthetic voice through the mask’s built-in speakers “Previous data has been wiped. Emotional Suppression system is fully functional. New data has been uploaded with no errors or corruption”

Stand-by for structural analysis of the vessel

“Understood,” the drone said with a nod, as a hiss rang out and stepped out of the tube, it’s heavy boots clunking against the metal floor.

Structural analysis complete. Errors in superstructure detected and uploaded to Drone Alpha’s systems. Begin repair routine then report to recharge pod when task is complete.

“Orders understood,” Drone Alpha said, the path being highlighted on its HUD “Begining repair routines immediately” it began stomping through the halls of the ship, the only thing in its mind was its work and nothing else.

================================================

Been a while since I posted a full fic, but damn this one took a bit of work. But in the end, I think I'm proud of it!

It's the first NSFW fic set in a sci fi universe of my own making. I gave a look at it in my collab fic Finders Keepers, but this is mostly what this is setting will be for. One shots of my boy Keith getting in trouble as he explores space looking for stuff to scavange!

Hope that you all enjoy it and if you have questions about the setting or ideas for other things that could happen to this unfortunate scavver, let me know in the comments!

A massive, massive thank you to my Patrons, who support me and my stories! If your interested in getting early access to them, seeing my writing progress in action or getting in an early vote during the start of my Poll Stories, please consider supporting me on there! Special shout-out to my top-tier Patron, Viketren!

I also have a Ko-Fi account if you prefer to drop a single donation instead of monthly support

#patreon #brainwashing #original story #mind control #gay art #scifi #drone

0 notes

violetlilysunshine · 4 years ago

Text

Like a Sleepover

Tom Holland x Female Reader

Requested

Anon: Sleeping over Tom Holland house for the first time. Lots of fluff please

WC: 3,544

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: I'm seeing this take place in Atlanta, but it’s not really specific if you wanna imagine it somewhere else!

REQUESTS OPEN - Or just come chat :)

MASTERLIST

You and Tom had been together for a little while; you were getting serious, spending more and more time together.

Last month, you finally put a label on yourselves, “is it...ya know, uh… can I, well…” he stuttered.

“Spit it out, Tommy,” you joked.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?”

You were taken aback for a second, “well, uh, to be honest, I kinda thought I already was…” you giggled.

He laughed at you gently, “well alright then, girlfriend…” he trailed off with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Okay, boyfriend.”

TUESDAY

Flash forward and you’re making plans for this weekend seeing as you're both off from filming.

“Yeah, so they’re showing Outsiders at the drive-in on Friday, and we’d have to go to the later showing after I finish filming, but uh, I thought it would be fun and something different for us and I know you love the movie. Might be fun to dress like Greasers too,” he proposed through the phone, calling you between scenes.

“Ooh that does sound like fun, but I wanna be Cherry,” you said, giggling a bit.

“Okay, you can be Cherry, I’ll be Ponyboy,” he finalized.

“Sounds good, well I gotta go,” you said, “duty calls.”

“Yeah, me too, but uh, one more thing real fast?”

“Sure, what’s up, babe?”

“Well seeing as it’s going to be really late, I just thought maybe after it’s over, you could maybe stay with me?” his voice tweaked up at the end. He was met with silence on your end for a minute before he added, “ya know, like a sleepover…”

“Uh, yeah, maybe…” you trailed off, “we’ll see what the wind blows, huh?”

“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, “yeah sounds good.”

“Okay, well I really do have to run.”

“Alright, darling, talk to you tonight.”

“Bye,” you said, already walking out of your trailer and back to set.

“Yeah, bye,” he answered to himself, seeing as you’d already ended the call.

You had never been nervous with him before, but now he’d casually invited you to stay over at his house for the night, something you’d never done with any boyfriend, ever. You didn’t know how to act, and it kinda freaked you out.

Was he expecting anything? What would you even wear? Should you bring a change of clothes? Would late night last into early morning? What if you woke up before him and didn’t know what to do in his house? What if he woke up first and you slept in really late, leaving him bored and trapped?

Questions swirled your mind, and you knew he would bring it up again, but you had to force them away. You hustled back to set, getting into character and trying to forget about everything.

He called you later that night, “wanna grab a bite with Harry and I?” he proposed.

“Uh sure,” you thought since Harry would be there, he wasn’t likely to bring it up again.

You met him just down the street from his house at the forgotten diner you frequented, never being recognized and getting some peace together. You grabbed burgers and chatted about your day as you ate and everything seemed fine. He didn’t bring it up again, and you thought you would have another few days to process everything and hopefully get over the hurdles in your mind. You wanted to stay with him, but you didn’t know how that would play out, exactly.

“Finished?” he asked, gesturing to your empty tray as he stood up.

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled, and he cleaned up the table and took the trash to the can.

“I’m gonna walk back, if that’s okay,” Harry said, standing from the table, “got some photos I wanna edit.”

“Sure, bro, I’ll be right behind you,” Tom answered, coming back to you.

“Bye,” you waved as he left you and Tom alone.

“Walk you to your car?” Tom offered.

You stood up, turning around to thank the workers as the two of you left the diner. He walked you to your car, one hand secured around your shoulders, hugging you tight to his side.

“So, uh, I kinda got the sense that you didn’t want to stay with me earlier,” he said slowly, testing the waters to see how you would react.

You swallowed hard, turning to lean on the door of your car, “oh,” you whispered, “well uh, it’s not that, it’s just that I don’t - I’ve never really, uh, done that before.”

“Yeah I know we haven’t, love,” he chuckled.

“I mean, like ever,” you whispered, looking at the ground, “I just uh, don’t really know how that works.”

“Oh, well, uh, it’s not that hard really,” he soothed, “you just sorta sleep at my place, and I take care of you, and make you breakfast, and we just be together.”

You looked into his chocolate eyes, nothing but love pouring out of them. You don’t know how long you held his gaze for, but he started to get a little nervous at your lack of response.

“I mean, we’ve napped together before, it’s kinda like the same thing, just longer,” he added, trying to put you at ease.

“But like, what’s gonna happen?” you said, fiddling with your hands.

He understood what your emphasis meant, bringing a hand to your shoulder and rubbing it gently, “I’m not expecting anything, love,” he soothed you, “if it happens, fine, I’m ready for that. If you’re not that’s fine too, just wanna cuddle with you. Feel you pressed against me. Have my sheets smell like you when I get in ‘em the next night.”

You felt more at ease about it, but wrinkled your nose at his last statement.

His eyes grew wide, “no no no,” he hurried out, “I didn’t mean it, like, in a weird way! It came out wrong!”

You giggled at him, “it’s okay, bub, I get it. Why do you think I like wearing your hoodies all the time?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling at you, “yeah?”

“Yeah, and to be honest I don’t really even like hoodies. I’m a sweatshirt kind of gal.”

“Noted,” he answered, saving that info for later, “so what d’ya think about Friday?”

“I’ll stay, but like, do I bring anything?”

“You can bring whatever makes you comfortable, love,” he answered quietly, stepping towards you and cupping your face in his hands.

“Okay,” you breathed, connecting your lips to his.

You kissed for a while, his body pressing yours into the door. You pulled back to take a breath, resting your forehead on his, “but really, do I bring like, a toothbrush and stuff?”

“Yes, love, bring a toothbrush,” he chuckled, pecking you again. He swung his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you off the car, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

He opened your door, letting you inside the driver’s seat and closing the door. You started the car, him still standing there watching you. You rolled down the window, “are you coming or what?” you laughed.

“What?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m taking you home, obviously,” you giggled.

He ran around to the other side, hopping in quickly and buckling up. His hand rested against your thigh instantly, stroking his thumb across your skin.

You made the short drive to his house, lights on downstairs showing that Harry was already there.

“Thanks for the ride, baby,” Tom said, leaning over the console and giving you a quick peck.

“Anytime,” you whispered, pecking him again.

“See you Friday,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows, squeezing your thigh.

“Yeah, Friday,” you answered quickly.

He pecked you one last time before slipping out of the car and jogging to the front door. You watched him go inside, waving to each other before you drove off.

THURSDAY

After you were off, you took a long shower, exfoliating everything and shaving your legs, in preparation for tomorrow night. You carefully packed your bag: toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, hair brush, extra ponytail holders, face wash, cute pajamas, fuzzy socks, extra undies (more than you’ll ever possibly need but can’t be too prepared, right?), a cute outfit for Saturday, and a book (because who knows what the tide will bring?).

You’d spent so long worrying about what you would take with you, that you’d forgotten that you had to find something to wear to the movie. You’d already agreed to be Cherry, so you had to come up with something.

You slipped to the back of your closet, finding an old-plaid-navy-school-uniform skirt. That’ll work. You pulled out a plain white sweater that you’d never found a chance to wear, thinking you could tuck that in, and a lace bralette to go underneath it; after all, you wanted to feel a little sexy. You pulled forward some old blue Vans and some white crew socks, planning to fold them over. You also planned to ask your hair and make-up artist to help you with your hair before you left set tomorrow, saving a few pictures for her.

By the time you’d done all that, you figured you better go to bed, turning off the light, crawling into bed, and thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

FRIDAY

You’d had a long and stressful day filming, stuttering over your lines, missing your marks, and overall just not giving your best performance. Everyone has their off days, but you knew this was coming from your worries about tonight.

You called Tom as you were getting your hair done after wrapping for the day.

“Hi, bub, am I interrupting you?” you asked as soon as he answered.

“Never, love,” he answered, “what’s up?”

“Well, I’m getting my hair done for tonight, then I was going to head home. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t want me to stop and get anything at all or bring anything specific with me..”

“Course not, darling. You just have to bring that pretty face…” he trailed off.

If you were with him, you’d have slapped his shoulder lightly. Instead you just giggled, asking, “you’re positive?”

“Yes darling,” he insisted, “I’ll pick you up at 9:00.”

“Alright…” you trailed, “guess I better let you get back to work.”

“I’ll see you later, beautiful,” he whispered, “bye.”

“Bye.”

Your hair and make-up artist finished her work, expertly recreating your example images. You thanked her profusely, complimenting her over and over.

She answered with a simple, “it’s nothing dear,” and a wave of her hand.

You hugged her thank you, heading back to your trailer to collect your things.

By the time you got back to your apartment, it was already 8:30. You quickly dropped your work and other set junk on the table, scurrying to your room to collect your bag for Tom’s. You checked over everything in there, playing all the possible scenarios in your mind before deciding you were prepared.

You changed into your outfit for the night, lacing your shoes and admiring yourself in the full length mirror. You snapped a few pictures, deciding that one was cute and posted it to your Instagram story with the caption, “where’s my Pony?” and a cherry emoji.

As soon as you put it up, Tom knocked on your door. You rushed through the living room to the front door, flinging it open to see what Tom had concocted for the evening. You took in his appearance, mouth watering at the sight. You admired his slicked back hair, tight grey t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit of course, loose jeans, cuffed at the hem, beat up black converse, and red flannel hanging over his shoulder; you didn’t realize the effect this dress-up would have on you. You giggled, eyeing him up and down as he did the same to you.

“Hey, doll,” he grinned, meeting your eyes again.

“Hey, Pony,” you laughed.

“Ready to go?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, let me just get my bag from my room,” you said, turning back to grab it from your bed.

At the last second you decided to throw a box of tampons in. You weren’t expecting to use them, but you didn’t want to get stranded without them. You sighed, zipping up the bag and turning off your bedroom light.

You emerged from the room, walking towards Tom, standing by the table.

“Ready,” you said, voice kind of quiet.

“Let’s go then,” he smiled brightly, taking your bag from you and grabbing your hand. You locked the door behind you before following him to his car.

~~~~

When you parked to watch the movie, Tom was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of the title screen and posting it to his public story. You knew fans would be in a tizzy, considering your earlier post, but they always were so what’s the point in worrying. Then he turned to you, “take a photo with me, love?”

“Course, Pony, anything for you,” you said dramatically, even though you loved it.

“Are you gonna call me that all night?” he chuckled.

“Maybe forever,” you answered, laughing loudly.

He pulled his phone up to take a selfie. You smiled wide, pressing your faces together, and he turned to peck your cheek. He snapped another, smiling as well, saving it and setting it as his lock screen.

The movie was great, as expected, and the drive-in atmosphere made it even more fun. You didn’t have to worry about fans interrupting you, a big plus, but it also just fit the movie so well, and it was fun to be in costume.

When it wrapped up and you were waiting in the traffic to pull out of the lot, Tom asked gently, “still wanna come over?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, trying not to overthink things.

“Okay, just making sure. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just want you to be comfortable,” he said, dropping a hand to your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, well I wanna give it a go,” you said with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his.

He smiled wide, picking up your hand to give it a kiss, before dropping it back into your lap.

The drive to his house was quick after you finally made it out of the parking lot. He hurried around the car, opening your door for you, before grabbing your bag from the backseat.

He placed a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to the front door. He shuffled around to unlock it, pushing open the door and allowing you to enter first. You stepped inside, making note of Harry on the couch. It was almost 1:00 AM, so you’d assumed he'd be asleep.

“Oh, hey Harry,” you spoke lightly.

“Hey, was wondering when you’d get here…” he trailed off, “I was just about to turn in. Outfit’s great by the way,” he said, standing from the couch and gathering his laptop.

“I don’t mean to chase you out,” you said, not wanting to be in the way.

“No, no, you didn’t,” he soothed, “it’s time to turn in anyway, gonna go golf in the morning.”

“Oh, okay, goodnight.”

“Night,” he said, trudging down the hall.

Tom had set your bag on the bench in the entryway, coming up behind you. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against his front, as he snuggled his face into your neck.

“Hi,” he whispered in your hair.

“Hi,” you giggled back, attempting to turn in his grasp.

His hands held you in place, wrapping around to cross over your stomach. He rested his weight against you, slowly swaying the both of you back and forth.

You eyed the mirror across the room, desperate to take pictures like this. After all, he got a new lockscreen earlier…

“Bub,” you giggled, feeling his breath fan across your neck.

“Mmm, yes, my love?” he grumbled, pressing kisses against your skin.

“I wanna take a picture,” you giggled, “over in that cool mirror.”

He squeezed you tighter for a second, before releasing you, “mmkay,” he answered, letting you lead him over to the mirror.

“Do that again,” you told him, guiding his arms around your waist.

He was quick to settle back into you, breathing in your scent as you snapped a few photos in the mirror: a few of him kissing your neck, a few with you both looking in the mirror, a few of him looking at you, lovingly. He buried his face even further into you, hiding completely, as you took just one more. You asked him if it was okay to post one.

“Let me see it first,” he said, wanting to check all of the surroundings for spoilers and whatnot.

He was quick to approve the photo with his lips pressed to your jaw, making you smile.

You put it up on your story, captioning this one, “found him,” with the horse and cherry emojis.

He kissed your neck a few times, watching you post, before mumbling, “ready for bed?”

You yawned slowly, “yeah, I think so.”

“Alright,” he whispered, pecking your cheek one final time.

He slid one hand down your arm, locking your fingers together, and pulling you towards the staircase. He picked up your bag, carrying it with him up to his bedroom. You followed him in and he set your bag on the end of the bed.

“Alright, darling,” he said, rubbing his hands together gently, “make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you giggled, stepping towards the end of the bed gently.

He’d placed your bag in the middle, next to a sweatshirt. You looked at him, making note of its presence.

“Oh, well, uh, you said you didn’t like hoodies, so I uh, pulled this one out for you, ya know, if you want it,” he said, shuffling his feet.

All you could do was smile, You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. You kissed him gently, lingering for just a second.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

You turned towards the bed, stepping back from him.

“So what’d you bring?” he asked, one hand finding the zipper of your bag as he tried to get a peek inside. You were quick to stop his hands, not wanting him to see the box of tampons thrown on top.

“Things,” you said giggling, “teeth stuff, hair stuff, clothes, a book…” you trailed off.

“A book?” he laughed lightly, “what book?”

“Looking for Alaska,” you answered, “it’s my comfort book.”

“Well, you’ll have to read it to me,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“Okay,” you whispered with a sheepish smile.

“I’m gonna pop in the bathroom real quick, alright?”

“Of course, it’s your house,” you laughed.

In his absence, you changed clothes, dragging on your tiny sleep shorts and matching tank top and pulling his sweatshirt over the top. You moved your bag off the mattress, dropping it on the floor. He came back quickly, seeing your new outfit, and smiling widely.

“Looks good on you,” he grinned.

“Thanks,” you said, “can I take my makeup off?”

“Course,” he answered, gesturing to the bathroom.

While you did that, he changed as well, dressing in a new t-shirt and clean boxers; he didn’t want to get in bed with you for the first time in dirty boxers of course. He shuffled under the covers, tucking into his usual side and propping against the headboard. He scrolled through Instagram, reposting your stories to his own and liking a few posts of yours.

You returned, dropping your items back in your bag, and grabbing your book. You flipped off the overhead light and stepped into the other side, enjoying how utterly domestic everything felt.

He flipped on the lamp on the side table, opening his arm for you to rest against him. You settled against his chest, opening your book to start to read to him. He kissed your head and rubbed small circles into your arm.

Your eyes were getting heavy as you read, but you would gladly stay up all night reading with him. Unfortunately, he started to doze off, snoring just enough for you to hear. You closed the book, marking your page but knowing you’d have to go back a little bit tomorrow, and reached over to turn the light off.

He woke up a bit, grumbling, “what’re you doing, love?”

“Just turning off the light,” you whispered, “go back to sleep.”

He sank down to lay against the pillows. You dropped back over to your side, curling up, but leaving some distance between you two. You faced him, admiring his face as he slept.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbled, eyes still closed.

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “going to sleep.”

“No, c’mere,” he said, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist.

He pulled you into him, tangling your legs together and pecking your cheeks. You giggled at him, pulling his lips to yours, kissing him goodnight.

“G’night, my love,” he grumbled, tipping his head back to rest his chin against your forehead.

“Night, Pony,” you whispered back.

He chuckled, squeezing you tighter before you both drifted off to sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x fem reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland sleepover #violetwrites

426 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Illicit Affairs — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 11.2k

Genre: Smut. A tiny little bit of angst and fluff too but. Smut.

Rating: 18+

Hi bumblebees! Thank you for staying with me so far and for being so kind with hey works and my continuously shifting schedule.

Quick plot! Hoseok and Giggles have just met: Giggles was the substitute for Mickey’s vet and she helped the doggo and Hoseok during an emergency, however the hour they spent together was enough for Hoseok to develop a quite intense crush for the young woman. He decides he wants to invite her to a date and picks his apartment as the location, going out of his way to try to impress her. However, the elegant dinner miserably crashes once his poor nerves abandon him. Fortunately, Giggles can take the reins, but is also willing to give them up at the right moment.

Special thanks to beta extraordinaire, @hobiandsprite I really love you. Please, don’t be sad and let those giggles out every now and then.

Moving on to The Big Stuff.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, swearing. Basic BDSM training, Sir!Hoseok x sub!reader; safe sex, briefest mentions of masturbation (male and female), grinding, humping, making out, lots of tongue action, food play (and very messy one at it), cum play, cum eating, mild choking kink, one (1) breast slap, mild fetishism (panties, perfume/smells). Hoseok is overall very controlling, especially while he’s giving her basic training. There’s some sort of exhibitionism (if you like,,,, squint). Also Hoseok is a neurotic mess, Giggles is also quite tense and both like each other a lot, which leads to a few moments of weakness here and there. Mentions of vet emergency (don’t worry, Mickey is doing alright, he was just suffering from the hot temperatures).

Here you can check my full masterlist

Enjoy 💜✨

Jung Hoseok was nervous.

He was tense, palms sweating, nape drenched in perspiration.

He was a ball of nerves and he had never felt like this in a long time. Maybe ever since his first performance in the U.S.

Not like the day of their debut, but close.

And all of this for a stupid date.

He just wanted to know you, see if the image he had built of you actually corresponded with your actual personality.

He cracked his neck and shoulders, pacing back and forth, wondering if it were a good idea having you at his place.

After all, you were Mickey’s vet. He could be safe with you, right? You wouldn’t expose him now, would you?

It was the first time he ever brought someone in his home and he was way too nervous to feel comfortable.

He immediately picked up his phone.

“Jung. Hoseok. I don’t even know why I picked up this call. Why aren’t you getting prepped and polished for your date?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet and gravelly from the other side. It was seven pm, he shouldn’t have been sleeping, Hoseok mused, shaking his head once he realised Yoongi was spending the weekend with Kitten and the two had probably been dozing off on the sofa all afternoon.

“I think I fucked up. I like this apartment, I can’t jeopardise my home.” He panicked, finally losing his cool.

Yoongi inhaled and groaned as he stood up, leaving Kitten alone to rest undisturbed. “She seems a kind person. A smart one too. Just talk to her.”

“You know I suck at talking!” Hoseok whined, combing his hair off his forehead. “I don’t know why I want to impress her so bad.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Because you have a crush on her.”

“But I don’t even know her!” Hoseok protested, sitting on the sofa for a second before standing up again.

“That’s the key ingredient of a crush. Once you start getting to know her, you either grow out of it or fall in love.”

Hoseok cocked his head and toyed with his earlobe nervously. “Do you think she’ll like me? I mean, she looks so sweet, and so innocent and I can’t even imagine her being into—”

“Don’t judge. Strange fits sometimes work. Think Jimin and Princess. Seokjin hyung and Angel. They work. Strange, I know, but they do.”

Hoseok exhaled.

“Stop pacing. Don’t be too hard on yourself. First date is always a bumpy road. Maybe you’ll find out she’s not your thing and all these worries will be gone by the end of the night.”

“What if I like her and she doesn’t like me?”

Yoongi softened. “It’s all part of the game, Hobah.”

Hoseok nodded. “I have to go see if the chef needs help.”

Yoongi grinned. His friend was really going out of his way. Once, all he wanted were hotel rooms and quiet, curvy brunettes with so many sins they had officially given up on heaven at least a lifetime ago. “No matter how it goes, I’m sure you’ll find someone right for you.”

Hoseok nodded curtly before realising his friend couldn’t see his reply. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Sweep her off her feet, Casanova.”

With a bubbly laugh, Hoseok interrupted the call, headed to the private kitchenette. “Can I help you in any way?” Hoseok asked, still keeping his hands on his stomach, trying not to touch anything that could possibly cause a disaster — which considering the setting and his poor cooking skills meant everything.

“It’s okay. I can take care of everything. Don’t worry. Relax.” The chef almost wanted to take a second to pat the younger man’s back. He was probably six years his senior but the stress of a first date was timeless.

And the poor guy was sweating disastrously.

“Okay, then I’ll go check the table.” Hoseok murmured.

“Already settled. And the cake is waiting in the fridge. It’s still too hot for it.” The chef replied as he turned off the stove since the sauce for the noodles had reached perfect texture. “Maybe a small glass of soju could help?”

Hoseok shook his hands in panic. “Oh, no. That would make it all worse. Why is it so hot in here!”

He walked away from the kitchen, once more staring at the table near the wide floor to ceiling windows. The view would soon turn stunning, the Han river running like a pitch black road, cutting the city in two, Itaewon lighting up in the distance and emerging like a glowing mirage against the night sky.

What if she’s scared of heights?

He banged his head against the wall, pacing again, texting the group chat.

HS: “What if she suffers from vertigo?”

SJ: “You didn’t place the table by the window, did you?”

Hoseok tugged at his hair, undoing a button on his shirt. Why was everything so fucking hot?!

HS: “Should I move it? I have ten minutes! I can move it.”

TH: “Don’t. You can place her with her back to the window if she feels uncomfortable.”

JK: “You’re such a loser, hyung. Relax, it will work out.”

HS: “DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX YOU UNGRATEFUL RASCAL”

JM: “Okay, let’s calm down. Personally I would feel even worse with my back to the window. You can move to the coffee table. It will feel more informal and you will FINALLY GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS,

JM: “she probably just wants to chat over fried chicken while you’re going to make her uncomfortable with all that finesse.”

NJ: “Gotta agree with Jimin on this one. She’ll simply want to chat. You’ll want to chat and get to know her.”

YG: “I told you it will be alright now stop spamming.”

HS: “AND I SUCK AT CHATTING”

JK: “yeah, you kinda ramble”

JM: “not helping Guk.”

The doorbell rang.

Fuck.

He pocketed his phone and headed to the door. “Yes?”

“Uhm… It’s confusing here, I think you need to pick me up.” You said anxiously over the intercom.

“I’m coming. Wait in the foyer.” He slipped on his shoes and got in the elevator, cracking all the joints of his fingers as it descended, going through the process again once he had cracked them all. He dumbly wished he had more fingers.

The door opened and there you stood with your back to him, your shoulders covered by a messy tumble of hair.

“Hello?” He called, making you turn around immediately.

His stomach turned upside down when you hit him with your sweetest, most radiant smile as you faced him. “Hi!”

He felt dumbstruck. You looked adorable, way too pretty for him. Way too incredible for anyone in the universe. “Hello.” He repeated, feeling a nervous smile constrict his face.

It almost looked like a grimace. For a second you thought you had somehow disappointed him. Maybe your dress was too informal? Were you too underdressed?

Staring at his outfit, you realised you were.

“You look very handsome.” You flattened your dress nervously, aware of every movement you made, feeling ridiculous.

“Oh, thank you.” He emitted the most neurotic laugh. Pull yourself together, Jung Hoseok, he innerly scolded himself before gesturing to the lift. “Shall we?”

You nodded, your glee completely lost. Staring at your dumb flats, you approached the opening doors and entered, Hoseok following suit.

You both stayed silent for a couple floors. “How was your day?” You managed to find the guts to ask.

“Uhm… Okay, I guess? My family came to pick Mickey up the other day so it’s been very quiet and a bit lonely.” He smiled but he looked sad.

You nodded. “Pets really change the whole feeling of home.”

He noticed you pressing your hands together before your lap, tucking your elbows against your sides as you tried to shrink yourself enough to disappear. You knew you should have bought a nice dress for this. You cursed your childish tastes and your sweet saffron dress, too demure and cheap for him. You had maybe spent 30,000 won on it, probably the equivalent of his shoelaces.

Screw that — obviously even his shoelaces cost more than that.

You started sucking at your lips, frowning at yourself for messing up your lipgloss. Out of nerves, you started twisting slightly side to side, your dress moving slightly with the motion, your eyes still focused on your shoes.

He was intimidating. Why in the world did you accept a date with him? He was way out of your league! All it would be was one date you would remember someday in your old years, annoying your grandchildren with that one time you had dinner at one of the most incredibly powerful and famous artists of the world.

Hoseok surreptitiously dried his palms against his trousers. He looked at you. His stomach turned again. He wondered how he would manage to eat all that food. All he could do was look at you and take in the cute freckles, that peppered your nose and cheekbones, and your arms too.

“You have freckles.” He noted absentmindedly, a thought unwillingly turned into speech.

You turned your head to him, batting your lashes confusedly. Was it a good thing or a bad thing?

“Yes.”

“You look like a strawberry.” Jung Hoseok, what the fuck.

You frowned. Again, was that good or bad?

“No one has ever told me that before,” you replied with a tense giggle.

He cocked his head at the sound. That was sweet. He liked that. Could he make you laugh like that again? “And you look very pretty in the dress. That shade of yellow really compliments you.” He confessed, feeling his whole face blush.

This felt like his first crush, when he would hide behind corners not to face the girl he liked, and when he would hide his face because it made him feel strange to be looked in the eye by her. She was way too pretty for him.

Thank the heavens, you thought as the doors finally opened on his floor.

He was drenched in sweat. He could literally feel the back of his shirt stick to his skin. He hoped you wouldn’t notice.

He smiled again, this time more relaxedly as he led the way. The lighting was perfect, the deep night sky splashing its colour over Seoul, the billowing darkness of the Han, the magical glimmering of Itaewon, like a flock of fireflies in the distance.

“Goodness gracious,” you exclaimed, walking toward the window and looking out, completely ignoring the table. “This is… It’s like flying.”

He smiled and let his shoulder sag in relief, his elated exhale cooling his heated chest. “I was panicking because it kind of hit me that you could be scared of heights. Like one of those last minute panic thoughts.”

You turned to him to comfort him. “It’s—”

You noticed the table. You noticed the gargantuan quantity of bowls and dishes and plates and cups spread all over it.

Suddenly it all made sense.

“Was this supposed to be a formal dinner?” You asked, your whole face scrunched in perplexity.

He froze in utter confusion. “Just dinner.”

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking as his left eyelid started pulsating with small flutters.

He hurriedly placed his hand over it, turning his back to you. “Yeah, just… Hot weather, blood pressure...”

You walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was drenched. “Jung Hoseok,” you called calmly.

You could feel his heartbeat get three times faster.

“Hoseok. Turn around,” you told him sweetly, rubbing his shoulder-blade softly, completely ignoring the way the fabric stuck to his skin.

He turned to you, still cupping the left side of his face with both hands.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, feeling the ridge of his shoulder with your fingertips.

He nodded shyly, giving you the smallest pout.

“And you got a full meal for this? Were you trying to kill me by overfeeding me?” You asked with a tiny smile.

“I— I didn’t know what you like and I hired a chef so we could have excellent food here at home and—”

“This wasn’t necessary, you know that right?” You rubbed your thumb against the muscle and bone of his shoulder. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but it seems like you went maybe… slightly out of your way for this.” You noticed more details, like the flowers and the candles and… wait, he hired a chef? There was another person that would take part in your date as a silent, distant viewer?

“Is it too much?” He asked, frowning and grimacing.

You offered him a lopsided grin and tipped your head to one side, then to the other, back and forth in a so-and-so gesture.

He covered his whole face with his hands and collapsed on the sofa. “Shit, I fucked up so bad.”

You crouched down before him, making sure that the dress didn’t expose too much of your thighs. “It’s okay. Would you like to have a formal dinner?”

“I just wanted to make a good impression.” He whined, tugging at his hair once more.

You touched his forearms, trying to ease his tension before realising that you were technically strangers and maybe he didn’t like being touched. You scolded yourself for your over-tactile approach, and your dumb habit of treating everyone like abandoned puppies. Embarrassedly you placed your hands on your lap, his face raising to meet yours as he felt your fingers leave his skin. Had he done something wrong? Had he made a fool of himself one more time, without even knowing?

“You already made a good impression—”

“I wanted to confirm it!” He wailed exasperatedly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down. “We can walk this walk or do something more low-key. More... relaxing,” you suggested, smiling easily, calmly.

He could feel himself calm down. “Would it disappoint you if we just… I don’t know... ate some noodles over a glass of soju and beer?”

You giggled. “That would make me ecstatic.”

“Let me go call off the chef then.” He stood to his feet. “Thank you so much.”

You shrugged and beamed at him. “No biggie.”

In two minutes the chef came out of the kitchen, bowing at you while you still sat on the sofa. “Good evening. I wish you a good meal. I hope you’ll enjoy the food.”

“Thank you for your hard work! I’m sure I’ll enjoy it!” You replied politely and warmly, watching the man collect a bag from the entry room and bow to Hoseok as he accompanied him out.

“He had already finished cooking.” Hoseok exhaled. He looked ten years younger and significantly less stressed. “The meat had already been grilled, it just needs to be warmed up in the oven.”

“You mean there’s more food?” You asked, eyes wide in terror.

He started shaking his hands in equal fear. “We don’t have to eat that too. Maybe just a couple short ribs?” He wondered.

You stared at the rice and side dishes on the table. It was probably four times what you normally ate, and that was without considering his half of the table. “You have glass noodles?” You asked, and he nodded excitedly at your interest.

“With aubergines and mushrooms and pork belly?”

You felt your mouth water. “Can we have those though?”

He smiled excitedly. “The chef was stir frying the vegetables so we would have to finish that.”

You shrugged. “I can do that while you go get changed, if you’d like. Wear something fresh and cozy.”

He looked around nervously.

You immediately realised what was wrong. How could he let a stranger wander through his house? And he wasn’t just anyone. He was a celebrity. A famous person. What if he thought you would sneak through his private spaces and sell information about him to the press?

“Uhm—”

“Oh my god. No, it’s okay. Who would let a stranger stay in their home while they’re in the shower. Dumb me. Sorry.”

He blinked a couple times. “It's the first time I have invited someone in my house, except for my close friends.” He looked down and smiled, his cheeks shooting up in a complicated mix of sadness and joy. “I'm nervous because of that too.”

You nodded. “I know it could sound dumb to say but I care about you. And I'm not interested in gossip and press and all of that. I will respect you and your home. It's basic human decency,” you said, sitting next to him. “I only suggested you go get a change of clothes because that cannot be comfortable and I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted out of that.”

He looked up at you with big, soft eyes. “It would really be okay?”

“Yes, it would, Hobi.” You flinched at the nickname. “Hoseok. Sorry.” You wanted to tear your own tongue off.

However, just as much as you felt disappointed at yourself for the small slip, he felt warm about you calling him by a nickname. He wanted you to say it again. And again. And well… again but in other ways.

“I'll be back in five minutes, just to rinse off and get comfy.”

You nodded. “I'll wait here and then we'll get the noodles ready.”

Hoseok felt extremely relieved once he changed his clothes. The loose linen joggers felt like a soft cloud around his legs, air already circulating better against his skin. And the satin shirt made him feel classy and casual at the same time.

He was pleased at the comfort-looks ratio of his outfit and exited the room confidently. He was further reassured once he found you scrolling through your phone, sitting there innocently, smiling at him once you saw him appear.

“Okay, ready to go?” He asked, standing in front of you, all set to accompany you to the kitchen.

You nodded and took his hand as he helped you up. “Let’s go.”

He smelled amazing, like anise and patchouli. Something sweet and manly at the same time. It suited him perfectly.

Standing a bit too close after he tugged you up, you surreptitiously tried to sniff him, your eyes falling shut once the vaguely honeyed fragrance met your nostrils.

He observed you as you stood there, clearly entranced. Heat crept up his cheeks as your breath tickled down his neck: he was slowly becoming aware of your presence, of the warmth that your skin radiated, of the way a strand of your hair skimmed his arm.

“I like your perfume,” you whispered.

He felt his knees grow vaguely wobbly, a swoony, shy smile stretching his lips.

The moment you opened your eyes, you realised his face was just a few inches away from yours, his blush visible in high definition right before your eyes.

He looked so incredibly, adorably embarrassed. “Thank you,” he replied quietly, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the moment.

Your eyes met his, and for a second he hoped you would get on your tiptoes and kiss him, but you casually turned around and started walking away, turning to him only to ask about the kitchen.

Trying to keep his delusions on the low, he led you to the kitchen, where all you could see was the tidy chaos of creation.

A few bowls were piled neatly in the sink, together with lined up utensils. You let him show you the several drawers and cabinets, explaining where to find a frying pan for the vegetables, the noodles already cooked and marinated in the secret sauce the chef had prepared.

All he could do was stare as you easily made your way through the motions, the main dish of your meal ready to be served after a few minutes, the vegetables keeping a crispy texture while the noodles hit a chewier feel once you mixed the two together.

You set both on different bowls and offered them to Hoseok. “I’ll put a couple short ribs in the oven.”

He nodded and reached the dining table, frowning at all the food spread there in cups and plates and dishes and bowls.

His disappointment was short-lived.

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmured gently, completely incapable of keeping yourself from tracing his spine in between his shoulder blades.

You watched his back straighten, the glossy satin glimmering at the shift of muscles and tendons underneath.

You wanted to see that again. No shirt on, next time.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, trying to awaken yourself from your fantasy.

He set the bowls down and you sat in front of each other, thanking for the food quickly before you started chatting about which food was where.

The meal went on calmly while you talked about your family, your job, and the pets you had visited during the day. At the same time, he explained some of the undercover dynamics of his job, like all the training and briefing and preparations necessary before interviews, photoshoots, or even something as basic as a public appearance where all they had to do was stand and look pretty for the photographers. He teased the theme of the Run episode they had just filmed — which was almost fifteen episodes ahead to the one that had just been aired.

You chit-chatted for a long while, your conversation resembling the sound of chirping birds thanks to Hoseok’s naturally melodic intonation of speech. He was lovely when he stumbled a bit over his words, the ridge of his ears scarlet with embarrassment once a slip of tongue had him making a lewd allusion you caught with a mischievous grin he couldn’t quite catch since your eyes were glued to the table; he had been too busy being ashamed of his freudian lapsus to actually notice that you had enjoyed the reference.

He was saved by the sound of the oven beeping, telling him that the ribs were warm and ready, which made him excuse himself.

He returned just a minute later with more soju and beer, asking if you were okay with the serving or if you were full.

The smell was so inviting you let him convince you.

No matter the large dinner and the several dishes, you managed to eat way more than what you thought, only a quarter of the table remaining untouched.

“Okay, maybe we could pack up the leftovers.” You suggested, standing up once your conversation hit a natural pause, comforted by the feeling that Hoseok no longer felt like a stranger to you.

You helped him, easily getting acquainted with his living room and kitchen. It felt nice to get gradually more independent, enough that you could easily help him up with the containers and that you could assist him with organizing the tupperware in the fridge.

It was all going okay until you were standing in front of the open fridge, ready to close it when his hand landed on yours on the handle, holding the door open. He leaned against your back, grabbing a paper box from the top shelf.

“Sorry,” he spoke quietly, all chirpiness gone.

Shivers propagated from your spine to your limbs, your brain suddenly struck by the feel of perspiration coating your inner thighs. You felt wet and you weren’t sure if it was sweat or actual arousal.

His perfume came in again once he stretched to reach the box.

Hoseok’s attention moved to the mole on your neck as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Careful, it’s heavy,” he said, giving a quick look at your lashes, at the freckles peppered over your cheekbones, your face turned to the side, ready to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

His hand was hot against yours, his back light and solid at the same time.

He parted from you, feeling disappointed with the fact that he had to move, biting his lip as his arm struggled keeping the box upright.

You caved slightly as cool air replaced the warmth of his chest, still feeling the phantom presence of his touch.

“Let’s go back to the living room.” He bit his lip, grabbing another bottle as you almost ran from him.

You weren’t okay with what was going on. Not one small bit. You were not okay with the idea of getting drenched and making a mess of yourself on the first date. You were even less okay with the idea of going back home and spending all night with your hand between your legs, thinking about the mind-blowing sex Jung Hoseok was most definitely capable of performing. With a body like that and years of pilates lessons, there was no doubt he could rearrange your organs as your legs and arms bent to accommodate him and please him.

You were even less pleased by the way you craved to satisfy him. You wanted to hear him moan and whine with his melodious voice. You wanted to hear the symphony of his pleasure, the sound of his cries, the smashing of skin against skin, and maybe the legs of the bed scraping against the floor, the headboard thudding against the wall.

You wanted his perfume on your neck, against your chest. You wanted your thighs to smell like him, the scent of your sex mingling with his cologne. It was primal and visceral and obscure and thrilling.

And then a sick side of you wanted to wake up all the neighbours, let them know he was living the night of his life. And since you could only hope of getting a second chance, you found yourself ready to use the night you’d been granted, if fate would allow you an in to the sinful heaven you were imagining.

After all, you weren’t even sure he still liked you.

As he sat in front of you, Hoseok observed your side profile while you stared out of the window, completely lost in your thoughts, your cheeks reddened because of the alcohol.

He was so whipped for you.

However, he knew the initial thrill would eventually fade and leave him with an adorable, beautiful young woman who could never own his heart or tend to his vulnerable side. It had happened so many times before that he was just waiting for his interest to die down.

Because right as he stared at your dreamy expression, he realised he would never lay a finger on you.

You were far too precious for him to sully you with his dirty paws and devilish ways.

With a sliver of sadness tainting his smile, he placed the cake in the middle, preparing two forks, one on your side and one on his.

“I’ve heard champagne is great with strawberries,” he commented, opening the bottle and awakening you from your daydream.

You blinked a few times. “Oh, just a little or I’ll end up dizzy,” you replied with a small smile. “This cake looks beautiful.”

“I hope you aren’t allergic to strawberries or dairy products,” he mused, lifting up his glass to clink it with yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated before answering his questions. “Luckily I don’t have any allergies. Usually I prefer eating fruit and vegetables, but I’m pretty cool with any kind of food.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hoseok replied before realising he’d better never see you again. You were too tempting, too pretty, too gentle and overall too attractive for someone like him. Chances were you would be a bit disappointed but would find a proper date within the next two weeks. Women like you were far too requested and treasured in a city like Seoul.

You were suitable from head to toe. You had a degree, a job, a place to yourself, you were accomplished. And then your innocent looks, your kind manners, the caring side he had the fortune of catching a glimpse of.

You would be taken in less than three weeks. He could tell.

It was a mystery to him how you were still single after eight months in the city.

He found the courage to look up from the dessert, only to regret it immediately.

Your mouth was wide open in an attempt to chomp on a huge strawberry, your lips rosy, your nose smeared with cream.

I shall not.

I cannot.

I should not.

He paused.

Fuck. I will.

He placed down his fork and stood to his feet, your eyes following him as he came to your side.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking at his stone-cold expression.

You put your fork down, staring back at him with concern.

His hand moved tentatively to your cheek, laying gently along your jaw.

Turning to him, you stared some more, your chest inflating and deflating rapidly and deeply — which was not lost on him.

Too afraid to look, you closed your eyes as he leaned down his thumb moving closer to your mouth, parted as you found it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Your whole world was dark and hot once his breath fanned over your face.

With overwhelming desire coursing through him, Hoseok stared at every single detail, drinking you in with eyes so hungry, like he could swallow every freckle, every mole, every bit of plump flesh and bony edge.

With his hand trembling slightly at the strange position, he dragged his thumb against the tip of your nose, collecting the cream smeared there.

Your eyes opened in surprise at the unanticipated motion, meeting his lowered eyelids, his lovely lashes making an appearance against the fair skin.

And then his thumb met your lips, covering them in sweetness.

“You had cream on your nose,” he said, his eyes never abandoning the curves of your lips.

Jung Hoseok knew he was a sinner already. But with heartbreaking realisation, he knew the next action would deem his fall.

His tongue slipped out of his mouth, guided by a need so deep he could barely control. With the worst intentions, he focused on touching you as little as possible, trying to scoop up the cream caught on the gentle petals of your lips.

What he didn’t expect was for your own tongue to slide out and brush against his.

From there, it was only ruination.

His tongue slid in your mouth, catching on all the flavours of the dessert. It was strawberries. Strawberries everywhere; your freckles, your hair, your shampoo, your dress, he was possessed by them, drowning in a forest of strawberry bushes growing all over him, climbing into his mouth and underneath his clothes.

“Hobi,” you called weakly as he let you go, your body shooting up on your feet as you tried to chase after his mouth, tried to have his arms around you.

He moaned and caught you, placing his forearm against your lower back and holding your cheek with the other. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “I promised myself I wouldn’t but you’re too hard to resist.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, kissing his jaw, trying to reach the underside of his ear. “Please.”

You tried to calm your breathing by inhaling deeply through your nose, which in retrospective was an awful move since his scent filled your lungs and all you could do was whine in reply, the sound ridiculous and embarrassing to your own ears.

“I’ll do bad things to you, honey. We should stop now,” he said, trying to be judicious.

“Please,” you begged again, rubbing your face against his neck, already trying to cover yourself in his perfume. “Just a kiss, please.”

Closing his eyes, he gave in, following the line of your neck, the sweet mole at the base, drawing your throat with the inner side of his lips.

“Hobi…” You whined once more before receiving a gentle tug at your hair.

“I’m getting there, don’t be impatient,” he growled, making your neck stretch backwards. Once more his tongue slipped out, drawing a line from the hollow between your collarbones all the way to your chin, stopping at your lower lip. “If you’re patient you get a reward, see? That’s how it works with me, sweetheart.”

He kissed your mouth, first delicately, tentatively, trying to feel you open up and give in.

Once you did, he locked your face against his with the hand of his nape, following your body as you walked backwards, reaching the sofa.

“What do you want to tell me, my pretty strawberry?” He teased once he allowed you to let go of him.

“Thank you.”

It was not what he expected, but it made his stomach churn with longing. He needed to please you more, give you more, just to hear those words again.

“You’re welcome, honey. Now, tell me. What do you want me to do, sweetie?” He watched as you sat on the carpet.

You remembered how soft it had felt earlier under your knees. “I wanna make out?” You asked, lashes batting. You didn’t want to sound eager.

“Just make out?” He asked, sitting down in front of you. There was no way he would allow you to blow him tonight.

You looked at him with sparkly eyes. He wanted to dive into them, to feel the magic they held glow inside his body. “Am I allowed to ask for more?” You questioned with the sweetest pout.

“You can ask me anything, honey.” He skimmed the skin of your jaw with the back of his fingers before feeling the hot curve of your neck under his palm.

“Would you think ill of me if I asked for more?”

He shook his head and smiled softly. He would never think ill of you. Not even if you asked him to fuck you for a whole audience of connoisseurs to stare. “You're my cute, little strawberry. I could never think lowly of you.” He cooed.

“What if I wanted you to… to fuck me?” You asked, biting your lip nervously before looking at him.

He thought about the consequences for maybe half a second. He felt awful because, at the end of all the reasoning he knew he would hoard you and every single ounce of pleasure he could coax out of your body.

“Are you sure you want that?” He asked, letting his hand follow the path between your breasts, down to your waist gripping your side.

You licked your lips and nodded. “I'll be so good to you.”

His grin was outright evil. “I know you will, baby.” He kissed your temple. “I need to go get protection if that's what you want. I'll give you a minute to think about it and if you still think so when I'm back, then we're gonna deal with your needy head, mh?”

You nodded, staring at him as he stood up, incapable of not studying his crotch where his cock was visibly tenting his loose trousers.

He chuckled as he watched you stare. “It'll be yours if you still want it later.”

Your eyebrows raised in disappointment as you watched him leave.

So… it was actually going to happen. Did you want it to happen?

What a stupid question! Yes. Of course.

You wanted him and it scared you and thrilled you at the same time.

His footsteps reached the room once more, disappearing once his feet touched the carpet.

“Okay. Here we go, sweetie. Are you still sure you want to have sex with me?” He asked, kneeling and moving your hair off your face, your head reaching his sternum from your seated position.

“Yes, I'm sure,” You confirmed curtly. “Please.”

Oh, to hear you beg. He could cum from that alone. It was intoxicating. And he wasn't even touching you. He could only imagine what sounds you would make once his cock would fill your cunt.

“You want the bedroom—”

“Here. Please.” You shut your eyes tight. You felt like an animal, willing to fuck wherever, and the immense temptation of feeling the plush carpet underneath your back, the city lights illuminating his skin…

Hoseok inhaled.

You were wilder than what you looked and such information aroused him immensely.

“Lay back, honey.” He murmured, extracting three small squares of foil from his pocket and laying them on the coffee table.

Slowly, you lowered your back to the carpet while he kneeled close to you, your legs rotating so that your feet laid right in front of his knees, your legs bent and pressed together.

“That's nice, ____. Lovely,” he said before placing his hands on your knees. “Would you like to spread your pretty legs for me?” He asked, his fingers sliding down your thighs, reaching the hem of the dress.

You looked adorable once you demurely parted your feet to offer him some space between your knees, the hem of the dress moving closer to your lap.

His legs slotted between your thighs and he bent down, reaching for your face. “Such a good girl,” he praised you, cooing once he noticed your cheeks redden. “So adorable.”

On all fours on top of you, you felt the unique shape of his mouth draw your throat before giving a lick. “I bet you taste like strawberries all over.” He started kissing down your chest, rubbing his cheek against your small breasts. “You make me feel like a man starved,” he continued, kissing your stomach, your abdomen, laying one small peck on the fabric covering your belly button.

“Hoseok,” you whined, feeling his hands around your hips.

He stopped brusquely, his body entirely leaving yours. “Now, now, sweetie. What did you just call me?”

You batted your lashes as you stared at him in confusion. “Hoseok.”

“Okay. If you want to have sex with me, honey, that name will not do.”

You stared at him some more.

“I’m Sir,” he affirmed sternly. “The moment you get wet between your legs, I become Sir to you, understood?”

You nodded quickly, breath and brain completely stolen out of you.

“No nodding, my cute berry. Either ‘yes, Sir’ or ‘no, Sir’. Let’s try again. Is it clear what you must call me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He grinned and kissed your belly again, just a bit lower. “That’s excellent. Well done, ____.”

You smiled and placed your hands on his hair, feeling the soft locks as he looked up at you.

He growled at that, your fingers naturally curling in fists as you brought them to your chest. “A very good girl indeed.”

You propped yourself up to your elbows once he lifted the skirt of your dress.

He could barely believe you. “Goodness.”

“At first I thought my dress was stuck on my underwear when you called me strawberry.”

Under the cutest, loveliest, most girlish dress he had ever seen, he was met by another adorable surprise. You were wearing a playful pair of ruffled panties in gingham print, with a small strawberry embroidered on your mound.

“You’re going to kill me,” he moaned, eyes closing before he dipped his head between your legs, studying the patch of wetness on the gusset of your panties, drawing a line from there to your clit, eliciting a moan. “You’re so sweet. And so evil at the same time.” He bit your inner thigh, making you wince. “Can’t believe that song predicted you on my carpet.”

You giggled and arched your hips against his face, your wetness meeting his cheek lewdly.

He inhaled you, completely intoxicated before he came back up, his arms caging your head. “You really rubbed yourself against my face, honey?” He asked with a stone cold expression.

You were afraid again, but that didn’t keep you pussy from clenching around nothing.

“Yes, Sir.” You replied, the respect in your voice nothing but a taunt.

“If you make a mess you gotta clean it, sweetie. Understood?” He asked, grabbing your face and angling his cheek to your mouth. “Clean it.”

“Please, Sir,” you mewled, trying to push your crotch against him, crying out once you noticed his body was too far away for you to find something to grind against.

“Clean after yourself. Now.”

You did as he told you, feeling the salty, bitter tang of your arousal transfer from his smooth skin to your tongue.

“All of it,” he muttered once you stopped after the first lick.

You completed your task, his pelvis lowering to yours as a reward. “There you go. Now thank me.”

Your arms moved around his torso, trying to get him closer, just to brush your chest against the soft, smooth satin of his shirt.

“I said, thank me.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You felt him cave immediately, giving you his hard and lithe body against your chest, your crotch, right in your arms as your legs wrapped around him. You felt crazy, grinding against him like a teenager, ridiculously reminded of how you used to go off by humping a pillow. “Please, inside,” you wailed, your sigh hitting his chest and disappearing underneath his shirt. Once you inhaled, his cologne felt like a bruising kiss, your hips meeting his harder, faster.

“You like my perfume?”

You nodded furiously.

Not again. He violently separated himself from you. “What did I tell you about replies?” He scolded you.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You looked down with repentance. “I like your perfume very much, Sir.”

“That’s right. Good girl. Now, after I praise you, thank me.” He pushed your dress up as his hand dragged heavily from your crotch to your throat.

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied obediently, watching as he got on his knees and tugged his trousers down, the white boxers underneath surprising you as they outlined his length perfectly.

“You want it out?” He asked, watching as you sat up straighter and licked your lips.

You were almost ready to nod when you caught yourself, Hoseok smiling proudly once he saw you correct your behaviour. “I want it out, Sir.”

“Excellent.”

He lowered his underwear too, his cock standing erect immediately, it fluttered even straighter once you kept looking, your hands touching your breasts needily.

Hoseok stretched to the coffee table, grabbing a condom and tearing the foil open, sliding the latex on quickly and firmly.

“My cute berry, I need you to be very careful about this. You know what a safeword is?”

You shook your head. “No, Sir.”

He momentarily covered himself, needing to get all your focus on his words. “Safewords are what you use to communicate with your partner in a BDSM scene. A safeword means that you don’t like what is going on and you want to slow down or stop. We will use the traffic lights system. If you say ‘yellow’, I will slow down, if you say ‘red’, I will let go of you entirely and help you recover from whatever it was that hurt you, mentally, emotionally or physically. On the other hand, ‘green’ means that you’re okay and you are ready to get back into the scene after a ‘yellow’. If I ask you your colour, you reply with those. All clear?”

“All clear, Sir.”

He grinned proudly. “Then explain to me how it works.”

“If I want to slow down, I call ‘yellow’. If I want to stop, I call ‘red’. If I’m all good, I call ‘green’ — Sir.” You added for good measure, knowing that one too many wouldn’t hurt for sure.

“That’s my good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled as he looked in your eyes. He knew he would remember you forever, even if he never developed any feelings for you. You were by far the most unique woman he’d ever had under him so far.

For a second he observed your cute, frilly undies, wondering if he wanted them off.

No.

He took his cock out of his underwear, letting the waistbands of his trousers and boxers rest on his mid-thigh.

“Wanna keep these pretty panties on.” He murmured once he laid on top of you. “Tell me if the elastic band hurts you.” He said, moving the gusset aside and testing your wetness with his fingers, spreading the slickness over your folds. “So fucking soft. Dammit. Can't wait.”

He dipped his head against your neck. “You want it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You placed your hands on the small of his back, his eyes closing as he relished in your touch.

“Beg for it.” He murmured, dragging the tip up and down your slit.

You rolled your eyes. “No, Sir.”

“You won't beg?” He asked, looking at you.

You pouted. “Why do you want me to beg?” You asked with a frown.

“I need to know you want me, my sweet berry,” he pouted back. He touched your face giving you a few kisses to convince you. “I want to hear your sweet voice saying 'please', just one more time,” he whispered, feeling merciful, especially after all the ways he had already pushed you.

Your will bent to his. “Please.”

And just like that, his tip entered your warm, tight cunt, a moan exiting his mouth. “Yes, yes, ____. Yes, baby,” he groaned, at which you responded with a mewl.

“Hobi…” You cried, squeezing around him once he bottomed out.

“Don't make me punish you,” he murmured, exhaling raspily. “You've been such a good girl. Don't get naughty.”

“Sir, please.”

He started snapping his hips out, slowly, then in again, one inch at a time, so deep and slow, over and over. “Yes, baby. Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels too good, Sir, I'm…”

He hummed in pleasure, feeling the skin of your neck under his lips. “Too good. My berry, you're so tiny and tight.” His hips trusted in quickly and unexpectedly.

“Holy… Sir, please, again, please.” You squealed, feeling his thumb slide your panties further aside to reach your clit.

He breathed out with effort against your ear as your mouth reached his earlobe. “Fuck, not there, Berry. Not there,” he said, tugging his ear out of your mouth.

“But Sir—,” you tried objecting before his pace became irresistible. While one hand reached the crown of his hair, holding him against you, the other one met his glute, your nails sinking in his flesh. Your breath started coming in short hiccups, leading you to your climax as he outright hammered into you, his back curved away while his forehead stayed glued to your neck.

“Am I fucking you right, ____? Is it good enough for my golden girl?” He growled once he felt you tightening around him more intensely, with longer squeezes.

“It's perfect, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” you reacted readily, shaking your head as pleasure started overpowering you, trying not to hurt him.

“Cum, my sweet berry. Show me.”

The hiccups of your breathing started turning in tiny whimpers, then squeals.

You were ready to bury your head in the ground and never come back because you knew what would come next.

The squeals turned into an uncontrolled cascade of giggles. Giggles.

Hoseok picked his head up at the curious sound, only to see your palm covering your mouth in an attempt to bottle the stupid reaction.

Hoseok smiled through gritted teeth, going faster, harder, deeper now that he understood that the sweet gurgling laugh was due to your orgasm peaking.

He pinned your hand away from your face, basking in the desperate joy of your bliss before he felt himself ready to blow.

“I'm gonna slide out now,” he warned, making sure that your high had faded and your body laid limp and drained underneath him.

Your body relaxed against the carpet, your eyes closed, your lungs still working hysterically to give you back some oxygen after the ruthless fit of giggles. You whimpered once you felt him pull out.

“Look at me, honey,” he called, making you prop your upper back on your elbows as you looked down, only to be met by the sight of Hoseok slipping off the condom. “Let me cum on your cute panties, mh? Can I? I promise I'm clean, I can show you the—”

“Do it,” you replied, giving him official permission.

“Really?”

“Really— I mean, yes, Sir.”

He smirked and started pumping himself furiously, his expression frantic as his tip pressed to your mound and he came apart, his hot seed drenching the red and white cotton, an animalistic growl making his whole chest shake.

You welcomed him in your arms once he collapsed on top of you, right hand smeared in slickness. “I’m gonna call you Giggles.” He said, kissing your mole, the precise spot where he could feel your blood run underneath the skin, the hollow just under your earlobe. “It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

You felt your whole body blush. “It’s so stupid but I can’t stop it.”

“Don’t stop it, it’s adorable.” He sniffed at your hair, “you still smell like strawberries.”

“Must be my shampoo.”

“Fuck. So good.” He sniffed some more. “I thought it would kill me earlier, by the fridge.”

“I thought you would kill me.” You said, feeling his neck with your lips. “Your perfume might be aphrodisiac.”

“You’re too tempting.” He chuckled. “I might need another round.”

“I can’t believe you actually fucked me on your living room carpet.” You said, combing his hair as he still regained his energies.

“Aren’t you happy?” He asked, suddenly panicked.

“No, I mean. I’m… I’m really happy. I’m just… incredulous that this is happening to me.” You replied with a surprised laugh.

“Maybe I should give it another go to make sure you actually understand what’s happening.”

“Would you mind helping me understand on the dinner table?” You batted your lashes cutely and paired that with an angelic smile.

“Are you even real?” He touched your face with his clean hand, giving you an inquisitive look. “You appear, all cute and innocent and then you want me to get you all dirty and filthy?”

Your smile widened. “The other ones were a bit scared by this side of me.”

“I won’t be scared of your needs, Giggles.”

You blushed again and hid your face.

“No hiding,” he reprimanded before rolling on his side, leaving you some room to obey the orders he was about to give you. “Keep giving me those sweet giggles,” he said, tracing your belly with his fingertips before trying to tickle you.

The effect was immediate. You clenched your legs and slapped his hands away from you, the torturing sound parting from your lips in a series of childlike gurgles. “Stop! I’m gonna mess up!” You screamed, trying not to stain your dress or the carpet. “No! No! Wait! Yellow!”

At that he took his hands off you immediately, your body laying on your back breathless.

“You good, Giggles?” He asked, voice drenched with worry.

You nodded, still panting.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He questioned, watching you move your head in confirmation.

“Okay.” He looked at your dress, trying to find a zipper. “Should I—”

“Start with my underwear, please?” You asked, your breath laboured due to arousal rather than exhaustion.

He nodded and licked his lips as he slowly tugged your panties down, careful about keeping his release from touching the carpet or your legs. Once the garment unhooked from your ankles, he folded it carefully to keep the wet fabric tucked in.

“Kneel, Giggles.”

You followed his command blindly, watching as your hands slid up under your skirt and tugged your dress up, his palms meeting your ribs and dragging the fabric upwards, past your breasts, then up against your armpits and backwards to your shoulder-blades, slipping the the neckline past your head.

Dress off, he let it fall distractedly to the floor, his eyes going from your face, to your hair, to your nipples — sinfully rosy — following the line leading from your breastbone to your belly button. He kissed the first piece of skin that met his lips, someplace where his heartbeat felt like a drum, like the bass coming from an old boom box. It was so comforting in a way he barely understood.

He needed room to think. “Get on the table.” His voice was once more stern and distant, especially once you watched him grab the opened foil containing the tied up condom, then stand up and leave.

You followed his direction nonetheless, standing awkwardly by the table, watching the cake and stealing a strawberry since the orgasm had awakened a certain sweet tooth in you. You dipped the strawberry in cream and brought it to your lips, relaxing just a little after you heard the water run in the kitchen.

He was probably washing his hands.

You took you time licking up the cream, only to start chomping down on the incredibly large fruit right after. That’s when Hoseok appeared.

He was shirtless now, the garment dangling from his spindly fingers before he laid it neatly against the back of the couch. You stopped mid-bite.

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt your snack, go on, honey.” He licked his lips and gave you a steamy look before going to the table and pocketing the condoms left. “Is it good?” He asked, walking to stand right in front of you.

You felt slightly unnerved as he seemed completely indifferent to your naked body.

“Sit on the table,” he ordered

You frowned and hesitated.

At that, he let his hands hover over your hips. “Shall I help you with it?” He asked, giving you the chance to avoid his touch before laying his fingertips delicately on your skin. “Gimme a colour, Giggles.”

“Maybe yellow.” You bit your lip, insecurity getting the best of you.

He moved his hands to your face, suddenly turning comforting. “Quick tip, my pretty berry.” He caressed your face in a way that made you feel way too at ease. “If it’s a ‘maybe yellow’, then it’s a yellow. How can I help you, ____?”

Your real name made you come down to earth. You shook your head and looked away, Hoseok suddenly scared of having gone too far.

“I’m not comfortable with the way I let you control me, maybe.” Which was not entirely true. You were not comfortable with the way you craved his control after spending maybe four hours with him — including the afternoon he entered the vet studio with Mickey in his arms and a hopeless, lost look on his face.

“It’s all up to you, ____. I know it’s a cliché thing to say, but the answer is really within yourself. I can’t make you more comfortable with how you feel,” he said, still not even considering your nakedness in front of him.

In such a moment his indifference was welcome.

You looked down, your hands disappearing into your hair. Maybe this was the only night you were granted. Did you really want it to end already?

He did not touch you as you mulled over every option.

“I’m… I’m not— We’re technically strangers, I shouldn’t be trusting you like this, you shouldn’t be trusting me like this either, I mean this is all so— all so twisted and wicked and fast and—”

Hoseok was ready for reality to slap him across the face. He was ready for your regrets and you walking to your dress on the floor and cursing your messed up panties which you most definitely could not wear to go back home. He was ready for you to call what you did a mistake and say that there was no way for a woman like you to be with a man like him.

“My mind tells me I shouldn’t, but I want it so much.”

He lifted his eyes from the floor, finally finding the courage to meet yours.

“I’m sorry, that’s not true. I’m comfortable with the way you control me.” Slowly you took a step back, your ass meeting the surface of the table. “I’m just questioning what that means to me.”

He nodded. It explained a lot about your innocent, greedy approach to sex. You were exploring and you had found something you didn’t expect to even remotely consider.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and sat on the table. “No, Sir.”

His eyebrows shot up before he regained his composure. “Colour.”

You allowed yourself to stare at his chest. He was so well-built. Harmonious. He looked like a painting. “Green. Very deep, dark green. Sir.”

He took a step closer. “Green?”

“Forest green. As green as a clover.” You felt his hand on your belly, dragging against your skin all the way to your throat, pushing you down as you lowered yourself on your elbows.

“If you feel uncomfortable emotionally or mentally speaking, you call a yellow. Please, promise me you’ll be very careful about it, Giggles. I care about your mindspace. It means everything to me.”

“I promise, Sir.”

He removed his hand from your throat and placed it against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss on your lips once he bent over you. “You’re talking to Hoseok right now, ____. Promise me you’ll keep an eye on how your mind’s doing. Promise it.”

You kissed him back, closing your eyes once his tongue caressed and molded against yours. Breathless, you parted from him. “I promise, Hobi.”

“I don’t want you to regret anything about tonight. It would break my heart, okay?”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you nodded. “I’ll take care. I promise.”

“Good girl. Now stay right there, lovely. Look what I got for you.” He found the cake, placed carefully away from your laying body. Skillfully, he dipped a strawberry in cream and brought it to your lips, dragging the tip of the fruit across them like lipstick.

He bent down and licked a fat stripe following the seam of your mouth, only to repeat the gesture once more; however, this time you let your tongue lash out and tangle up with his, the strawberry held away from you, trying not to catch it in your hair.

“Open up,” he commanded, pushing the treat past your lips, into your eager mouth. “Suck. Now.”

Your gaze became bubbly once more as you followed his lead, your cheeks sucked in at the pressure you were making with your mouth, the strawberry emerging completely clean from your mouth.

He smirked at the sigh, arching an eyebrow at the result. “You make it hard not to push my cock in your mouth.”

“Maybe that’s what I want you to do.” You raised an eyebrow right back at him, getting cocky.

“Not happening. I wanna hear that laugh again, Giggles.” Tentatively, he gave a small slap to your breast, surprising you and making you arch your back, gasping in pleasure. Your legs tightened around him, trying to clench your thighs shut at the feeling of arousal slipping out of your hole and sliding down to your behind. “And don’t you dare be a brat to me. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your voice was squeaky once you managed to reply.

“Did you like it, Giggles?”

The treacherous sound escaped your mouth once more as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir.”

You wondered if you would ever get tired at the reply. You doubted it very highly.

“Let’s see if you like this too,” he mused before pouring more champagne in a glass and dipping the strawberry in the wine. He fixed his stance between your legs. “Remember our safewords?”

You confirmed before he lifted the strawberry and let a droplet fall right in the middle of your chest, splashing heavy and wet on your skin. Cold too.

“I’m going to make you my dessert, my pretty strawberry. Remember? Strawberries go well with champagne, lovely.”

He let one more drop fall to your breast, your breath stopping completely at the coldness, Hoseok’s eyes amused at the sight of your nipple awakening and hardening, lengthening even. It became impossibly rosier as another drop fell.

It felt stupid not to repeat the same treatment to your other nipple, which responded twice as quickly now that arousal was abundantly flowing through every single inch of you.

The strawberry drew a neat line of champagne pearls from your belly, which you sucked in at the cold, all the way up to your neck — a line that Hoseok followed with his mouth, letting his tongue stretch out of the way whenever a droplet rolled out of place.

He let the strawberry fall into the glass, extracting the condoms from his pocket and placing them on the table before taking off the rest of his clothes. He tugged at himself a couple times, getting hard enough to wear a condom.

His hands were going to get dirty, therefore he had no other options than getting ready very quickly.

“Giggles?”

“Yes? I mean, yes, Sir?” You corrected yourself in a millisecond, not wanting to risk another delay in your pleasure.

“I’m going to get really dirty now, lovely. Would you be okay with showering here?”

You let your lashes flutter a few times before nodding.

He gave a curt nod in reply before wearing protection and letting his cock rub against your crotch. His body stretched over yours, his thumb collecting a dollop of cream and dividing it with his other thumb. You observed his movements attentively as his clean fingers laid against the side of your breasts and his thumbs landed on your nipples.

Your mouth opened silently once the sensation flowed in, his digits starting a rolling motion over your peaks, playing them in small circles that innocently reminded you of a joystick.

“Colour.”

“So, so green. Can I have a blue for mind blowing good.” You tried to pick your head up, letting it thud back down once his cock dragged perfectly against your clit, eliciting a purr from your throat and a groan from his, his sex perfectly sandwiched between your and his belly.

“Blue— I— ” He talked in small babbles and hiccups. “I get what you— ah— what you mean.” His forehead met your collarbone.

He found unspeakable strength and managed to rise from your breasts, collecting half a handful of cream spreading it over his entire palms and fingers like lotion before grabbing your breasts and kneading them, his hands dwarfing them entirely.

“Sir, please, I need your cock,” you found yourself ridiculously begging, ready to hump anything that met your core.

“Slip it in for me, Giggles.”

The moment he got inside, you didn’t even try to keep it down, riding him no matter the difficult position or the awkward angle. You let your hands scratch down his chest and grip his arms — and he allowed you.

You were getting more and more unhinged and he wanted to see every little detail, every little second, every single step that brought you to bliss and ruination, giggling like you’d never been half as ecstatic in your life. His hands slipped and groped your gentle curves, his mind growing hazier by the second.

All his control came back once he noticed your legs leaving the ground, as you scooted back just by a few inches, your calves latching behind his back before you shook your head.

“What?” He asked, bending his arms to get closer to you.

“Position. It’s…” The soles of your feet met the edge of the table, your hands securing your legs in position before you felt your hips hurt.

“Bend them to your shoulders,” he suggested, helping you fix your knees with his elbows. “Good. Can you touch yourself for me, Giggles.”

You obeyed without even replying, feeling him groan as the new position allowed him to reach deeper and rub your g-spot in the process.

That’s when the squealing started. And then there it was, pleasure. Right before you.

“Give me all the giggles, my sweet berry,” he cooed, nodding and smiling once the soft laugh started.

He let himself grow wild, his fingers sliding to your neck, gripping it gently before he led them against your chin and into your mouth, bathing your tongue in cream — or rather, what was left of it.

The other hand secured your waist, using it for leverage as he rammed into you, pushing his cock in your cunt, constricting it after the muscles remained tense after the orgasm.

This time he came inside you, still covered in latex, but inside you.

He was too fucked out to think of how you would feel without a condom, too fucked out to care that he was pressing his mouth — fuck, his entire face — against your dirty chest, getting his hair sticky with cream, his cheeks and chin and nose and eyes and forehead… His mouth welcomed the sweetness, sucking at your skin before his tongue came out to lap at the sugary mess. He was too lost to care, sinking deep and staying perfectly still as he enjoyed every second of his high inside your most intimate place.

You came to your senses just in time to watch him process the situation he was in.

“Oh, hell.” He rose from the table, standing up, looking at you, at his hands, running the back of them against his cheeks before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He settled down again, your legs wrapping around him.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, rubbing your palm against his spine.

He hummed in confirmation. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” You mussed up the hair at his nape.

He licked up your nipple, catching it with his lips and suctioning it into his mouth.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the cuddles. From the exhaustion radiating from his body and the overall disaster you both were, you knew your night was over.

“Can I go clean up please? It’s getting chilly.” You asked, using the excuse to get some space to yourself.

He stood slowly, slipping out of you attentively. He took off the condom, completely lost in his silence, knotted it up and kept it carefully between his fingers as he slipped on his underwear. “Let me show you the bathroom.”

Once he showed you the way, you let him understand you didn’t want him to shower with you.

Feeling the scent of his body wash cover your skin was painful now. You tried to indent the name in your mind and hoped it wasn’t too expensive. Once you managed to exit the shower stall, you dabbed your body dry, realising too late that you hadn’t brought your dress with you.

You wrapped the towel around you and opened the door, walking out once you were sure you wouldn’t drip over the floor.

“Hoseok?” You called.

Once you reached the living room, you found your dress, slipping it on and realising a second too late that your panties had disappeared.

“Giggles?” Hoseok appeared from the corridor, still shirtless, with a pair of bermuda on.

“Uhm… I should… Go, I guess?” You said, staring at the floor awkwardly. “I…”

Hoseok felt fear grip him once he thought this could be the last time he would see you.

“Wait. I—” He stretched his hand toward you. “I think— Uhm, underwear. Since I messed up yours.” He rubbed his nape. “I could wash your… panties and return them to you… Next Friday?” He looked up at you with a sheepish smile. “Over fried chicken and a chill dress code?”

Your cheeks shot up as you felt yourself smile. “So this is not a one time thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

You nodded, increasingly convinced.

You gingerly wore his boxers, noticing they were relatively comfortable on you, the cotton breezy and light, definitely soft over your abused skin. “Then I’ll return these on Friday. Over fried chicken and chill dress code. And maybe my peach frilly undies?”

“It’s a deal then, Giggles.”

“Deal.”

#jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x yn #hoseok smut #jhope smut #thetruthuntoldnet #houseofddaeng #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub

107 notes · View notes

atsunflower · 4 years ago

Text

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending.

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair.

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked."

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating.

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

124 notes · View notes

jaxl-road · 5 years ago

Text

The League of Extraordinary Rockstars, ch.2

Summary: LA is a hub for music and mutants, making it the perfect place for Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, and countless other mutant musicians to call home. But it’s not all easy, especially when it comes to finding a decent place to live. So what better solution than moving in together in the mansion of an immortal? Love, drama, and super powers. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.

Chapter Warnings: Language, genderswap!Steven

AN: This is a collaboration between myself and @the–blackdahlia! It combines elements from her fic “It’s So Easy (And Other Lies)” (specifically her genderswapped!Steven) and my super powered GnR series. It is completely AU and ignores timelines like Woah, but hopefully you’ll have as much fun reading it as we’re having writing it! Let us know what you think!

~~~~~

It had been a couple weeks since Duff moved in with Slash and Stevie and in that time, he had sat on Slash probably a dozen times.

Stevie had mentioned before how most of the time Slash would camouflage in his sleep, but it was still hard to get used to. He would come home after a double shift and go to collapse on the couch only to land on a very disgruntled guitar player.

“Goddammit, can’t you fucking check before throwing yourself on the couch?”

“Can’t you go to sleep in your fucking room?!” Duff snapped back.

Slash wanted to rip his hair out. He had to grind his teeth together to keep from screaming about the number of times he’s had to deal with a drunken Stevie stumbling into his room to bawl about how she had too much love and too many crushes and they didn’t like her back and she was going to die alone. And because he was a fucking good friend, he would pet her head and try to soothe her until she finally fell asleep and he was stuck with a snoring glowstick lighting up his room.

So yes, he had been sleeping on the couch. But because, and he could not stress this enough, he was a good fucking friend, he couldn’t explain to Duff exactly why.

Living together was turning out to be a hell or an adjustment for the three rockers. Duff had shaken up their routine, giving them an extra person to get drunk with, which made Stevie’s already frazzled emotions even more haywire, not to mention the household hangovers they were suffering through each morning. It was easy with Tracii. He stayed out all night and slept all day, and honestly, Slash and Stevie had kinda felt sorry for him. But Duff was something different, and after one too many mornings of being awoken by Duff and Slash arguing, Stevie exploded.

“Enough!” She yelled at them. “I am going to stay the night someplace else so I can get some fucking sleep before work!”

That was three days ago, and this was the first night Duff and Slash had seen their roommate since she stormed out. Walking into the apartment, Stevie was pleased to see that the two boys looked properly chastised. Granted, their arguing hadn’t improved much during her three day exile, but Slash and Duff figured she didn’t need to know that.

"Hi boys," she smiled. "It’s a beautiful day. Aside from the freak thunderstorm yesterday," She flopped on the couch.

"Thought you moved out," Slash grumbled.

"Nonsense. I just stayed the night at Kelly's."

“Oh thank GOD,” the guitarist practically threw himself across Stevie’s lap, “I thought you were leaving forever!”

Duff shuffled over sitting next to her and looking very much like a kicked puppy, “You were gone for so long we didn’t think you were coming back and we missed you so much-”

“Holy shit you guys,” Stevie shook her head fondly, patting Slash’s head, “I was gone for three days! I just needed a long weekend away from your bickering-”

“He started it!” Two voices snapped simultaneously.

Eyebrow twitching in thinly veiled annoyance, Stevie grit her teeth and continued, “Whatever, my point is I need your arguments to at least be rescheduled to later in the day, alright?”

There was some minor grumbling.

"If you don't, Kelly's looking for a roommate. Or a fuck buddy that gets a free room." She smirked. She knew that would get them to chill out. "Now, I'm hungry. And I'm going to see a show tonight. You guys gonna join me?"

“Of course, but I gotta go to work,” Duff told her. “I’ll see you guys this evening.” He headed to his room to pull on his uniform, something nagging him in the back of his mind. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he tried to focus on making it through another shift at a job he hated.

The three roommates went to their various shitty jobs, each feeling impatient for the day when their music would finally pay the bills and they would have to deal with huffy customers telling them to cut their hair. Needless to say, by the time they reached the Whiskey for the show they were ready to let loose and have some fun. Tonight Motley Crue had managed to snag a headlining slot, Duff, Slash, and Stevie toasting their friends’ success and lamenting their own band’s slow growth in equal measure.

“We’re gonna make it, guys!” Stevie exclaimed, people around her moving away or shielding their eyes as she glowed with enthusiasm. She waved her empty glass excitedly, slurring slightly, “I mean, I mean the crowds have been getting wild for us! And the stuff we’ve recorded is fucking badass! It’s only a matter of time before we start bringing in the big bucks!”

“God, I hope so,” Slash sighed, “this starving artist shit is getting old.”

"Guess you could catch and eat a snake," someone said. Stevie turned and smiled.

"Kelly!" She gave him a hug.

"Hey glowstick," Kelly laughed. "You look rested."

"I am. Thank you." She kissed his cheek.

Duff smiled tensely as he gave Kelly a high five, “Hey man.”

Slash rolled his eyes as Kelly shot him a knowing look, grinning, “Sup guys. Word on the street is you’re having some domestic troubles,” he elbowed Stevie playfully, “This gal was lighting up the place when she first came over.”

“Yeah,” Duff grimaced as he admitted, “It’s taking some getting used to.”

“I can imagine,” Kelly raised an eyebrow. The first night Stevie had arrived on his doorstep he’d had to wear sunglasses as she ranted and raved and lamented about the whole situation, “I mean, you’ve all got annoying ass powers-” he ignored the three offended outcries, “-and you live in a shoebox. Of course you’re stepping on each others’ toes.”

"At least we don't have axl…" slash pointed out.

"Don't have me for what?" Axl said as he approached the group, Baz's arm around his shoulder.

"In our shoebox home," Stevie told him.

“Excuse you, I am a goddamn delight and any house would be lucky to have me!” the singer huffed.

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Baz grinned.

"When you yell, you'd blow down a wall…" Slash commented.

“Fuck you, my control is impeccable!” Axl growled and Kelly raised his hands before a fight could break out.

"Let's get some drinks," he told them. "I'm buying."

"My hero," Stevie laughed. Kelly had an arm around her waist. Izzy was sitting at a booth, which Kelly spotted and brought everyone over to him.

Raising his head, Izzy nodded in greeting, “Hey guys, here to see the Crue?” he gestured at the stage where Nikki was, as usual, on fire.

Laughing, Stevie slid into the booth next to him, “Yup! What are you doing over here all by your lonesome?”

“Brooding,” Axl, Baz, and Slash all answered simultaneously.

Glaring, Izzy huffed, “I was enjoying some peace for once in my life, fuck you very much.”

"Maybe later," Stevie giggles, making Izzy's cheeks burn bright red.

"Their act is lame," Axl rolled his eyes. "Fire again? Really?"

“I mean, you gotta respect their commitment to the brand,” Slash shrugged.

The group downed their drinks, bickering and joking and occasionally remembering to cheer for the Crue. Before they knew it, the set was finishing up, Stevie shining extra bright as they applauded the band as they left the stage.

Izzy glanced between Stevie and Duff with forced nonchalance, “So, how’s the living situation going?”

Shrugging, Stevie answered, “Getting better I guess. Duff’s still not used to Slash camouflaging with the couch,” she snickered.

Duff threw his arms in the air in exasperation, “Gee, I’m sorry I’m used to living in places where you don’t have to pat down every surface in case there’s a hidden guitarist there!”

“Apology accepted,” Slash grinned, the bassist shoving him as he laughed.

“Ugh, I just can’t wait until we can have some more space,” Stevie groaned, “I love you guys, but fuck man, some elbow room would be nice.”

Izzy, Axl, and Baz, nodded their heads sympathetically, their own living situations only marginally better than the trio’s. Meanwhile, Kelly hummed in consideration.

“You could always stay at my place for awhile if you want,” he shrugged.

Stevie giggled, slapping a hand over her mouth when she saw the group squint from her light, “Kelly,” she patted his shoulder, “that’s sweet of you dude, but you live in a shitty studio apartment in the slums. Just having me over was a stretch.”

“No, no,” Kelly shook his head, “I meant my other place.”

Silence stretched as six pairs of eyes stared at Kelly in confusion.

“....What?” Slash finally broke the silence.

“You know, my other place,” Kelly said casually, “the one on Mulholland?” When the stares continued, he furrowed his brows, “Have I never mentioned it before?”

“No,” Duff answered emphatically, “No you have not. What the Fuck?”

“Huh.” It was maybe a little annoying sometimes, but it wasn’t Kelly’s fault he couldn’t remember who he’d told what to. After all, the bassist was more or less immortal, his mutant healing factor fucking with his aging until he found himself stuck as a twenty-something for God only knew how long. So if his memory was a little sketchy, well, who could blame him?

The drugs and alcohol probably didn’t help either. But that was besides the point.

“Well, yeah. I have another place. It’s a house, got like, eleven bedrooms if I’m remembering correctly? It’s also got-”

“Woah, woah, woah, dude,” Baz waved his hands, “Hold up. Did you just say eleven bedrooms?”

“Give or take,” he shrugged.

“So…. it’s a mansion,” Axl stated, voice unnervingly blank, “You have a mansion.”

“I guess, yeah…”

As Axl sucked in a long, deep breath, Kelly realized that he had made a huge mistake.

“WHAT?!” It was honestly impressive how Axl managed to shriek at ear splitting levels without any of his mutant ability coming through. Still, even his human-level screeching had the group flinching.

The singer slammed his hands on the table, glasses shaking as he glared at Kelly in shock and fury, “You’re telling me that we’ve all be living on top of each other in fucking sqalor and this whole time you’ve had a goddamn mansion?”

“Who has a mansion?”

Kelly would give anything for Sebastian’s ability to teleport right now. Because when he turned around, he found the members of Motley Crue staring at him hungrily, and he suddenly felt like he was surrounded by hyenas.

He probably should have waited until it was just him and Stevie before mentioning the house.

"Uh, hi guys," Kelly laughed. "What brings you here?"

"You have a mansion and didn't tell us?" Tommy pouted. "I thought you loved us."

"Dude the 60s fucked my brain. I can't remember shit," Kelly laughed.

"Which 60s?" Vince smirked.

"Yes." Kelly nodded, dodging the question. "So, I'm just gonna go…"

He was half standing when Duff’s unfairly long arm shot out from across the table, palm landing solidly against the back of the booth to box Kelly in.

“Oh I think the fuck not,” he stated firmly, a quick rumble of thunder sounding through the dirty window behind him. The dramatic motherfucker.

“Yeah, you’re not getting away that easily,” Tommy laughed as he and his bandmates dragged some chairs over to sit around the booth, adding another layer of defense to keep Kelly trapped, “Come on man, I wanna know more! Like, dude, if you’ve got a legit place, why aren’t you living there?”

Sighing in resignation, Kelly settled back in his seat and shrugged, “I dunno, I just like being closer to the action I guess,” he smirked, “It gets annoying having to drive twenty minutes just to get some pussy.”

“What, none of your fancy ass neighbors cut it?” Vince teased.

“I mean, there was one dude I used to hook up with, but that was in the… 30s I think? I dunno, all I know is he, like most of my neighbors, aren’t exactly at an age that can… keep up with me,” he winked mischievously as the group snickered.

Slash shook his head, “Dude, I get that, but personally I give fuck all about the age demographic, you’ve actually got a decent fucking roof, man!”

“I mean there’s the commute into the Strip, too, y’know?” Kelly argued.

“Oh no, how will I survive the commute?” Baz whined sarcastically, sticking his tongue out when Kelly flipped the teleporter off.

"It needs a lot of work," Kelly added. "Like weeds and shit and…"

"Dude, we have a gardener," Nikki motioned to Vince.

"And spiders?" Kelly pointed out.

"I'll feed them to my snake...that I most definitely do not have…" Slash's eyes darted to Stevie quickly before glancing away again.

"Can we at least see it?" Stevie asked. "You know how much I love decorating."

"Please no kiss posters in the living room," Mick groaned.

“Why do you hate art?” Stevie pouted jokingly.

Meanwhile, Kelly sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not getting out of this one am I?”

A chorus of “no”s answered him.

Rolling his eyes, Kelly threw his hands up in defeat, “Fine, I guess I can show you around sometime this week. What’s the worst that could happen?”

At that moment, loud, ominous cracks of thunder and lightning rattled the windows behind them. The group snapped to look at Duff in exasperation. The blonde bassist merely shrugged.

“What? Am I wrong?”

#THE PLOT THICKENS #Guns n Roses #gnr #motley crue #Skid row #LA Guns #fem!Steven #duff mckagan #slash #izzy stradlin #axl rose #sebastian bach #kelly nickels #mick mars #Nikki Sixx #tommy lee #Vince Neil #my writing #other people's writing

55 notes · View notes

looselucy · 6 years ago

Photo

Us & Them

April 14th It was 9am, and Chloe had been talking my ear off for the past 45 minutes, gabbing down the phone about something or nothing and absolutely anything.

“And literally, it has only been a matter of weeks since I said to Libby, we need to go to a city soon or something because we need to get laid, and she was like nah, and now I know why. She was already getting laid. Louis was laying her.” “He was.” I giggled. “Do you think he’s good in bed?” “Can’t say I’ve ever really thought about it.” “Really? I think about what everyone would be like in bed. Girls included.” She told me. “I think Louis is one of those who isn’t much special until he gets to know your body, then he’s well good.” “What do you think I’d be like?” I sniggered. “Slow and sexy.” “Awh, thanks Chloe!” “Lin goes like a rabbit for hours. Libby probably likes kinky shit. Niall is up for anything. Harry is hard but passionate. I mean, he’s a self-defence teacher and an artist. I bet that juxtaposition is an absolute treat.” Due to how spot on her description of what Harry would be like in bed was, I genuinely started pondering over just how accurate her other predictions were. I was blushing, rolling over on my bed to stare up to the ceiling. “Mm, I bet.” I bit my lip. “Whoever gets to find out is a lucky girl.” “Tell me about it.” She groaned. “Hey, what’s the plan tonight? It’s Harry’s birthday, right?” I was still surprised by how things had played out in terms of us knowing about Harry’s work and his secret coming to light. He’d been so composed and laidback about all of it, so understanding and almost humorous. He’d opened his sessions up again the following Wednesday on the 10th, followed by our weekly trip to The Tin Mouse, and even when they’d all grilled him and gotten excited, he’d been so fine about all of it! I suppose he really had expected at least one of us to have known for longer anyway; it wasn’t unfamiliar to him, having people know about his work. It wasn’t like all the stuff with his family, which was private and his own to share. His career had opened doors and broken down walls and left him exposed in ways that couldn’t be reversed, and he seemed to understand that. His work was a spectacle in ways his private life needn’t be. It was different. In a strange and unpredictable way, it actually seemed as though he felt better for us all knowing, as though a weight had been lifted. Maybe him being back in Rosebury was a big contribution to it, but over the past week or so, it felt like it was the happiest I had ever seen him. He was beginning to open up in ways I hadn’t foreseen, slowly stitching the pieces of his life together to create something whole. I was sure even a few short months earlier he wouldn’t have even thought to tell us about his birthday, but he’d been excited and planned an evening to celebrate. He was doing so unbelievably well. I was ridiculously proud of him and how wonderful he’d been about everyone knowing. He was more interested in the news about Louis and Libby than anything else. “He’s forced Gina to get the karaoke out,” I confirmed. “So it’s a night at The Royal Rose for us.” “Brilliant, what’re we singing?” “You’ll have to get me really bloody drunk to make me sing.” “Happy to do just that. Me, you and Libby could be Destiny’s Child.” “OR, the Bee Gees!” “That’s the spirit!” There was a knock on my door, and I had to make an educated guess that it would be Harry. All he’d said was to keep my day free, and I imagined it would be a day in bed before a night in the pub. It sounded perfect to me. “Okay, I gotta go! I’ll see you tonight though.” “See you to-Night Fever.” She blurted, sounding rather proud of herself. “Also, by the way, I’m very loving but feisty in the bedroom, in case you wanted to know.” “I didn’t, but thank you.” “Can you confirm if I’m right about what you’re like in bed? How deep is your love, Alfie?” “Goodbye, Chloe!” As soon as I’d hung up I leapt to my feet, scuttling over to the door, eager to see Harry again. It had been less than 12 hours since I’d last seen him, but after a night sleeping in our own beds it somehow felt like a lifetime. I’d been up early that morning to get some basics done in the shop with Louis since we weren’t opening that day, and I’d made the decision not to stay at Harry’s the night before, a decision I regretted rather quickly. I swung the door open, practically jumping with glee over the sight of him, about to grab his face and kiss the life out of him, but he didn’t give me the chance. He snaked around my side, standing behind me and putting his hands over my eyes, holding his body close to mine. “Harry,” I cried. “What’re you doing?” “Clearly, it’s a surprise.” He leaned to my ear, trying to waddle the two of us forward and lead me out the door and down the stairs. “Wait, what? It’s your birthday. Surely I should be the one surprising you.” I tripped almost instantly. “Shit, fuck, couldn’t this have waited until after we’d tackled the stairs?” “That’s not as fun. Less risky.” “That sounds so much better to me.” “Careful, there’s a step there!” I was appalled by how unfamiliar I seemed with my own home, Harry having to yank me back to him so I didn’t go tumbling down the flight of stairs leading outside. I could feel his body jittering as he held me back, the two of us already in fits of laughter at my inexcusably weak attempt to manage even the first step. He kept my eyes covered as he rested his head against the side of mine, and we were already tittering so much I didn’t think I’d ever be able to manage the rest of the stairs. “Guide me better!” I howled. “They’re fucking steps, they’re not that complicated!” “Fine, fuck you, I’m going.” I took a steady stride, gradually beginning to move downwards. “Happy Birthday, by the way.” “Thank you, boss.” “I’m scared. Should I be scared?” “It’s a good surprise, I promise.” “Still scared.” “Don’t be.” We reached the bottom of the stairs much quicker than I’d been expecting, trying to take another step down which wasn’t even there, which made me stumble forward again, the whole endeavour much messier than it should have been. We took a few steps outdoors before Harry halted, bringing us to a standstill. My stomach was in knots. “Ready?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, but that didn’t stop him from lifting his hands off my eyes. I burst into tears the second he had. Because standing right in front of me, on the gravel beside my car, was my dad, my mum, and a rather timid looking nurse stood behind them, watching us with a smile on her face. He’d gotten them back to Rosebury. After almost five long years, he’d gotten them to come home. Both of them. I slapped my hands against my mouth, gripping my eyes shut, and I just stood there in floods of tears. I didn’t have the capacity to do anything else, all I could do was weep. It was so absurd and overwhelming that I couldn’t make sense of it, the fact they were both actually there, stood right ahead of me. It had been so many years, and for so many months I’d been trying to encourage my father to come back, if only for a day or two, but the fact it was actually happening was preposterously peculiar. My dad took a few steps forward and took me into his arms, telling me it was okay, to stop being silly and stop crying, how happy he was to be back, to see me again. I was floored.

“He paid for all of it.” My dad whispered across the table, nodding towards Harry, who was stood ordering our food at the counter in PJ’s. “The nurse, our journey here. He got us a medical van, just in case anything goes wrong. He paid for all of it.” I looked over my shoulder, watching Harry chatting freely with the owner Paula and the nurse, who I’d learnt was called Helen and wanted to give us as much alone time for the day as she possibly could whilst always being around to help my mother if needs be. “How did…” I turned back to face my parents. “Why did… When did he sort this?” “He got in touch with me last week. Had it all planned out, made it as easy as it possibly could be. Kinda made it impossible to say no. Not that I wanted to but, it’s just always seemed so out of reach before.” I didn’t quite know what to say or think or even feel. I couldn’t fathom him going to all that effort on my behalf, the amount of money he would have spent, the care, the kindness. All of it. My eyes flicked to the side to gage my mother, and it must have been so long since she was last out of that home, and I totally understood why my dad had been so worried about it, but even though she was quiet and a little vacant, I actually believed it would have been doing her so much good, even if we couldn’t see it. I didn’t want to cry, but it was very likely I’d spend the majority of our day in tears. Even the fact that Harry was right there with us, that we were out in public as a unit with him included, that meant so much to me. He would have been well aware that the chances of us running into someone were high, but he didn’t seem to care. I dropped my head, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “I can’t believe he’s done all this.” I murmured. “I never asked him to do any of it, I… I just can’t believe he’d do this for me.” “That’s what real love looks like. You’ll have to get used to that.” Even hearing the word love made my stomach coil. The pace of mine and Harry’s companionship had been irregular and unpredictable, and though things had begun in October and intensified in January, love still somehow felt like a big word, a big feeling, something I somehow feared. I’d had one serious relationship in my life, one single experience of that form of love, and it had been a destructive example of it. Love had broken my confidence and shattered my trust. Love had made me doubt my own worth and shun my true emotions, the damage darting to destruct so many different aspects of my life and myself. Love had been an enemy disguised as a friend. But the bottom line was that even at his very best, Sam would have never done what Harry had done for me that day. It wasn’t in his nature. He wouldn’t have even considered it. I did not want to fear love because one person had shown me such a poor example of it. “Sam would’ve never done this for me, would he?” I voiced my thoughts. “I doubt it.” “Not that this… Not that it should be expected, because this is… But y’know what I mean.” “One day Sam will meet someone and all that stuff will come really naturally to him.” My dad said. “I just think that you two weren’t right for each other. I hope you leaving him was the wakeup call he needed, and the next person he’s with… he’ll do better. You’ve just got to be with the right person.” I nodded, hoping he was right, because I had seen a lot of good in Sam, and in ways I would always care for him. “Once you find that, it changes you.” He went on. “Once you find that, you become the best version of yourself. It’s a wonderful thing.” He moved to take hold of my mother’s hand, and thankfully she didn’t cower or pull away, she tightened her grip. She seemed at ease, which was a rare and lovely sight. I was startled back to life when Harry came and sat himself down next to me. “Paula said she’s gunna rustle up Rita’s favourite.” He got himself comfortable at my side. “I dunno what that is, but I trust her to know.” “D’ya hear that, Ree?” My dad encouraged. “You’re gunna get your favourite, meat and potato pie.” “That’s nice.” Her reply was low, but any reply at all was good. “We used to come here every Sunday.” My dad turned to tell Harry. “She’d order the same thing every week.” “With a tea.” She added, quiet, but loud enough for us all to shut the fuck up and stare at her completely dumbfounded. It was such a small thing, such an insignificant little fact, but she’d remembered. She had remembered what she used to order every single Sunday when she’d go to PJ’s with my dad. “Holy shit.” I was mystified. “That’s right!” My dad beamed. It was so strange, how she didn’t even know who I was but she could remember something so small like that, even if it was just for a few seconds, even if it was utterly trivial. I really thought being in places that were so familiar to her was helping her recall even the tiniest things, aided by that sense of acquaintance and home. It was impossible not to smile. “I’m so happy you’re both here.” I sighed, taking Harry’s hand beneath the table. “Thank you for sorting this, Harry.” “My pleasure.” He reached to shake my father’s hand across the table. “Good to see you again. How do you feel being back?” Even on the tiny walk from my place to PJ’s, he’d bumped into three people he knew, and was greeted by more love and welcomes when we got into the café. He seemed happy enough and glad to see people, and they seemed glad to see him, but I suppose it was difficult, especially with my mum being right there. As lovely as the greetings had been, they’d also been accompanied by sad looks and awkward moments, broken smiles and sympathetic words. No one meant any harm, that much was clear, but it couldn’t have been easy. “I feel okay. Strange, but good.” He answered rather shakily and yet sure at the same time. “I’ve missed it.” “There’s something special about this place, isn’t there?” Hearing Harry say that made me smile. “Very. And the people in it.” His eyes dodged to me for a second, giving a very knowing look to the two of us. “Agreed.” Harry was holding back a smile, seeming a little bashful. I made my eyes go wide, glaring, not wanting Robert Hunter to act like a proper dad and start interrogating him and scaring him off. Harry didn’t know that I’d confirmed to my dad that there was something happening between us, but I thought with how our day was going and what he’d done for me, Harry would’ve been pretty foolish to think my dad wouldn’t be aware of it. “Just look after her.” He simply said. “I will.” Harry nodded assertively. My whole body was likely beaming a certain blushed colour that I could not control, dropping my head and cooing down towards the table. Harry could say the most simple things and make me experience feelings I never had before. “Alright, well I’m gunna leave you to it.” He sighed, squeezing my hand and then letting go. “What?” My dad gawped. “I know this is a family thing, I don’t wanna intrude.” He raised to his feet. “You’re not intruding at all, it’s the complete opposite.” Robert was stern. “Sit yourself back down. This is only happening because of you, so I think you should stay.” I looked up to him, kind of expecting to see him looking like he’d actually wanted to get away, that he'd have felt a little strange and out of place if he’d stayed, which I would have totally understood. But if anything, he looked flattered. “Are you sure?” “Absolutely.” Smiling and thanking him, Harry sat himself back down, taking hold of my hand again as soon as he could. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

We trudged through the tall grass, the setting sun making everything golden, the evening warm and blissful. It was perfectly serene, birds singing lullabies from their branches, butterflies dancing over flowers, my heart feeling far removed from everything that could ever possibly harm it. Totally peaceful. “Where’re we going?” Harry asked from behind me. “To where my dad proposed to my mum.” I turned and whispered back to him. “I think he’s hoping she’ll remember it.” We were only a short drive out of Rosebury, but from that spot it felt like there was no sign of society for miles and miles, where Mother Nature still reigned supreme, her beauty untouched and untroubled. My dad had hold of my mum’s hand, carefully leading her towards the very spot he’d asked her to marry him when they were only nineteen years old. He was so affectionate, so ridiculously in love with her even still, despite everything. I worried for him all the time, imagining his life both with and without her. There didn’t seem to be a possible outcome where he would be as happy as he deserved to be. My heart broke for him. I stopped when we reached the end of the taller grass, my dad leading my mum down the small hill in front of us to take her out into the open where he’d asked her to marry him. Harry stood by my side, the two of us giving them their space. “This is beautiful.” Harry admired. “He’s really romantic.” I liked seeing them wander off hand in hand like that, because it was almost as though for a few brief moments of my life, I could forget completely the fact that she didn’t fully know who he was or understand what was happening. Seeing them then, the years rewound before my eyes, taking me back to simpler times when their love was untested and her bookshelf was heaving with books of all colours and sizes, romance novels filling each shelf, depicting their love and a life of happiness they had once built side by side. It was the first time in years where the image of them was strong enough to shield that disease, my eyes only able to see two people in love and nothing else. I sat myself down, keeping my eyes on them every second as I tucked my knees upwards, heart and body warm. Harry sat down beside me, the two of us quietly observing them for quite some time, uninterrupted, peaceful. Even when he did eventually speak, he was gentle. “It’s like they never left.” I turned my head to look over his profile, the way he smiled looking out across the fields and hills before us. “Why did you do this for me?” I asked him. “Why wouldn’t I?” He looked back at me. “I care about you. I wanted to make you happy.” “You make me happy anyway. This is… It’s on another level, is all I’m saying.” “So are you.” He shrugged, casually creating pink blotches in my cheeks. He was treating it like the most ordinary thing, like it was the obvious thing to do and he couldn’t really understand why I was so bewildered by it. I was blushing like mad. “It’s what you deserve, and if I can give that to you, I will. And, y’know… your dad deserves this too. He needed to come back here. It was a bit of a no-brainer.” I reached to take his hand, joining our fingers together and holding his hand as tightly as I dared since he still had his bandages on to cover his cuts, which I hoped were well on their way to healing. I leaned his way, kissing his cheek briefly. “I’m beyond grateful. Thank you.” I spoke against his skin, his dimple appearing beside my lips. “You’re welcome.” “I feel really bad that it’s your birthday and it’s like… It’s like the whole day has revolved around me. I haven’t even given you your present yet.” “You got me a present?” “Of course I got you a present.” I chuckled. “You think I’m not gunna get you a present? Louis’ got you one too!” “What the fuck!” “You should not be this surprised!” “I expected a few pints, but actual presents?” He whelped before he seemed to calm, bewildered as he spoke. “Shit. It’s been a long fucking time.” He was so sweet, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his luck. Buying for him had been much more difficult than I’d anticipated. He was such a diverse, illusive being that every typical option I’d thought of fell completely flat. Eventually, I’d settled on an acoustic guitar, one I’d seen months earlier than had made me think of him for reasons I didn’t understand. He was clearly a creative person with multiple talents, and though I knew he already owned a guitar, he’d spoken to me about how it was a hobby he’d regretfully overlooked for quite some time. Since he was leaving one of his passions behind, I thought he might like to remind himself of something else he loved doing, something that wasn’t as harmful, that didn’t nourish the demons within him; they needed starving of the misery he had fed them for too long. “I’m sure hearing everyone on karaoke will be enough of a gift in itself.” I leered. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I had been excited about our day anyway, but with what he’d planned he’d made a good day near perfect. I felt like I wanted to thank him forever. “Seriously, I’m beyond grateful for today, Harry. Thank you.” “Again, you’re welcome.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to keep saying it.” ”Sorry if you feel like you’ve kinda wasted your day.” After spending the late morning and early afternoon in PJ’s, we had spent the rest of our day slowly walking her around town, taking my mum to all her favourite spots and even visiting the house where we used to live as a family. It definitely wasn’t the most riveting of days, as much as I’d loved it. “I don’t, at all. It’s been really nice. Better than how I’ve spent my birthday for the last few years anyway.” I took a moment, shifting uncomfortably on my spot as I thought about approaching the topic I’d been contemplating and stressing over for weeks. I wanted to share it with him, not in the hope of reaching a definite outcome, but me and Harry were doing so well with being open and honest with what we were feeling and thinking, I felt I owed it to us more than anything. I wanted to try and gage how he was feeling about the topic of people knowing about the two of us without diving right into; I wanted to simply test the waters and gather whether he thought we would sink or swim. It was a difficult subject to breach because he’d almost been forced to be much more open that he was accustom to in recent weeks and months, and though that had been a good thing in the grand scheme of things, I understood it must have been overwhelming for him. I didn’t want to pile everything on at once and taint the incredible process he had made. “Were... Were you nervous about bumping into someone today?” I asked shyly. “Mm.” He nodded, smiling as he turned his head to face me. “Were you?” “Yeah.” I admitted. “Kinda.” “Thankfully we got through the day without any of that lot witnessing.” He sniggered. “We’d have never heard the bloody end of it.” “So you’re… You’re not ready for people to know then? About us?” He whipped his head to look at me, likely picking up on the tone of my voice and the suggestion within it. He took a few seconds, the very smallest smile on his lips as he looked over my face, sighing deliberately. I was impressed by the fact he hadn’t run, that he was still sat there with me seeming to actually fully contemplate what I was saying rather than getting defensive and immediately shunning it. Somehow, that was good enough for me. Every day, I could see us progressing, and that was enough. “Sorry.” He said, knowing I’d already figured out his answer. “S’okay. I get it. I just wanted to know where you’re at, that’s all.” “I’m not quite there yet.” I nodded, completely understanding of why he felt that way. Maybe we weren’t ready. Maybe there was already more than enough going on in our lives and between the two of us that we didn’t need anything else from the outside burrowing its way inwards. The thought of everyone knowing was intimidating, I could admit that. I suppose I’d just gotten carried away with how exciting I found it too. I was happy to go at his pace, as long as I knew we were moving forward. I shuffled myself a little closer to him, Harry letting go of my hand so he could wrap his arm around me, tuck me into his side carefully, kiss at the top of my head. I could tell it was his way of comforting me, letting me know that it wasn’t to do with me but more to do with him and how he felt. I couldn’t have asked for much more than that. I looked ahead, seeing my mum and dad picking flowers together, crouched down over a certain patch as he plucked some from their place and handed them over to her. I wiped away my tears quickly. “I dunno what I expected when I moved here,” As Harry spoke, his voice seemed to intertwine with the nature around him, his chords a hidden vein that could bury beneath the soil and create new life. “But it definitely wasn’t this.” I lay my head on his shoulder, not even needing to question him or wonder whether that was a good thing or not, because I knew it was. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I whispered. “I kinda hate thinking about my life without you now. It doesn’t seem right.” Within a second of me saying that, he’d twisted his head to thrust his lips together with mine, breathing me in, a cold wind playing around us and through our hair as he grabbed hold of my face, tongue teasing mine. He was intense, groaning as his mouth moved, beautifully passionate. I felt weak beneath his touch. He was captivating, in everything he said and everything he did, every touch strong enough in its tenderness to weaken me indefinitely. How well I knew his touch and how versed he was with mine made every kiss categorically remarkable, almost intimidatingly so. But that kiss was something beyond anything we’d shared before. I was breathless by the time he stopped kissing me, his lips still close enough to brush my own ever so slightly, fingertips pushing against my jaw to keep me close. I opened my eyes, saw that he was already looking deep into mine, wetting his lips. I felt like I wasn’t breathing. “ALFIE!” I heard my dad call for me from across the field, which may have been the only thing that could make me tear my eyes from Harry’s. “I think we need to get her back. She’s getting upset, she’s confused.” I nodded, my stomach still sinking and my body still motionless, but Harry jumped to his feet immediately, rushing over to lend a helping hand. I was frozen.

“HOLD THE LINE!” Lin was yelling rather than singing. “LOVE ISN’T ALWAYS ON TIME!” It was painful, literally painful. I was loving every second and it was funny as hell, but listening to him squawking like that was genuinely doing bad things to my delicate little ears. The remaining five of us were all leaning our backs against the bar, cringing. “Oh god, it’s even worse than usual.” Louis snorted. “The fact he has no shame is so attractive.” Niall was biting his lip, already one too many drinks down. Chloe was already chatting to the bloke who was in charge of the karaoke machine for the evening, having a deep discussion about which Bee Gees song we should try to take on after realising Stayin’ Alive probably wasn’t the easiest one to tackle, but likely the funniest. Libby and I were trying to down our drinks in order to be drunk enough to actually get up and sing, but it didn’t seem to be working. Chloe had zero qualms about it. “Are you gunna take on Islands in the Stream again?” I asked Harry, nudging his hip with mine. “I suggested I Got You Babe as a joke, and Niall’s already requested it.” “You should be aware that there are no jokes when it comes to Niall and karaoke, Harry.” “That’s really a lesson I need to learn.” He sniggered. Thankfully, we’d managed to calm my mother down earlier before things had gotten completely out of hand. We’d walked her back out of the field and taken her straight over to the van, though thankfully she hadn’t needed any medical assistance, she’s merely needed to calm down and realign her mind once more, as much as she could. They’d left not long afterwards, the farewell drawn out and bittersweet, but I knew it would have made a world of difference when it came to my dad and his attitude towards spending time in Rosebury. We’d gotten through the day with barely a single issue and I could tell that something had switched in his mind. After a brief trip home with Harry by my side, gifting him his guitar and taking him to bed, our evening in the pub had snuck up on us rather quickly and was going exactly as expected. If only or a while. Just as Lin was taking his bow, the song finally coming to a triumphant end, the door swung open and Sam and Tom welcomed themselves into The Royal Rose. Sam had been rather good at hiding himself away since the night where Harry had knocked him to the ground with one foul punch over three months earlier, meaning that most of the group hadn’t seen him since finding out exactly why it was that Harry had gone after him the way he had. I shuffled uncomfortably on my spot as they both approached, looking far too smug for my liking. “M’going outside.” Harry grunted, rolling his shoulders and pushing away from the bar, ready to take himself away from the situation. “Harry, it’s your birthday, you don’t have to-” “Fancy seeing you lot here.” Sam’s voice was as smarmy as ever. “Don’t leave on my behalf, mate.” “I’m not your mate.” Harry stopped and answered, back rigid, tone vapid. Sam was just that bit shorter than Harry, positioning himself right in front of him and looking up with a smug smile on his face. I could see Harry clenching his fists, doing what he could to contain his rage. Lin, however, wasn’t feeling quite as forgiving. “OI!” He yelled, rushing to us from the front of the room. “Sam, get the fuck out.” “I just want a pint, I didn’t even know you lot were here. You don’t own the fucking pub, Lincoln.” Lin seemed unfazed, getting right up in Sam’s face, snarling as he spoke. “But you know I say one word to Gina about what you did to Alfie and you’re barred for life, so I’d take the highroad and leave of your own accord before I make that happen.” “Scary.” He sniggered sarcastically. “Oh fuck this.” Niall tut. “Harry, shut him up and knock him out again, would ya?” I felt like the reason Sam was so defensive and vulgar was no longer anything to do with me and more in an attempt to feel better about himself, try to prove how unfazed he was about the fight he and Harry had. He had no clue that he continued to make himself look worse and worse with every interaction they shared. “Sam, drop it.” Chloe piped up rather shyly. “It’s Harry’s birthday, we’re just trying to have a nice night, can’t you leave it? Go to a different pub.” “It’s embarrassing.” Lin sounded just as rude as Sam had, it was brilliant. “Look, I said I’m sorry,” He fought. “I’ve spoken with Alfie, it’s nowt to do with any of you. I’m not here for trouble, I’m here to have a drink, so if you could all move out of my fucking way and let me get to the bar.” “Go somewhere else.” Harry demanded. “Why should I?” “Sam, fuck off.” Niall groaned, tired of it. He seemed to ignore everyone, looking back up to Harry and it was clear he wanted to make him snap. He wanted a rise out of him. I slyly took Harry’s hand, trying to pull him back, closer to me. Grinning, Sam quickly dropped his eyes to look at me. “We’re alright aren’t we, Alfie?” He asked. “Don’t even bother speaking to her.” Harry stepped so he was right in front me, blocking Sam from me in any way he could. He was doing so well. He could have lost his head as soon as Sam walked through the door, but he hadn’t. He’d stayed as calm as he could, which I appreciated, but then I’d catch another glimpse of the look on Sam’s face and I’d want to punch him myself. Sam took a step closer, Harry not moving an inch. “I dunno whose fucking hero you’re trying to be, but you’re not hers.” Sam snarled, nodding his head towards me. “You might as well stop trying to be.” “I’m not trying anything.” Harry snarled. “Looks like you are to me.” “Why? Because I wanna protect her from you?” “Like you’re any better. I can see right through you-” “Don’t push me.” Harry shook his head. “Say another fucking word.” It wasn’t the first time Sam had suggested that he could see Harry’s feelings for me, and though it didn’t help that every interaction they’d had had been hostile and revolved around me, it seemed that maybe he could see through him in some ways. But he was claiming to see something else in him too, a violence and an aggression, something that had affected Harry’s life and was the source of too many painful memories. And even though he had worked so hard to move on and find alternative ways to deal with his emotions, his rage and his sorrow in particular, I knew what Sam was saying would be bothering him, evoking emotions and times that Harry wanted to keep in the past. “Sam, you’ve got ten fucking seconds.” Lin finalised. “Fine, I’m going, chill out.” He smirked. “Enjoy your nights. Careful around him, Alfie.” Lin managed to stand in the way before I’d even noticed that Harry had lost his patience, trying to jump at Sam and Tom and the two of them sauntered out of the pub, sniggering at him as they went. I hated that they’d managed to make him snap at the very last second, how Lin was once again having to hold him back. “Don’t, mate, he’s not worth it!” Lin called. “He’s trying to get to you.” I still had hold of Harry’s hand. “Ignore him.” He glared at Sam until well after he’d left, nostrils flaring as he kept his eyes on the door, somewhere between wanting to calm down and wanting to follow him outside. His chest was rising and falling, every inch of him tense. “I need air.” He huffed, pulling away from me and heading to the back door. “No, Harry-” I tried. “I’m going out back. Just five minutes, I need to clear my head.” We all watched him go, rolling his shoulders and darting down the hallway where he’d kissed me during the first minute of the year to give himself the space he desired. Sam was trying to get in his head and it was working. He was saying all the right things and really riling him up, and he didn’t need to feel that way. I could see that Harry often saw the worst of himself, saw the negatives and found a way to blame himself for things that were out of his control, for habits and characteristics he had developed over the years. The things Sam had been saying had gotten to him so much because Harry managed to link them to things he’d done, ways he’d felt, behaviours he had tried to change, disregarding the ways he had successfully bettered himself. But I saw the best in Harry. I knew he had changed. I knew he had a good heart. “I think there’s a reason he runs those classes, y’know.” Chloe sighed once he’d slammed the door shut. “I think someone did something to someone he loves, that’s why he gets so… wound up.” “Fuck Sam.” Lin groaned, rubbing the top of my arm encouragingly. “Let’s ignore that. Who wants a drink? I’m not having him ruin our night.” Niall scuttled around to my side as everyone tried to snap out of the moment and return to normal. He leaned closer to me, whispered something in my ear that made my stomach drop. “I think Harry likes you, Alf.” “What?” “C’mon. You see how he gets about you?” “He’s just like that.” I lied as convincingly as I could. “He likes you. I know I’m right. I called Louis and Libby years ago.” “This time, you’re wrong.” “Nice opinion, but I am in fact right, and my advice to you would be to hop right on that dick as soon as possible.” I was glad he’d said something funny so I could laugh it off, shake my head and end the conversation there. But he had this knowing little look on his face, clearly very pleased with himself and exceptionally confident in his prediction, with good reason. As he swaggered away from me, I rolled my eyes before they landed right on the door Harry had just walked out of, my mood dropping quickly. As well as the fact I knew Harry wanted to be on his own, I figured Niall’s speculation was a good reason not to follow him outdoors to see how he was feeling, attempt to cheer him up. He wanted time alone, and I needed to give it to him no matter how agonising the wait might be. It all stemmed down to what had happened with every member of his family; his father’s suicide, the fight with his brother, how his mother had kicked him out and he’d stopped all contact with her for too long. Through every heartbreak and every mistake, Harry had found some blame within himself, misplaced or not. In the following years, he had done all he could to make his peace and be a better person, right his wrongs, but every now and then those detrimental doubts would return to haunt him. Sam being the one to say all that and even comparing the two of them, implying that I needed to worry about Harry, that was what had made him lose himself that way. After so long, I knew what his thought process would be, how he was thinking. I knew I didn’t have anything to fear, and I needed to make sure Harry knew exactly how I felt. Another couple of minutes passed by before the conversation veered back to Harry. “Go check on him.” Niall said, nodding towards the door. “I dunno…” I groaned, trying to seem like I wasn’t desperate to go and see him, even though I definitely was. “Do it. And if he tells you to fuck off, at least then you know. Better that than him hoping someone goes to see if he’s okay and no one does.” “Then you go.” I kept up the act in order to steer his suspicions away. “I’m not the one in the middle of all this.” He shrugged, and I had to accept that at least. Sighing and faking unease, I scuttled in Harry’s direction, soon cautiously opening the door and poking my head around the corner to see that he was already looking right at me like he’d been waiting for me to show up, sat on one of the splintered tables they had outside, feet resting on the bench attached to it, hands in prayer against his lips. “M’sorry.” He spoke instantly. “I dunno why I get like that.” I stepped outside, the door closing slowly behind me as I walked over to him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” I told him, nonchalant. “You get like that because he’s a prick.” I saw his smile as I stopped right in front of him, glad to see him looking so calm and composed, to see his body almost relax with every step closer I’d taken. “You handled it well.” I nodded. “Don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t know you, Harry. He’ll say anything to feel better about himself, it’s his own issue, not yours.” Although he didn’t look quite convinced, he did look as though he was happy to hear it, happy that I was there saying what I was so confidently. I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but I didn’t quite trust that Niall wasn’t behind me spying on the two of us. Harry tilted his head a little, narrowed his eyes. “You know me well, don’t you? You know how my head works.” “I like to think so.” I looked up and shrugged, smiling modestly. “It’s nice. I like it.” He lowered his hands to take hold of me, grasping his fingers around my own, his lips creating the most perfect smile. And I think that was one of the main things that managed to make him feel better that night, that maybe made him feel better in general; the thought that I knew him so well, that I knew things about him that most people didn’t, that I knew of both his good and supposedly bad qualities, and I was there holding his hand regardless, accepting him and being with him and supporting him. It was another reminder among many that nothing really mattered other than me and him, and as long as we knew how we felt, any other opinion or doubt didn’t matter. All that mattered was us.

#THIS IS A LONG ONE PHEW #happy reading #HBS32 #1dff

217 notes · View notes

cate-geo · 5 years ago

Text

Camp Pining Gays

(This has nothing to do with camp, or Steven Universe, or Camp Pining Hearts...but it does have something to do with gays who are pining so GOOD ENOUGH)

(Romantic Moxiety College AU with background Logince, and Platonic Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Logicality.)

(Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, some suggestive teasing. Tell me if there’s any more.)

(Tags: @ab-artist, @vigilantprotector)

Words: 3,634 (oof, I don’t usually write that much)

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

“Mr. Storm!” Virgil snapped back into reality. Damn it.

“Yeah, Prof.”

“Honestly if you’re going to listen to music during my lecture you could at least pretend to hide it. Instead of wearing obvious headphones.”

Virgil rolled his eyes “Why bother with the stress of trying not to get caught? It’s just easier to tell the truth.”

“Please, just try to pay attention.”

Virgil nodded and completely zoned out the professor the second they weren’t giving him any attention. He fucking knew he shouldn’t have gone to class today. No, wait. He had to turn in the essay. Fuck, why couldn’t he just do that electronically?

The rest of the class was so grueling. He wanted so badly to put his headphones back on, but the idea of being called out again made him want to vomit. God he just wanted to go back to bed, but leaving early would just bring attention to him. At least it was his last class of the day.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second the Professor started saying “Alright, I think that’s all for today.” Virgil was out the door in a flash. All earlier hopes of studying in the library were crushed by his need to hide under his blankets. He tried to convince himself that he would study in his room, but he was most likely just gonna pass out.

He walked into his apartment to find his roommate. It wasn’t that he hated Roman, but he really wanted to be alone right now. Luckily Roman seemed to notice.

“Hey bud. Tough day?”

“Yep.” Virgil plopped his bag down and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed.

“Gonna take a nap?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry. I was just about to head out. Gotta rehearse with Patton.”

Virgil immediately shot up “What?” He cleared his throat “Who?” Was he fantasizing again?

“Patton. He’s in my drama class this semester. Sweet kid.”

“He works at the library, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Roman stopped, and Virgil dreaded the gleam growing in his eyes “You know him?”

“I’ve seen him around.”

Roman leaned in close, trying to read Virgil, who was trying to be as unreadable as possible. “Do you like him?” “I don’t just get a crush on every cute guy I see like you do.”

“It doesn’t have to be every cute guy. Just one cute guy.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and hid his head under the covers “I’m napping.”

“Alright alright. I’ll do you a favor and try to get his sexual orientation.”

“Whatever.” Virgil sighed in relief when the door finally opened and closed.

Then he shot up.

“Wait no! Don’t fucking do that!” Roman was not subtle at all. God, Virgil was so glad he wasn’t actually gonna be present for that conversation. Although his imagination wasn’t much better. He groaned and shut his eyes tight. Trying to let sleep overtake him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil didn’t really remember falling asleep, but he must have since he was waking up now and it was dark outside. He looked around and noticed Roman wasn’t back yet. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He should probably make dinner.

He pondered whether or not he should make Roman some food too. Maybe he could poison it for the stunt Roman was trying to pull. Before he could decide though, he heard the door open.

“Heeeeey Virgil~”

“Hey Roman. How was rehea-”

Roman had the hugest shit-eating grin on his face, and coming in behind him was Patton.

Yep. Virgil was definitely gonna poison Roman’s food.

Virgil didn’t know if he should yell at Roman or try to make a good impression. Although, it wasn’t as if he was capable of speech at the moment.

“Hi. Sorry to intrude. Roman said he just needed to grab something real quick. Then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah. We were gonna get something to eat. Wanna join us?” Roman was still grinning.

God Virgil wished he had the idea to make dinner 60 seconds earlier. Then he would have an excuse. “I uh...don’t want to interrupt any rehearsing.”

“Oh, it would be good to have a test audience” Roman wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, his eyes telling him that he wasn’t getting out of this one, so he should just tag along.

“Yeah. It could really help to have a fresh set of eyes. You should come.”

Patton was asking Virgil to dinner. Ok so...it wasn’t exactly how he imagined it. But he was too lovestruck to stop himself from saying yes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the fear in Virgil’s chest, the dinner wasn’t so bad. The skit they were doing was cute. And it definitely helped with payback giving Roman so much constructive criticism.

Although Roman retaliated quickly. “Oh wow. Sorry. Cute guy alert. Gotta get his number. Be back in a jiff.”

Virgil tried to say ‘Don’t you fucking dare leave me’ with his eyes, but Roman was already gone.

“Wow. I could never ask for a random guy’s number.”

“Yeah. That’s Roman. Extra in absolutely everything he does.” Virgil stared at his drink “Uh...so you work at the library, right?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve seen you around.”

Virgil felt his heart beat faster. Patton noticed him. “Yeah well, it’s a good place to study.” God, why was this so awkward?

“Mhm.” Patton must be finding it awkward too “Roman mentioned you two have Disney movie nights on Saturdays. That must be so much fun.”

“Uh...yeah. When he doesn’t have a date. Which is actually pretty often despite the amount of guys he hits on. Do you want to join us this weekend?” shitshitshit. Did that just come out of his mouth? Shit.

“Wait really?”

“Sorry. That sounds creepy. You hardly know me-us...and I’m inviting you to our apartment at night and-”

“No that sounds nice actually. I just don’t want to intrude on you two.”

“It’s no intrusion. It’s mostly just Roman singing along. It’d be nice to mix things up a bit.” Mix things up a bit? Mixing things up a bit made Virgil panic. So did inviting a cute boy to his place. What the fuck did Roman do to him?

Speak of the devil, Roman sat back down with them, slapping down a piece of paper with numbers scrawled on it “Boom. That’s how you do it.”

Virgil looked down at his lap “Uh...is it cool if Patton joins us for Disney night?” He wasn’t looking at him, but he could feel Roman’s eyes get bigger

“Of course. The more the merrier. We can make it a pajama party.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Patton had the biggest smile.

Virgil nodded, ready to die.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil wasn’t going to get super dressed up. It was a pajama party after all, not like he could wear a suit or makeup. Well, any more makeup than his usual eye shadow. But....he didn’t want to smell bad or anything.

“Virge that is the fifth time you’ve brushed your teeth. Are you planning on kissing him?”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, well I’m your wingman, whether you like it or not.”

“Well you suck at it. You never did find out his orientation.”

“Oh. He’s pan.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He has a pan pin on his backpack, I thought you saw it, with how much you stare at him.”

“I don’t stare at him!”

“Yeah, ok”

“I just zone out. It’s a thousand-yard stare. It’s not about who I’m looking at. It just happens.”

“So you can fantasize about him.”

“I am going to stab you with your own sword.”

“So this is a really bad time to tell you I have a date with the guy from the restaurant tonight and I’ll be joining you two later, huh?”

Virgil just noticed how gussied up Roman was. “What? You’re gonna leave me alone with him in the apartment.”

“Hey, you’re the one who invited him here.”

“Roman, please. I beg of you. It was so awkward when you left us.”

“You’ll be watching movies. You don’t have to make small talk. And it couldn’t have been that awkward. You literally asked him on a date.”

Virgil groaned but couldn’t say anything else because there was a knock on the door. Roman placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Don’t stress out too much. Patton is a sweet little puffball. He’ll understand if you’re a bit anxious.”

Virgil sighed and went into his room as Roman answered the door. Part of him wanted to lock himself in there forever, but he couldn’t just leave Patton all alone. So he grabbed his blanket and some pillows before walking into the living room and freezing.

Footie pajamas.

Cat footie pajamas.

Fuck he’s adorable.

It kinda made Virgil feel dull just wearing a plain black t-shirt, plain black sweatpants, and his usual hoodie. His hoodie wasn’t exactly dull, but he always wore it so the shock factor was gone.

“Hey, Virgil! Roman just told me he’s gotta head out. It’s a bit of a shame. But we’ll have fun together.”

“Uh yeah. Romeo here can’t turn off his charm for one night.”

“It’s a gift and a curse. I’ll be back late, so have fun you two. As much fun as you want.” Roman winked at Virgil and immediately got a pillow to the face.

“Ugh you’re just as bad as your brother.”

Roman clutched his chest in mock hurt before wiggling his fingers goodbye and walking out the door.

Virgil picked up the pillow he tossed and dropped everything in front of the tv. “Go ahead and choose the first movie. You want popcorn?”

“Yes please.”

Virgil stared at the microwave as the popcorn popped. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Sure he was so close to vomiting, but...it could actually be nice.

He poured the popcorn into the biggest bowl he could find and walked back to find Patton had picked Winnie the Pooh. “Heh. Cute.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” He placed the bowl in-between them and hit play.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was actually a really nice time. Although Virgil put a ton of attention into not accidentally grazing Patton’s fingers in the popcorn bowl. He wanted to. But he knew if he did he would immediately die, and that might dampen the mood a bit. So Virgil was honestly relieved when the popcorn was gone.

Except his relief was short-lived, because Patton had moved the bowl out of the way and now there was nothing in-between them and they were under the same blanket and worrying about finger grazes was a lot less stressful than worrying about cuddling up to each other.

Besides that, it was nice.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a few movies, Virgil noticed Patton’s head bobbing and his eyes drooping. He really was the cutest thing in the world, wasn’t he?

He was trying not to stare, but he probably should have because the next thing he knew, Patton had fallen asleep. On. His. LAP! And Virgil was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating.

What was the normal person response? He didn’t want to wake Patton by moving him. So he tried to play it cool and slowly ran his fingers through his hair. It was so soft. God, why was everything about him so soft?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later he heard the door open.

“Awwwww.”

“Shut it.” Virgil hissed.

Patton rubbed his eyes “Oh hey Roman. You’re back. How was your date?”

“Magical~ How was your…” Virgil glared at him “Night.”

“Pretty chill. I guess I kinda passed out. Sorry for falling asleep on you Virgil.”

“Nah it’s fine.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three of them were able to watch a movie and get into about a third of another one before Roman and Patton fell asleep.

Virgil felt his eyes getting heavy so he turned off the tv and curled up in the blanket before drifting off.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil opened his eyes to a face full of hair. He didn’t remember cuddling up to Patton, but he must have.

He smiled and pulled Patton closer, nuzzling his nose into the back of his neck, hearing giggles coming from Patton.

“Morning Virgil.”

“Mmmm. Morning Pat.” He started pressing soft kisses on Patton’s shoulder blade, relishing in how he could see his blush reach the tips of his ears.

And then he woke up for real.

Virgil looked around. Patton wasn’t anywhere near. He wasn’t even on the ground anymore. This made Virgill sit up with a start. Where was he? Was he hurt? Did he get kidnapped? Did he-

The smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen and the sound of two voices chatting calmed him down. He found his phone and saw it was just after 10. He wasn’t usually up this early on the weekends. Unless he stayed up this late.

Virgil stretched and got up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Oh! Good morning Virgil. I’m almost done making breakfast.”

“Isn’t he great Virge? Real husband material if you ask me.” Roman grinned knowing he deserved the punch in the arm.

“You two should take a seat. It’ll be done any second now.”

Roman obliged, but Virgil stayed. Staring at Patton cooking, he imagined wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his chin on his shoulder.

Patton turned around “Oh kiddo. Did you need something?”

“I can...uh...help.”

“Aw. Thank you. Here. This is yours and this is Roman’s.” Patton handed him two plates before turning back to the stove.

Virgil nodded and brought out the plates to a grinning Roman “What?”

“Just a nice save is all”

“Maybe be snarky after I’m not holding your food.”

“Ok ok ok.” Roman grabbed his plate “Still a nice save.”

Virgil growled and sat down.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months had passed. Patton and Roman had kept pairing up for scenes, and Roman kept insisting to Virgil it was because they had become friends and had nothing at all to do with the fact that he was the ultimate wingman.

Roman’s date started hanging around more and more. Virgil learned his name was Logan, and he had started to really like his presence.

Virgil liked Roman and he was in love with Patton, but...they were really easily excitable and rambunctious. And when Virgil got overloaded, it was nice to find Logan in a different room just quietly reading a book. It was calming. To hang out with someone without needing to do anything. Allowed to listen to his headphones and just...be.

Logan was also a giant nerd, which comes in real handy with finals just around the corner.

Virgil also couldn’t help but notice how happy he made Roman. He had noticed that Roman’s flirty eyes had turned to more loving with stars in them every time he looked at Logan. It was really nice to see his friend in love and happy. He also finally had some retaliation to every single time Roman teased him about his crush on Patton. Although it didn’t hit as hard because Roman wasn’t keeping any of his feelings a secret.

Speaking of which, Virgil was still too nervous to ask Patton out. Still would fantasize about him. And still felt this weird feeling in his stomach whenever they hung out. Besides all that, the two of them had actually become close friends. Patton would always greet him with a hug, and Virgil wasn’t always the hugging type, but Patton was soft and warm and felt safe and always smells like vanilla, so he was the one exception.

Many nights the two of them had stayed up late talking. Virgil started to trust him, and tell him about all of his anxieties. Except for the ones that involved his crush of course. And the night that Patton told him that he usually bottles up his feelings and tries so hard to be happy even when he isn’t, Virgil almost felt honored with how much Patton trusted him back. It was also really nice to pull Patton into his lap and let him cry in his chest.Virgil hated himself for liking this when Pattion was so upset. But they were so close...it was nice. Despite the topic.

Then one night, Patton told Virgil that he had a crush on somebody and Virgil felt his heart crack into two pieces.

He knew he should have made a move sooner.

“That’s great Pat.”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you had any advice on how to ask them out.”

“Uh...Roman’s usually better at the whole love advice thing. You should ask him.”

“I did, but I’m pretty sure this person wouldn’t want the big romantic extravaganza Roman suggested. I also don’t have the money to rent a hot air balloon.” Vigil snorted “I wanna keep it simple. Like how would you want to be asked out?”

There was no way Patton could have known, but that hurt just as much as finding out about his crush. Having to tell Patton all the fantasies Virgil has had about him, without being able to make them come true. “Uh...I guess I just want to be asked to hang out. Well, not just hang out. Knowing my anxieties, I wouldn’t know if it was a romantic or a platonic thing. I would want you...or well...one...to actually say the words “as a romantic date”. No room for confusion, you know?”

“Got it. Just straight to the point. Thanks, Virgil!”

“Yeah, no problem.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------There was no way Virgil could sleep that night. He looked at Patton laying on his chest and despite how much it stung that he liked somebody else, this wasn’t so bad. Patton was his best friend. He was a great best friend. Crushes come and go. Maybe one day he would stop fantasizing about kissing him and he would be perfectly happy with the relationship they had.

Maybe.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Virge, you haven’t talked all day. Something bugging you?” Roman leaned against Virgil and got shoved off.

“I’m fine.”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“You already know.”

“What do I already know?”

“About Patton’s…” Nope, he was not about to cry “About Patton’s crush”

Roman gasped “He told you?” Why did he sound so excited?

“Yeah. He told me about his crush and wanted more chill advice than what you gave him and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Roman blinked “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s fine. Patton’s a good friend. I’ll get over him. Eventually.”

Roman sighed deeply and muttered something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Don’t worry. I promise I’ll fix this.”

“No. Don’t interfere. He has his own feelings and emotions and is his own person. He likes someone else. It’s not his fault I’m too much of a coward to ask him out.”

“Virge-”

“It’s fine. I have class.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil came back from class to see Patton in his apartment talking with Roman. This wasn’t all that surprising, but it still stung. And the fact Patton didn’t hug him was worrisome.

“Ah. You’re home.” Roman crossed his arms “Go on”

“What are you talking about?”

“Heh. I think he means me kiddo…”

“Huh”

“Well...I didn’t really want to put you on the spot with Roman’s suggestion, and when I asked Logan for advice, he told me I should get some information from the source. So I wanted to gather information and then ask you when the time was right. But your advice was literally to be direct, and this was completely not that. But I panicked and didn’t know how you felt. Roman was just telling me how I should have just confessed then and there and that I was making your anxiety worse…and I’m really sorry.”

“What?”

“Oh...uh...my crush is...you Virgil.”

Dreaming. He was dreaming. Daydreaming? Fantasizing? In a coma?

“Ah. Fucking finally!” Roman shouted “Do you know how stressful it’s been keeping both of your secrets for this long?”

Holy shit. This was reality.

“You like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Months of just watching you two together but not together.” Roman collapsed on the couch “It was probably more emotionally draining for me than for the two of you combined.”

“I like you too.”

“Eeee” Patton pounced onto Virgil and hugged him tightly.

Virgil staggered a bit but was able to keep them both up, holding Patton tight.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss”

“Roman, can you shut the fuck up for 5 seconds of your life?”

“Come on you know you want to.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and landed them on Patton “Uh...is it...o...k?”

“Mhm. Very much so.”

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

Holy shit. This time it really did happen.

“Aw. You guys are adorable.”

Virgil flipped Roman off “I’m not adorable”

“Yeah ok, buddy” Roman suddenly gasped making Virgil jump “We should have a double date!”

Patton squealed “YES!” He dragged Virgil over to the couch and he and Roman started prattling on about where they would go.

Usually, Virgil would leave when the two got this excited, but he was kind of excited too. In his own chill and calmer way. Besides, he had a boyfriend now. And it was really nice to finally wrap an arm around his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek while he was talking instead of just fantasizing about it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Patton was sleeping on Virgil’s chest, and Virgil was too excited to sleep. He leaned down and kissed the top of Patton’s head and heard a giggle.

“You aren’t sleeping.”

“I can’t. Too happy.”

Virgil hid his blush, despite it being dark.

“Yeah...me too.”

#moxiety #logince #platonic royality #platonic prinxiety #platonic analogical #platonic logicality #Virgil sanders #Patton sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #college au #sanders sides

79 notes · View notes

littlemonstersau-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Meet The Parents

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

————————————————————————————————

Bill, meticulously arranging props in front of laptop: … Okay, that looks enough like organization getting unintentionally messy … [puts cotton balls in cheeks to make them rounder, straightens tie, puts on stolen glasses, picks up pen] And now, to wait for the skyelp to come through! [bends over “homework” as if dutifully studying … holds exact pose for over 5 minutes while quivering with excitement]

*laptop chimes as skyelp comes online*

Dipper, excitedly: Will? You there? I’m here with Mom and— [registers costume (especially new additions of sweater vest, tie, and glasses) and gasps]

Bill, beaming and voice-cracking: Dippy!

Dipper, breathlessly happy: … h-hey there …

Ms. Pines, squealing softly to her husband: My gosh, he’s so cute!

Mr. Pines, just as softly and trying not to laugh: He looks like a tiny, Irish accountant. Like he’s balancing the ledgers for the Leprechaun King.

Ms. Pines: I know! I just wanna pat his chubby, little cheeks and put a pencil behind his ear!

Dipper, blushing: M-Mom! Dad! Don’t embarrass me with B-Will! [clearing throat] Um, Will. This is m-my Mom and Dad.

Bill, dripping with wholesome enthusiasm: Pleased to meecha, Ms. and Mr. Pines! I’m William Corduroy, but you can call me Will. Or even (ugh) Willy, if you like.

Ms. Pines: Well, Willy, it is sooo nice to finally meet you!

Mr. Pines, sternly: What are your intentions with my son? [gets smacked by wife while son groans] What? C’mon, I had to ask it at least once. I’m a dad!

Bill: My intentions? [flashes through everything he’s imagined doing with Dipper since the twins had to go home … it’s pretty wild; blushes; starts to sweat] hhh … HOLD HANDS! MAYBE KISS FACE! CH-CHERISH! [gestures helplessly at Dipper] I mean, look at him! What else could anyone intend with him?!

Ms. Pines and Dipper: D’awww!

Mr. Pines, still sternly: You tell me. What else do you intend?

Dipper, burying face in hands: Oh, Moses, Dad …

Ms. Pines: Dear, stop, you’re making the poor boys nervous. And teenage boys already sweat enough as it is. Just look at Dipper.

Dipper: Mom!

Ms. Pines, insistently: We can have a talk about … safety and responsibility later. [Bill and Dipper exchange a horrified look] Right now, we’re here to get to know Dipper’s little boyfriend. So stop acting out clichés for 5 minutes, please. Now, Willy … um … How’s your day been? What’ve you been up to?

Bill, relaxing visibly as things go back on script: Oh, y’know. Same old, same old. School. Now I’m just here at the library, gettin’ my homework done for the weekend. [gestures at prop “homework” like a good student] Sorry I couldn’t do this at home where you could meet my dad, but we don’t have a computer. If you can believe that. It’s also why I’m still wearin’ these school clothes.

Dipper, confused: School clothes? Gravity Falls schools don’t require uniforms. They’re public.

Bill: Oh, well … Today was … special.

Dipper: Did you … dress up just to impress my parents?

Bill, a little defensively: Golly, I just wanted to make a good first impression! So your folks’ll, y’know … like me. And let us keep being together.

Ms. Pines, charmed: Oh, don’t worry, Willy. It worked; I think you look absolutely darling!

Bill: Gee, thanks! I can see where Dippy gets his sweet personality!

Ms. Pines: Oh, you!

Mr. Pines, rolling eyes: Okay, honey, dial back the falling for cheesy compliments. Anyway, Will, what do you like to study?

Bill: Oh, I really like math. Especially … trigonometry.

Dipper, snorting: Pff! Seriously? Oh, um, inside joke.

Bill: Perpendicular.

Dipper: Hahaha! C’mon, man, be serious!

Bill: Let’s see … I also like psychology. Dream analysis is fun, ‘cause then I getta tell people that, like, I’m the boy of their dreams … analysis! At least, I getta tell Dipper that.

Mr. Pines, snorting: Okay, I’ll give you points for that one, kid. Dad Joke level of corniness. 6.5/10.

Bill, grinning: Gee, thanks!

Mr. Pines: You getting good grades in math and psychology?

Bill, playing at modesty: Oh, golly, sir. I don’t wanna brag … But it is easier to work hard when it’s fun, y’know? Unlike the way they do history classes here.

Mr. Pines: Boring teachers?

Bill: Yeah. Plus, they’re complete schills for the conservative military-industrial complex. It’s bad propaganda done borin’ly.

Mr. Pines, perking up: What makes you say that?

Bill: Oh, the usual. The don’t even teach that Ben Franklin was secretly Gwen Franklin, that JFK was killed by mobsters from the future to keep him from becomin’ a robo-dictator, and that Ronald Reagan was a mind-controlled puppet put in power by a conspiracy of billionaires to keep colonizin’ other countries for their resources and essentially slave labor.

Mr. Pines: Ugh! Tell me about it! And it’s all because they want to keep the populace uninformed and easy to pacify.

Bill, defiantly: But it’s not gonna work on me! Or Dippy! We do our own historical research and stick it to the man!

Mr. Pines: Boo-yeah! Tear down corporate capitalism! [turns to wife] Okay, I like this kid.

Bill: I can see where Dipper gets his keen judgment of character. Along with his striking good looks.

Mr. Pines: Oh, go on!

*Dipper gives bill a secret thumbs-up*

Ms. Pines, smirking: Okay, now who has to dial back the falling for cheesy compliments? [turns back to Bill] So, math and psychology and rebellious history study … Given any thought to what you’d like to do with those when you grow up?

Bill, feigning thoughtfulness: I … think … I’d … like to make video games. Coding and design and such. But ones that make players think and be creative.

Ms. Pines, impressed: Really? Has Dipper told you that’s the kind of work I do?

Bill: What? No! Gosh, Dippy, why’d you never tell me! That’s just swell, ma’am! What kind?

Ms. Pines: Indie games, so there’s a lot of side-scrolling and retro RPG elements—very basic gaming elements— but sooo much more heart. And, like, artistic integrity. The kinda stuff that really touches people.

Bill, starry-eyed: That’s the kinda stuff I wanna make!

Ms. Pines: It’s not easy … but it’s worth it. So, how’d you and Dipper meet? When’d you start dat—

Mr. Pines: Wait, sorry, hold up. Is that a freakin’ skull? [points at shelf]

Bill, genuinely surprised: What? [turns, has to take off glasses to actually see] Well, gosh, it looks like it is.

Dipper, mouthing silently: Why in the 79 hells would you even put that there?!

Bill, honestly: I’m honestly not sure why the library’d have that. I didn’t even notice it.

Mr. Pines: Might wanna get your prescription checked, kiddo.

Bill: They’re reading glasses, so …

Dipper, mouthing silently: Where’d you even … ARE THOSE GRUNCLE FORD’S?!

———

[Meanwhile, back at the Shack, Ford, stumbling around all squint-eyed: Ah, Stan, there you are! Have you seen my glasses?

Sascrotch, standing mutely like a taxidermied figure: …

Ford: It’s the darndest thing. I’d swear I set them on the end table when I laid down to take a nap, but couldn’t find them when I woke up. Of course, I’m not having much luck finding my glasses without my glasses.

Sascrotch: …

Ford: What? Oh, am I still getting the silent treatment for saying you’re too old to have hair that long?

Sascrotch: …

Ford, indignantly turning away: Fine, who needs you anyway? I’d find them without your hel—

Ford, tripping: AAA!

Ford, lying flat on his face: … I’m alright!]

———-

Bill, continuing as if to the Dad, but actually to Dipper: It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. [goes and puts a book in front of the skull] There! Problem solved!

Mr. Pines: Yeah, that’s much bet … Is that The Necronomicon?!

Bill, genuinely surprised again: … Huh. Looks like it is. [picks it up, pages through it … shakes head] Nah, it’s just The Nockoffronomicon. You can tell ‘cause it doesn’t mention Shaggy or even Bob. And instead of Cthulhu, it’s dedicated to Cthhula. [puts different book in front of skull] The best dancer among the Elder Gods, am I right?

Mr. Pines: Heh … 7/10 for that one.

Bill: Gee, thanks! Anyway, um … D’you mind if I tell ‘em, Dippy? You’re sure it’s okay? [pretending to get bashful] So, um … Dippy used to have a crush on my big sis, Wendy. And ‘cause she works at the Shack, they’d be, like, hanging out together a lot. He even came over to the house a few times. And, um, naturally I had a crush on him from the get go, ‘cause just look at him! Who wouldn’t?

Dipper, blushing: Ah, jeez …

Ms. Pines: D’awww!

Mr. Pines, grudgingly: D’awww …

Bill, making himself grin and blush wholesomely: So I started coming along to hang out. Then, before I knew it, it was just us hanging out alone together. And we were exploring the woods one day when we found some wild mistletoe—golly, I told him, “That’s wild mistletoe. That’s what it looks like in the wild.” and then he said … No, he stepped under it first, then he said, “Guess we gotta kiss now.”—and so we kissed.

Mr. Pines, slapping his son on the back: You sly, little dog!

Bill: And I was like, “Gee, that was swell!” Can you believe it?! Real lame-o line to follow a first kiss, right? And he was like, “We could do it again, if you want.” And I said, “But, gosh, we’re not even dating! Everyone’ll think I’m a boy-floozy!”

Ms. Pines: HA! Oh, that’s precious!

Bill, giggling: Y-yes, ma’am! It was! And then Dippy, he said, “Well, be my boyfriend. We’ll start calling our hang-outs dates, and I’ll fight anyone who calls you a floozy.” It was soooo chivalrous!

Dipper, beet red and with his hands in his face: Stahp …

*a while later, after the parents have left*

Dipper, relieved: That … That went a lot better than expected. And they sure loved Willy Corduroy.

Bill, self-assuredly: Natch. I’m inescapably charming, no matter the alias. [pulls out cotton balls and tosses them in the trash] If you ever call me Willy, though, I will shank one of your stuffed animals. That was me takin’ one for the team. Which is us, by the way. The team is us.

Dipper: Heh! Yeah, I gathered that.

Bill: Still, I’m surprised they never asked about my eyes …

Dipper: Oh, I “warned” them in advance. Told them you had a medical condition, and that you were really sensitive about it.

Bill: Good thinking. You’re so smart. And handsome. And sexy.

Dipper, grinning: Stahp!

Bill, grinning back: Nope. Never. Because I love you.

Dipper: Hehehe! I love you, too … Willy!

#little monsters au #billdip #bipdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #gravity falls au #writing #fanfiction #meet the parents #here it is bois #submission

59 notes · View notes

alkhale · 6 years ago

Text

Locked Here for Forever (1/6) Dark!Sabo/Oc/Dark!Ace

(quick note before y’all come at me with torches)

This was a side project I’ve been playing around with while working on updates (THE UPDATES ARE COMING I SWEAR, I SWEAR) I was kinda... possessed? to write this and when it kept coming back to me, I realized I needed to get it out of my system. Doing that made me realize how big it was going to end up being so it’s divided up into parts.

I’ve been wanting to explore a different variety of things. We can say “darker” themes, but I really just wanted to try my hand at playing with characters with honestly manipulative and sociopathic behavior. I’m not going on a limb to say yandere because that term is loose and often made to be thought of with stabby-stabby, stalky-stalky--but I think it can encompass a lot more? Possessive behavior, controlling, but I wanted to really go into manipulative behavior. Sociopathic because it’s not psychotic, it’s functioning and cold and hmm.

(Btw, to each their own, fantasies, kinks, we don’t shame here. But if anyone is ever putting you through what Hoku is going to be put through here and manipulating you into basically mind controlling you and this and that, it is not a healthy relationship and they are scum and you deserve better, drop their ass like a hot fucking potato.)

I decided to use Hoku because this idea originally came from another AU for Memos. (I’m sorry Hoku) Loosely based on the premise from the BL comic, “Points of Three”

It’s here on AO3, if you just want to read there too.

Rating: NSFW

Pairing: Sabo/Oc/Ace (Past! Kid/Oc), Dark!Ace/Oc/Dark!Sabo

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Manipulation (Psychological and Emotional), Past Assault, Past Trauma, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Use of Aphrodisiacs, BDSM, Dubious Consent, Controlling Behavior, Stalking

Chapter One: Points of Three

“From three points, it can’t ever end. They’ll always pull at one. One is always pulled between them. One point is always trapped between the other two.”

Hoku shoved a pancake into her mouth.

“That’s the idea at least.”

The twenty-four hour breakfast diner was only half busy. A dingy place with wallpaper peeling in places but always clean and friendly. Cozy. The booths had tears at the seams, patched together by other patches. Establishments like this weren’t too popular all throughout their town, but the diner’s all-you-can-eat pancake and breakfast option did the job for their group’s ridiculous appetites.

Crumpled papers were splayed out on their table. Luffy had spilled a bit of syrup onto one of his math packets and it was in the middle of being patted down with water and dried to be somewhat presentable.

Her best friend’s face was currently in the middle of short-circuiting. His attention was waning thin. Luffy’s lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed as he hunched over the papers in front of him, one fork in his hand with syrup dripping from a soggy slice of pancake.

Hoku continued to chew, sick of these studies herself.

“So the answer,” Luffy said slowly. He rubbed the scar beneath his eye. A dumb thing he’d gotten trying to impress a man beyond both their leagues. “Is nothing.”

Hoku snorted. “It’s infinity, dumbass. It never ends.”

“Are you sure?” Luffy said, squinting. “You’re pretty dumb too. I think there’s just no answer. Hey, hey, let’s just leave it blank and then—”

“If you don’t do your half of the group project, Nami’s gonna kick your ass and then she’s going to come after mine,” Hoku said, looking a bit pale at the idea as she slumped forward onto the messy table as well, using her mouth to grab the edge of a pancake off her plate and slowly chew through it. “Dun cwah meh duhm, duhmash.”

“Shishishi, but you are!” Luffy snickered, kicking his feet out and mimicking her position. “We’ll just pay Nami money not to kick our ass and we win!”

Hoku groaned around a pancake at the dangerous word. She made sure strands of her white hair weren’t getting caught in stray puddles of syrup, lazily tugging it back up into a bun. “We’re broke, dumbass. She might be willing to take an IOU, but she’ll collect someday and…”

Hoku whimpered, wishing she could shove her face into the stack of pancakes beside her. “I need a jooooooooob.”

Luffy chewed in front of her, shoveling more pancakes into his mouth. Unbothered. He usually got off on the occasional odd job and Luffy always just had this… way of making things work out when they shouldn’t.

The diner was cheap. So it’d been her source of nutrition the past couple of weeks—aside from Sanji’s loving meal preps and Nami’s fruits constantly being brought back to her dingy apartment. The horrible, cold truth was that her funds were low. Financial aid covered for her classes and materials fine, but existing outside of school came off her savings and odd jobs or freelance work she picked up here and there.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken two years off,” Hoku said, squinting at her stack of pancakes as Luffy reached over and started eating them. “Might’ve landed me a better job…”

“Nah, you needed it,” Luffy said simply. “‘Sides, you had tons of fun. You don’t regret it at all.”

Hoku whimpered once more. “Ugh, you’re right.”

Hoku only stood at twenty-one, two years older than Luffy—but after her third year of high school, she’d chosen to leave Japan after her graduation ceremony and head back to her hometown, a small place in Hawaii. She’d decided on a two-year gap, getting in touch with old family friends of her late parents who were essentially relatives and just taking some time to herself after everything and doing a little self-searching but…

Hoku had come back and managed to enter back into college without much of a hitch. She and Luffy were now on the same pace to graduating with Nami and Usopp—if he or she didn’t fail in the meantime—Zoro was going to school part-time for police academy training, Sanji doing the same for his culinary school and full-time position at his father’s restaurant and at least all her buddies were still in school aside from Robin and Franky and Brook.

To be honest, her life was going pretty well so far, aside from finances. It’d been almost a year now since her break-up and the two of them were still on amicable terms and checked in with each other regularly, her friends were healthy and in her life, Shanks and his team were out exploring some new island and there’d be an interview on it soon they could tune into…

Hoku was happy.

But school aside—she was still unemployed and poor. No new jobs had been coming her way as of late and even Law helping her land that job with designing that new program promotion his residency had needed was gone to her rent in a blink.

“Why don’t you ask Torao to help you get a job at his hospital?” Luffy said loudly. “You can be a nurse or something.”

“I’m too dumb to save people’s lives,” Hoku said flatly. “And I’m an art major. That’s like… Telling a cat to go fly.”

Luffy opened his mouth.

“Never mind, stop there,” Hoku shoved her face into the sleek table, smelling the old wood. “You also need credentials to work in a hospital, Lu. Should I find a campus job? There’s gotta be an opening somewhere… Maybe I can see if the amusement park needs caricature artists or something--”

“But you hate that kinda stuff,” Luffy complained. “It’s boring. You’re never supposed to do the boring stuff ya hate.”

“But I’m broke,” Hoku said pitifully. “Maybe my pride can suck up being poor…”

Hoku turned so her chin was flat against the table, looking thoughtful. “Maybe I can gamble my way to being rich…”

Luffy chewed with a little more thought, making a constipated expression—he was really thinking about something.

Her phone vibrated with a little jingle on the other side of the booth. Hoku turned it over, making a little happy noise. They could worry about money later. She hated thinking about this kind of stuff. “Zoro’s out of class. Let’s meet up with him and Usopp for that movie.”

“I feel like I’m forgetting somethin’,” Luffy said, making a face. “Oh, man… what was it…”

“Answer your damn homework and let’s go,” Hoku said, stuffing her leftover pancakes into her mouth and waving her hand to the owner for a check. “Cuh mown.”

“Nothing, right?” Luffy said, about to press his pen in.

“Infinity,” Hoku said flatly, grabbing his pen and scribbling the horizontal 8 in for him. “Never ends. That point is always stuck. Kinda like insanity.”

“Like how you’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy, crazy, now c’mon. Let’s beat Usopp and make him pay for snacks.”

Luffy stuffed all the pancakes into his mouth, rushing out the door with his cheeks full. Hoku slapped their money onto the table and ran out after him, shoving extra napkins into her backpack.

Hoku stared at the last page of her canvas sketchbook with a reluctant frown, a small sigh slipping past her lips.

She’d tried to be as conservative as possible with all the negative space—but this was it. She went through sketchbooks faster than her small funds could afford, but she couldn’t help but always put aside a bit for her work—it’s what you love.

The rest of her art classmates were packing up their things for the day. Stools squeaked across the smooth floors. Easels or clipboards sliding back into place. The model at the center stood up, stretching her arms over her head as their professor instructed them on what to work on this weekend and to finish last assignments up. They’d just finished another open studio and there’d be a big project coming up soon enough… She was going to need to buy the new canvases and oil paints for that… Shit.

Her fingers twitched. Hoku couldn’t help but smile.

She loved what she did.

Even if you’re bad for my wallet.

“Looks like you finally need a new book,” Hoku’s smile dropped, fingers stopping at the edge of her book. The girl beside her leaned over, smiling, “You’ve been needing a new one, haven’t you?”

I don’t even remember your name. Hoku hadn’t bothered. She made a fair enough effort with remembering the names of her classmates, but this one in particular had made it clear where she stood. Wanted to be some high end artist—was on her way, probably, since she’d been showcased in several galas but—

The hidden hint behind her words was clear every time she spoke to Hoku. Blatant. A teasing curl of her lips.

“Don’t you think that’s sad?”

“You’re always using the front and back of each page,” she laughed. “I mean, the drawings are great, but you can afford a new one or two, right? I’ll donate one if you’re that prudent.”

A few eyes glanced over at the easy confrontation. Hoku kept her face even. After this semester, you won’t even matter.

“You can afford the tattoos right,” she continued with a light laugh, tapping the corner of her left eye where Hoku’s heart shaped tattoo was inked in around her eye, smeared at the end. “Just save a bit for a new sketchbook and some supplies while you’re at it. Got to keep up with your studies, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Hoku said, it was actually starting to bother her now. “What’s your name again?”

Someone’s pencil dropped behind them. He stooped down to pick it up, hiding his face.

Her classmate’s face flushed red. Her eyes flickered, back and forth, assessing the reaction of the people around them. Barely anyone was watching—who cared? They were all here to learn and to hone their skills. No one needed more drama.

Hoku’s lips pulled into a polite smile, revealing baby canines.

“Come on,” she said, laughing with a titter, “It’s been half a semester. It’s—”

“HOOOOOKKKKUUUUUU—” Thin but muscular arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. Hoku floundered for a second, almost tumbling back over her chair at the added weight. The smell of the sun washed around her and Luffy’s hair tickled her cheek, pressing in close as he jumped around, almost ripping her from her seat.

Warmth pressed into her back. Hoku’s shoulders relaxed, everything cleared. Her lips turned upwards into a wide grin.

Luffy was a destructive, bumbling dumbass most of the time—but he could always turn a mood into a better one.

Shanks rubs off on you too much. She thought fondly, a bit of stupid smile curling over her lips. Maybe that’s a good thing.

“Hoku! Hoku! You won’t believe this—come on! Let’s get lunch, I’m hungry. I’ve got awesome news! It’s gonna blow your mind and—”

“Calm down, dumbass!” Hoku snapped. A few of her classmates looked on in amusement. The girl from earlier had already retreated, saving face. Wiser ones started to move their things out of the way. “You’re going to break something again!”

Her professor didn’t mind friends coming in and visiting or sitting in on lectures. But Luffy’s regular presence barreling through the art department was considered a public menace and had to be dealt with accordingly. “I’ve never seen anyone launch themselves off the second floor and bounce around the way he does, so for the love of god please keep him away from the ceramics class—”

“Did you just finish class?” Hoku said, adjusting herself to account for Luffy’s added weight. She walked with a backwards slump, leaning as Luffy dragged along the floor hanging off her while she gathered her supplies.

“Yup! Nami went to go get a table!” Luffy said happily. “Come on, come on, let’s go eat! I’m starving!”

Her stomach rumbled in agreement. Hoku pressed a warning hand to her stomach, using the other to shove her backpack over her shoulder and purposefully shove into Luffy’s cheek. “I’m hurrying, but what were you saying earlier?”

She shoved her stuff into her bag as quickly as she could, flipping her sketchbook closed and turning toward the door. Luffy was starting to clamber up her back and she wasn’t sure she could support him if he decided to test if she could give him a piggyback ride.

“Oh, yeah!” Luffy said, cheek squished against her knuckles. “I think I found a job for ya! And it pays!”

“You found me a job—”

Hoku’s foot tripped over the other, sending them both toppling to the floor in a massive heap of one screech and Luffy’s monkey-like laughter. A student quickly grabbed his easel, jerking it out of the way as they smashed into the ground.

“Shishishi, you’re such a klutz.”

“If it’s Luffy, it’s probably some weird job throwing yourself off a cliff for fun,” Nami said warningly, neatly filed nails digging into the tangerine in her palm as she peeled it. “You guys are always talking about that explorer—what if it’s doing something illegal or—”

“Throwing yourself off a cliff and getting paid is fine,” Zoro said. He ran a hand through his spearmint colored hair, light catching off his golden earrings. “Just make sure you’re not secretly being employed for some kind of drug smuggling. You’re both idiots, so it’d happen.”

Luffy didn’t even look the slightest bit bothered, simply grinning stupidly to himself as he shoveled food into his mouth. Hoku—a little calmer and more sensible after stuffing her face with the cafeteria’s economically wonderful meal sets—gaped at the two of them in disbelief, blatantly offended.

The four of them were gathered in one of Grand College’s many cafeterias. Usopp was cramming last minute for another exam and should be running over any second. Hoku crossed her arms over her chest, shoving another forkful of pasta into her mouth. Nami leaned forward, setting a peeled tangerine down and smacking Luffy’s grabbing hands away as she set to work on another.

“I would not get involved in something like that without knowing,” Hoku grunted. Turning to Luffy she added, “If it’s drugs, I need to know how much it’s going to pay first.”

Zoro put her in a headlock, pointedly shoving her face into his chest where his nametag from his police training could smash into her cheek. Hoku’s arms flailed around, smacking into his cheek.

“Nah, it’s way better than any of that!” Luffy said, throwing his arms out in excitement. He stopped for a second. “Hey, wait, that sounds kinda fun—”

“Get on with it,” Nami and Zoro chorused.

Luffy grinned, turning to Hoku—who popped her head out over the top of Zoro’s tightened arm—with shining eyes. “Ace and Sabo are looking for someone to help them with this project!”

“Ace and Sabo?” Hoku’s eyes went round. A little box of memories peeled itself open, idle moments, pleasant laughter, warm memories wrapped around little flashes of awkward teenage encounters.

Hoku had known Luffy since she was a kid when his grandfather, a marine, had been stationed over in Hawaii at the time. Hoku’s parents had passed away a few years before that and after moving around, she’d spent some time with Mihawk until Garp swindled her into being looked after with Luffy…

She’d met Ace and Sabo young. When she was nine and they were ten--she remembered fighting all the time with Ace and Sabo being the genial, grinning mediator and those summers and years had been a great time and then she’d left to go live with Mihawk and eventually set up her own place. Their meetings were scattered in between coming to Luffy’s house with the three of them there after school—she and Luffy had gone to the same school for as long as she could remember—it’d gone on until high school, where meetings between them happened on occasion and then Hoku had left.

The two older brothers were great people—amazing even. Funny, easy to be around, always looking after Luffy first and foremost. She and Ace still butted heads and he could flip from a dotting older brother to an absolute menace but it’d been almost three years now since she’d last seen them.

Bright, golden blonde hair. Soot black waves. Hoku huffed over Zoro’s arm, resting her chin comfortably in the crook of his elbow. I wonder if they look any different… I think Luffy posted a picture not too long ago and they seemed well… She’d just never ended up getting in touch with them with everything she’d had going on.

It might be nice to see them again.

“I haven’t seen them in ages,” Hoku said thoughtfully. Luffy nodded his head so hard it almost snapped off. “How’re they doing?”

“They’re great!” Luffy said excitedly. “Never been better, and when they heard you came back into town forever ago, they’ve been saying they wanted to get in touch or somethin’ but they’ve been busy!”

“Your brothers?” Nami said, looking curious. “Isn’t Sabo working for that big designing company right now? The one that works with revolutionary protests through some of their lines?”

“Something like that,” Luffy said. “I never remember the name.”

“You never remember anything,” Zoro corrected. “I thought Ace was working part time as a firefighter. What kind of project would those two need help with? A fire proof line of clothes?”

Hoku looked interested. “That sounds kinda cool.”

Luffy nodded. Nami smacked the back of his head, urging him to continue. “Well, Ace does all kinds of stuff, but he models for Sabo’s work sometimes too. They’ve been doing a specific kinda work for some people.”

Luffy tipped his head to the side. His brows furrowed, crossing his arms over his chest in thought, “I think Sabo said something about… se… celery taste from one of their clients!”

“Selective,” Nami provided.

“Yeah, that! Anyway, one of ‘em wants something special done and Sabo remembered how good Hoku is with drawing and art and stuff!” Luffy said brightly. “I said you’re poor and you need a job—”

“Why’d you gotta say it like that, Lu?”

“And they were super excited and hoping you could help them out!” Luffy said. “See? It’s easy!”

“I’m not going to make your brothers pay me for something like that,” Hoku said, shaking her head in between Zoro’s arm. “They’ve done a lot for me before—they treated me like family when I was always bumming around at your place… I’ll just do it for free, what do they need? An ad? A—”

“Nono, dummy, they said they wanna pay ya because it’s a big job!” Luffy said. “It’ll take a lot of work or something and—ah! I almost forgot!”

Luffy grinned, shuffling around his pants’ pocket before he pulled out a crumpled, balled up paper. He handed it to Hoku, who reached around Zoro’s still loose and comfortable grip to fold it. “Sabo and Ace gave me this last week! It’s their numbers. Said to give them a call or text them if you were down to do it!”

“A week ago,” Zoro snorted. “Nice.”

“But I said we should all get together cause it’s been so long!” Luffy said cheerfully. He grinned, swinging his legs back and forth over the bench. “We can throw a party! Oh, man, we can make it huge and—”

“No parties until after midterms,” Nami said dangerously. “And whatever you decide, don’t forget we’ve got a girls day with Robin next week, Hoku!”

“Right, right,” Hoku said absently, staring at the two differently scrawled numbers—one in neat, even print and a more slurred, harder to read script. Ace and Sabo. “Well, I’ll text them and let them know I don’t mind helping out however. It’s the least I can do since it’s been so long.”

Hoku slumped, throwing herself half over Zoro’s lap. He shot her an unimpressed look and Hoku mimicked a limp fish.

“Maybe I’ll just work in the cafeteria,” Hoku said thoughtfully. “I can sneak meals and they’ll probably feed me too.”

“Sure,” Zoro said. “Like they’d let a klutz like you become a lunch lady. It’s bad enough that eyebrow freak cooks for anyone.”

Hoku made strangling motions at his neck. Zoro just shoved her face back into his lap, folding his arms on top of her head and yawning as she let out muffled screeches.

Luffy snickered. Nami finally relented and offered him a peeled tangerine. He popped it into his mouth and grinned, teeth shining and excitement bleeding into all of them.

“Oh, man, it’s been so long—this is gonna be great!”

“Contributing to society yet, you unemployed bum?”

Hoku’s face shot up from the second helping of curry she’d been about to shove into her mouth without further consideration. Her face twisted, grumpy and angry—but only in the kind of way that came off as entirely defensive because the words thrown at her were blatantly true and painful, damn it.

“Hey, you jerk,” Hoku snapped, waving her spoon at the asshole in front of her. “When I start making it big, you’re going to eat those words.”

The currently sitting definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Changed out of his hospital gear and classical surgeon attire—because being a heart surgeon with an emphasis in being able to do surgery on just about anything else because he was a genius called for a lot of hours—and dressed in easy jeans and a black turtleneck. The fluorescent lighting of the homey curry restaurant caught off his slender piercing. His dark tattoos peeked out from the rolled up sleeves of his cuffs, the neatly printed letters staring back at Hoku as he held his too large cup of coffee—black as sin because he still had a shift tonight.

Hoku always had to wonder what his patients thought every time they saw DEATH staring back at them on the hands of their doctor before going under on the table. She got away with the snow white hair and tattoos because she was an “artist” so no one bothered her much.

Probably shit their pants. Or just cry.

Doctor Trafalgar D. Water Law did not look impressed.

“Maybe,” he said dryly, “if you don’t eat everything else first.”

Hoku flinched back as though she’d been struck. She shoveled more curry into her mouth, glaring hard at him from across the table.

“I keep asking myself why I hang out with you,” Hoku said. “You’re always taking your time and then when I think we’re going to have a nice time, you find some way to cut me open again.”

Law took a sip of his coffee, “You do it to yourself. And I hang out with you. Not the other way around.”

“That’s bullshit,” Hoku said around her spoon. “And ya know it, Torao.”

The two were about as far from each other on the spectrum as possible when it came to a small world. As a doctor and about three years older than herself—there could’ve never been an excuse for their paths to cross. It just happened one day that her art club had been assigned to help remodel and work with the children of their local hospital and overseeing the entire thing had been Hoku the klutz from her art club and Doctor Law, resident bachelor heart surgeon.

“You can’t paint monsters in the child ward, it’ll literally scare them to death.”

“Are you even listening to the kids? They want a wall of creepy and fun stuff so they can tell stories to each other.”

“You’ll give them all nightmares and it will reflect poorly on their health.”

“I’ll give them all a reason to run and they’re going to be dancing out of this hospital from how fit they are.”

And then there’d been a celebration party for finishing the joint project and Hoku drank a little too much—or maybe she’d just eaten something bad—and then she was throwing up on Law’s shoes.

Hoku had also been the reason why one of his buddies, Penguin, had managed to graduate in their shared anatomy class. Law was also fairly good friends with Kid—fairly because they always talked shit about each other but still hung out—and there’d never been a reason not to know each other anymore.

Besides, even if she told Law he was a bastard and this and that, she genuinely enjoyed his company. He was looking out for her here and there in his twisted, clinical, at times cold-hearted way.

“But no,” Hoku admitted bitterly, slumping back into her chair. Law leaned back in his own, satisfied as he threw one arm behind the chair next to him and watched her in silence. “It’s been months now and I’m just barely getting by on any project I can… Did you know I was thinking about working at the amusement park? Or the pier? I hate water. Why would I even want to spend more time there—”

“You’re afraid of water, you don’t hate it,” Law corrected. “It’s called aquaphobia.”

Hoku mimicked him.

Law kicked her knee under the table. She jerked it back in, nearly jostling their small little booth. Hoku and Law both grabbed their drinks to steady them.

“I mean, I’m not that bad,” Hoku rubbed her chin, shaking her head. “I think I’m one hell of an artist actually… I can go back into mechanics and pick up a job engineering for a while but…”

Hoku let out a small sigh. “No, that won’t work. It’s gotta be drawing after all.”

“Eustass-ya is coming back into town,” Law said, knowing what—who—mechanics made them think of.

Hoku looked up. Her face was neutral, amiable. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mentioned it,” he said. “Don’t know when.”

Hoku hummed. She played with a carrot on her plate and shoved it to the side. Law scowled. She grudgingly scooped it back up. “I’ll give him a call when he arrives. Maybe we can grab lunch or something.”

Law watched her over the rim of his cup. Hoku waved a hand at him. “We still check up here and there. I mean, when it’s not angry texting—but that’s all in good fun.”

Law’s brows creased in a suit-yourself sort of way.

“You can shift gears a bit,” Law said. “Get a teaching degree and why don’t you apply as an art teacher? You’d still get to do what you loved while working on individual projects. Quit when you’re ready.”

Hoku lowered her arms onto the table, her face a little more sober. “That’s… That’s probably the best idea, isn’t it? But I dunno… me? Teaching?”

Hoku laughed. She rubbed the back of her neck, dragging her fingers down the side and staring hard at her warped reflection on the metal table.

“I don’t think…” she said and stopped. Hoku shook her head, “I don’t think any parent would want someone like me teaching their kids.”

Law’s eyes flickered. His expression loosened, brows a little less furrowed, face a little easier to approach.

“Hoku-ya—”

“But you know what,” Hoku started up again brightly, eyes flashing in determination as she grinned, “there was this girl in my class today—making digs about this and that and just wait. I’m going to pick up an awesome job and come in with my regular gear because I’m not an idiot who blows her cash on fancy materials!”

Hoku’s chest puffed out in pride. She grinned, proud as a peacock and tipped her chin high in the air. “Long live homemade art materials!”

“You’re the only one who can get away with that,” Law said. “Barely.”

“I’m so confident I’m going to get a job,” Hoku said. “That I’m paying for dinner tonight.”

Law looked vaguely amused. He let his chin rest on his palm, watching her.

“So if I went ahead and ordered the deluxe beef curry set—”

“I,” Hoku said, using her best bluffing face, “wouldn’t even blink.”

Law ended up ordering the set to-go. And paying for the meal—he simply stepped over Hoku’s embarrassingly fallen form when she tripped on her way to the cashier—and handed the food to her after dropping her off in front of her apartment before he took off for his night shift.

“Eat,” Law had threatened, rolling up his window and ignoring her cursing and ranting like she were no more than a fly at his car. “Skip meals and I’ll check you into the hospital myself.”

Hoku threw up both her middle fingers, stomping all the way to her apartment door for emphasis. Law’s sleek car waited in the parking lot until her door opened pointedly wide and closed before pulling off.

“I never skip meals,” Hoku muttered, shrugging her shoes off and hobbling into the living room after setting the food down on the counter. “I love eating.”

Her apartment wasn’t a grand thing, but it was a little more spacious for the great price she was paying. Banged up. Creaky pipes and floorboards—but it held, sturdy and true.

The two bedroom apartment had been shifted so one was her actual bedroom while the other was her studio and guest room—she usually ended up sleeping there when she was working late into the night anyway. Photos were thrown up left and right. Stacks of papers and sketchbooks were scattered all over the apartment. A massive poster hung over her bed of a certain red-haired explorer’s greatest and her favorite excursion.

A small television set and coffee table. A sectioned off kitchen with an island countertop. Her sleek, comfy leather black couch which was a gift from Mihawk—

Hoku flopped down onto the couch, sinking deep into the cushions. She let out one long, low groan.

I’m such a loser. Hoku pressed herself as deep into the couch as she could, willing it to swallow her whole and never let her see the light of day again. You were supposed to come back from those two years and be different. You haven’t done anything.

Her phone vibrated against her ass and Hoku lazily tugged it out of her pocket, half-throwing it toward her face.

“LETS TRY THIS PLACE IT LOOKS GOOD!!!!!” Hoku snorted at Luffy’s text, a smiling touching her lips and scrolling down. Usopp sent a photo of Zoro asleep on their couch. Training must be rough. Nami texted her a reminder to make a reminder in her phone for her date with Robin and the three of them. A notice from her professor about the material list for class next week.

“Heard things are turning up for you. Keep me posted.” Robin.

Hoku’s hand shuffled through her jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around the crumpled piece of paper and she carefully smoothed it back out, staring at the two numbers.

Honestly… she only really had good memories of Sabo and Ace. Well, when she and Ace weren’t butting heads or strangling each other about something. Luffy loved them as much as he could love anyone, so they’d always been important people to her too.

Grade school, middle school, high school… Hoku rifled through the mess of memories. Coming over to their house. Running from their grandfather. Crowding by a television. After school runs to the best food stalls… all just classic, simple memories.

Hoku pulled up an empty message, typing in both numbers into a new group chat. Her fingers hovered over the letters, contemplating the kind of greeting that should’ve fit a gap this long… They couldn’t have changed too much, right?

Hoku typed, deleted, re-typed for several minutes before finally hitting send and dropping her phone onto the rug, rolling over and burying her face between the couch cushions. A minute, two, her shoulders went slack and she finally fell asleep.

Another minute. A beat.

Her screen flickered to life with a response. A calm ten minutes later.

Hey, Ace, Sabo!

It’s Hoku—haha, it’s been awhile, huh? Sorry for being so shitty at staying in touch. Hope you guys are doing well! Are you still holding the three of you guys together? Ace haven’t lost his head yet dropping dead somewhere? Lu says you guys have been busy.

He finally gave me your numbers and mentioned you had a project you needed help with. Don’t worry about paying or anything, I’d be happy to help out! You guys are like family, y’know? I don’t know how much I can do, but let me know. Let’s catch up. :)

Changed at all?

Hoku,

It’s so nice to say your name again after so long! Took Luffy long enough. It’s been ages, hasn’t it? Ace and I are better than ever, well, trying at least. I’m so glad to finally speak with you again after all this time. I hope your trip was everything you needed and now you can enjoy a long stay back home. I could go on forever, but let’s save the rest for in person, shall we?

Yes! I’m not sure how much Luffy told you about it, but we’d love to discuss with you further. Face to face. When is the soonest you can meet? Ace is asleep right now, but I’ll let him know as soon as he wakes up. The lug.

Hope to be in contact with you soon,

Sabo.

Two minutes passed and a second message was sent, accompanied by a warm, smiling face.

Haven’t changed a bit. Missed you, Hoku.

Shit. Hoku exhaled, adjusting her tote bag over her shoulder—Luffy had bought it for her on a random splurge, dotted with stars. Her head tipped to the side, as though looking at the beautiful building would change what she was seeing.

A few people walked past her, offering strange looks.

The dessert restaurant was famous. Newly opened, lovely. Two floors with nothing but booths overlooking the city and cozy cafes where people could gather to enjoy all kinds of sweets—for those not as inclined to sugar, they had an array of sandwiches and anything to all varying tastes.

Hoku had been eyeing this place for months now, enviously searching through images online or drooling into her pillow as she scrolled through food bloggers. She and Nami and Robin were supposed to finally try it next weekend when Robin came back from her latest trip…

Lucky me. Hoku whistled, shaking her head as she stepped up to the patisserie and opened the door with a gentle jingle of the golden bell on top. Now I get to go twice.

She’d woken up, creases in her face from where she’d shoved herself between the couch cushions, to several new messages. The only one that’d stood out, neatly typed in a way most people would never text like a letter, and addressed with his name since she didn’t have his number already saved—

Sabo.

Hoku had stared at the message with wide eyes, not quite believing what she was seeing, drool dried to her chin. Hoku’s eyes had brightened and she’d quickly responded, getting even a little excited because—it was Ace and Sabo—they were good friends. I missed them.

It was supposed to be nice--reconnecting with people you hadn’t seen for a long time.

Hoku’s eyes searched the crowds of people gathered together, focusing on the host stand. A host stand for a bakery, damn. Hoku seemed to be on the lesser scale of dress—high waisted shorts with her halter top tucked in—but I’ll be alright. The entire first floor could be seen from the second story where people could make reservations for secluded booths to enjoy their sweets and tea. We should be on the first floor...

Hoku stopped short. She stood there in the middle of the bakery, face calm.

I mean they… Hoku’s eyes slowly scanned over the crowd one more time, doing a thorough comb over. They can’t be… that different right? Am I crazy?

She stopped at every blonde and black haired male, craning her head, shuffling around the bakery and trying to peek around to get a look at different faces. Trying and failing to be as discreet as possible. No freckles. No scar on the left side of his face. Nothing.

Hoku shuffled through her bag, fishing out her phone.

Right time. Hoku checked the message thoroughly. Right place. Meet here… there aren’t any other instructions. Am I just first?

If she remembered right, Sabo was always so punctual… Hoku made a face, turning around on her heel. Should I just go get a table? I’ll just go get a table—

“Excuse me miss, are you looking for your party?”

Hoku’s phone slipped like butter through her fingers. Her foot shot out, trying to catch it and she almost toppled over completely, grabbing the nearest chair and steadying herself.

The host who’d approached her looked horrified, as though he’d almost witness an apocalypse occur right before his eyes.

“Hi,” Hoku said. A few people were looking. She bent down to grab her phone, shoving it into her bag. “I—what?”

“Your party,” the host repeated kindly. “With a Mr. Sabo, correct?”

Hoku stared at the host with round eyes.

He smiled, “He told us to look out for you. He’s already waiting at the table if you’d like to follow me, miss.”

“Oh,” Hoku said dumbly. She straightened out, staring at the host like an idiot. “I… I didn’t see him. Where is he?”

“This way, miss,” the host gathered up a menu and began his ascent toward the steps.

Hoku stared at the stairs. Stairs led to a second floor. The second floor was a fancy floor.

Hoku pressed her hand into her mouth, staring.

Maybe it’s the wrong Sabo?

“Would you prefer the elevator, miss?” the host said, looking worried. “Forgive me—”

“No, no, no, stairs are fine!” Hoku quickly scampered after him. The host smiled, leading the way up the winding staircase the short distance to the second floor. “I just—I thought he was on the first floor. Sorry. Thank you for your time.” Stop talking, you dumbass.

The host continued to smile, leading them past a narrow walkway of several private rooms and booths. You can see everything from here. Hoku eyed the bottom floor, wondering if anyone had watched her flailing around like a mouse. Or a fish. Or just an idiot in general.

They walked a short distance, coming close to where part of the second floor was sectioned off against the railing of the top floor. The other half of the floor opened up with wide glass windows, showing the entire city and the bay across the distance.

This is so nice. Hoku glanced around in disbelief. I can’t imagine the price tags up here, gotta tell Nami and Robin.

A single booth sat at the end of the walkway, pushed to the back. A perfect vantage point of the entire first floor and the breathtaking view on the side—

Golden blonde hair fell a little longer now. It still had its wavy sort of curve, kissing the sculpted, angular line of his jaw. His eyes still had that soft little light to them, curious as he surveyed the menu in front of him. His skin was fair, a burn scar over the left side of his face, around his eye. There was a larger one hidden beneath the neat, cream dress shirt he wore inside a dark, navy blue sweater.

He looked older—more mature, a redefined version of himself, as though someone had simply adjusted the resolution of a good photo, complimenting what already was. Dapper and gentle and charming all at once—

But still, maybe, the same after all.

“Sabo!” Hoku’s eyes went wide, an easy grin touched her lips and she strode forward. Hesitancy lined the back of her steps, careful. Even if we got along fine and were pretty close, it’s still been awhile and—how do you do stuff like this again?

His eyes flickered upwards immediately, finding her with perfect ease. They went a little round, brightening in an instant. His lips turned upwards into one bright, warm smile.

Some small part of Hoku quieted. His eyes were warm, almost hot. He was looking at her like finally, finally, something had fallen into place and it was all right—

Hoku balked for a second, uncertain. Her heart warmed at the sight, a flood of pleasant memories and—

And what?

“Hoku!” that’s really his voice. It’s been so long. Sabo stood from his seat, stepping around the table into the walkway. The host behind them set the menu down, backing off so they could be alone. Hoku almost reached out to grab his arm and ask him to stay, just to have another person here because—why would you do something like that, you’re so weird, it’s just a reunion with someone you haven’t seen in awhile—

Sabo’s shiny loafers stopped a few feet from her. His arms had been raised for a second, but his face quickly shifted with obvious hesitation, waiting uncertainty. His lips pursed, waiting in that dorky expression of his. Brows a little furrowed. Hoku stood there like an idiot, telling her mind to shut up and—

Hoku let all other thoughts melt away. It was Sabo. She knew Sabo. She knew him when he was missing a tooth. This is Luffy’s brother. He’s practically family. She gathered her footing beneath her, steadying.

Hoku stepped into his embrace, meeting him the rest of the way. Sabo’s entire face lit up, eyes warming.

It was a ridiculously...nice feeling, to be looked at like that.

Her arms came around his middle and Sabo’s arms instantly wrapped tight around her in a bear hug, wrapping around her shoulders and holding her snug. He almost lifted her off her feet. Hoku laughed, patting his back as Sabo held her tight for a moment, the smell of his cologne washing over her, smelling like something expensive and roguish. He laughed back into the crown of her hair, air ghosting past her ears as he moved his head to the side then, right by her ear.

“Hoku!” Sabo said. “It’s been so long! It’s so good to finally see you-—look at you! You got taller!”

“Says you,” Hoku snorted, pulling back a bit so she could crane her head up to his face. Her ear twitched. Sabo laughed, loosening his grip around her so she could shift more comfortably in his arms. “Look at ya—who said you could grow this tall, you jerk?”

“You look absolutely wonderful,” Sabo said graciously. Hoku stiffened in surprise. She shuffled a bit backwards and Sabo quickly released his hold on her, letting her back out of the hug. “You do! You let your hair grow out—it looks beautiful.”

“No, I just,” Hoku stopped, pressing a hand to her mouth in surprise. “I forgot how you were. You’re always saying stuff like that—caught me off guard, ya bastard.”

“With a compliment?” Sabo laughed, a warm, breezy kind of sound. Hoku’s lips pulled up at the corners. “You deserve dozens more with how long it’s been.”

“You look great!” Hoku punched his chest lightly with a fist. Sabo grinned boyishly, beaming down at her. “All dressed up too—couldn’t beat that royal look out of you, could you?”

“Decided to embrace a different kind of style,” Sabo chuckled. “I’m not missing any teeth this time, right?”

The image of a beaming, grinning blonde boy with scuffed up shorts, a creased hat and a gap where his tooth was missing—Hoku’s smile widened. Yeah, that’s right. This is Sabo.

Sabo took a moment to look at her, as though he were seeing her again for the very first time. Hoku’s nerves rattled for a second, a chill racing down her spine. You’re just nervous. Calm down, you dumbass. His face visibly softened. The chill disappeared. Eyes warm, he clasped his hands together in front of him.

“I’m glad you’ve been well,” Sabo said softly, smiling. “It really is nice to see you again, Hoku.”

“I’m sorry I was so bad at staying in touch,” Hoku said, brows furrowing. “I should’ve called once or twice to check up on you guys… Luffy told stories every now and then and I guess that always seemed enough.”

“No, we should’ve made more of an effort on our part,” Sabo said. He guided her to the table and Hoku slipped into the seat in front of him. His fingers gently glided over her arm, over her skin, smoothly taking her bag and hooking it over the back of the chair. Hoku blinked, realizing she hadn’t even known that he’d been getting her bag—

For a brief moment, Hoku stilled. A force of habit. It only lasted a second, anyway.

Sabo’s frame towered over her. One hand resting on the edge of the chair where he was releasing the bag, the other steadying himself on the table but—

You’re boxed in.

And then Sabo was gone and she was free and Hoku relaxed even though she never should’ve been tense in the first place.

“I’m sorry Ace couldn’t come, he wanted to see you too,” Sabo said, pulling away with a frown. “He had an important shift today so he couldn’t get off.”

“We can definitely meet up again,” Hoku said surely. “With Lu next time too, catch up like old times. I want to see more of you guys for sure.”

Sabo smiled at her—it almost made her feel as though she were being praised for something. She’d said the right answer.

“Things just got so busy with work and you were in your third year,” Sabo said. He took a seat beside her, brows creased apologetically. “You were seeing someone at that time too, weren’t you? Relationships, school, it all gets so hectic.”

“That’s… yeah, that’s right,” Hoku blinked in realization. Sabo folded his hands together on top of the table, expression soft. Understanding. Kid and I were together and I was focused on spending time with everyone before I left and then….

Had she just forgotten about Ace and Sabo? Enough to not even give her best friend’s brothers a proper goodbye—

“That’s no excuse though,” Hoku said, brows furrowing. Had that really been what happened? Holy shit, Hoku. They’re like family—how could you do something like that? Kid had taken up a lot of her time sure, but she’d wanted to spend that time with everyone because she was going to be gone for so long. “Shit, I’m sorry Sabo—”

“Don’t even think about apologizing,” Sabo said, shaking his head sternly. Hoku’s lips pursed. “We could’ve called you just as easily as you could’ve called us. It’s a two way street. No one needs to apologize here.”

Even if you say that, I’m still going to make it up to you guys. Hoku huffed, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest in thought. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t suck.”

“Maybe,” Sabo said, a light chuckle. He looked so happy. It was hard not to keep staring at him, to feel happy herself. Infectious. A waiter came and swiftly left behind two steaming mugs and Hoku looked up in surprise. “Sorry! I took a guess at the menu—I’ve never been here before and I got what they recommended and looked the best…”

“No—you’re fine!” Hoku pulled the mug closer to her, eyes growing wide. She instantly grabbed for some sugar cubes and Sabo looked amused. “This is their apple tea, right? Ah, I’ve been wanting to try this, nice call.”

“Thank goodness,” Sabo seemed to deflate in absolute relief, melting down into his seat. Hoku snorted, staring at him in disbelief. “Sorry, I got worried for a second I ordered something awful--still like apples, huh?”

“Enough,” Hoku said. “My favorite is still—”

“Longan,” Sabo said.

Hoku blinked in surprise, looking up from the steaming cup in her hands.

Sabo smiled. He pulled his cup—coffee or an espresso by the smell of it—closer toward him. Sabo reached for the sugar jar. “I always think about you when I see them in stores—it’s such a weird fruit to choose to eat on your own, so I remember the time you had us all try it and—”

“Lu choked on the seeds,” Hoku’s lips curved fast into a grin, “I know what you mean. I always remember random things because of people too. You start to link people up with the stuff and places in your life.”

“Exactly,” Sabo said with a warm smile. He dropped a cube in, picking up the small spoon and starting to stir, slow and easy. “Come on, tell me all about it—how was everything? Luffy said it was something like a… soul searching experience?”

“Sort of,” Hoku laughed, pushing her hair back over her head and holding it there for a second. The apple tea smelled amazing. “I wanted to get in touch with some old family friends, help fix up the town I was born in… just spend some time there. It’s home, you know?”

Sabo looked openly curious, taking a sip of his coffee. “Are you thinking of settling there?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Hoku shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “Settling is a tentative word anyway. I love it here to much and all my friends are here, you know? I like my apartment and what I’ve got going fine.” Just minus a steady income.

“That’s true,” Sabo said, looking thoughtful. “There’s just so much here… It’d make more sense.”

“Mhm,” Hoku said. “But it was nice. I needed it. It helped me with a lot of sorting out and growing, I think.”

“The growing I can agree on,” Sabo said warmly. Hoku made a face. “You’re lovely, Hoku. You’ve always been.”

“Stop,” Hoku laughed, wrapping her hands around the cup. It warmed her palms. “I mean, I can talk about my trip and stuff, but what’s been going—”

“Wait,” Sabo said, looking surprised. “You said apartment—are you living off campus?”

“Yeah, like Lu,” Hoku said. “They’re apartment was too crowded, even though they offered a room, so I found my own place.”

“Ah,” Sabo said. He dropped another sugar cube into his coffee. “With your boyfriend?”

Hoku smiled softly. Her eyes dropped down to her tea, staring at the murky red color. Nowhere near the bright, flaming red— “Your hair’s like hot cheetos.” “Keep talking and I’m going to shove you out of my car.”—“Ah, no, nothing like that. Just me. We actually broke up about… a year ago now?”

Sabo’s face shifted instantly. His brows creased, spoon pausing in the air. Apologies flooded his eyes, mouth opening in quick understanding that he’d just asked something like that—but Hoku waved him off, shaking her head and hand in turn. “No, no, don’t even start. We parted on good terms. I was supposed to only be gone a year, but I decided to stay longer and we had a bit of a falling out and yada yada.”

Hoku smiled, earnest, “But we’re still good friends. No drama or anything.”

“Still,” Sabo said, brows creased, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry for asking so insensitively like that. You don’t just go barreling through past relationships—sorry, Hoku. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories—”

“There aren’t any,” Hoku said.

Sabo dropped his spoon into his coffee, starting to stir again, slow, “That’s good. It seems like you both handled it well, then.”

There really weren’t. Even with all their fighting and butting heads, they always sobered up and acted out of each other’s best interests when it came down to it. He’d wanted her to come back—come with him—and she hadn’t known what she was looking for—

Don’t think about that now. Hoku shook her head. This is a different occasion.

Hoku’s mouth opened, eager to shift gears—

“Why’d you decide to stay the extra year?” Sabo questioned, stirring absently. Hoku looked up. Her tea was starting to cool enough now so that it wouldn’t burn her tongue.

“I just realized a year wasn’t enough to find what I was looking for,” Hoku said. “It got hard, making the decision cause I missed everyone so much, but it was a good one. I think it helped.”

Her gut twisted. Had it? She might’ve had a great time—gotten to see Shanks with his surprise stay, Mihawk came and they explored the island her mother had loved, her friends visited—but had it? Here she was now, still moving through life, still going about things but had it—

Changed anything?

Hoku thought about the lack of jobs. Thought about Law’s suggestion to switch gears. Am I even doing things right? Kid slipped into the back of her mind. Yeah, they hadn’t ended on bad terms, but had her decision even been a right one? Had there ever been a reason for them to—

Quiet black gloves, a soft underside of leather, touched her hand. Hoku jumped, eyes dropping down and realizing she hadn’t even noticed Sabo’d been wearing gloves. That’s new. Her eyes flickered back up and she realized his face was creased in worry, eyes watching her openly. “Hoku?”

Shit. “I’m sorry,” Hoku said, pulling her hands back. Sabo’s hand dropped onto the table and he glanced to it for a moment before looking back to her. Hoku used one hand to grab her cup, the other pushing her hair back out of her face from habit. “Got lost in thought—what’d you say?”

“I’m just glad you’re back,” Sabo said. He pulled his hand back, letting it rest in his lap as he brought his cup back to his lips. “Hopefully to stay. Have you had a chance to do everything you’ve missed since coming home?”

“Oh, plenty,” Hoku said, slumping in relief at the change in topic. Think happy. Think Sabo. Don’t worry about the other stuff. He doesn’t need that. Or deserve it. “The lot of losers has been making sure I do.”

“I can imagine with them,” Sabo said, looking amused. He let his cheek rest onto one hand, using the other to twirl his cup. “Luffy always talks about you guys when we meet up. Took him long enough to finally get us in touch again.”

“That’s right!” Hoku clapped her hands together. Sabo blinked. Smiling like a lost puppy. “The whole reason for this—Lu said you guys needed help with a project right? What is it? I don’t know how much I can do but I’ll try my best—”

“So you only came today because of that?” Sabo mused, tipping his head to the side, resting on his hand. Strands of wavy blonde fell a bit onto the side of his face. “I thought we were catching up.”

Hoku paled, her jaw went slack. “No—oh my god—no. You guys don’t have to pay me—I won’t let you pay me. I just wanted to help—”

Sabo’s laugh broke through. Breezy, curling past her ears. Hoku stumbled over her words, stopping as his gloved fingers hid only parts of his bright smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just teasing. You’re still so easy to tease.”

Hoku’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. She settled back into her seat, rubbing the top of her head. “Ah, jeez. You’re awful, Sabs.”

Sabo’s smile widened behind his fingers. His eyes were impossibly warm and Hoku stopped, staring. “What? You keep looking at me with that dumb smile—”

“I was wondering if you’d call me that again,” Sabo admitted, eyes softer now, still so, so warm.

Hoku blinked. She laughed, “You could’ve just asked. I’m sure other people call you that too. You’re so weird.”

“Maybe,” Sabo agreed, looking amused by her choice of words. “Hoku, what have you been up to aside from—”

“No, wait,” Hoku waved her hands, halting him.

Her eyes were on the table. Sabo’s eyes flickered briefly. He pulled his hand away from his mouth, adjusting his comfortable position to sit back in his seat. Hoku glanced back up to him to see a patient smile. It’d felt like the poor guy had to direct this entire conversation, Hoku didn’t even realize how much he was guiding it.

“The project,” Hoku said. “That first. I keep getting all twisted up with you. There’s too much to talk about. Let’s do that first.”

“Alright then,” Sabo said, a little laugh to his words. “It’s… Well, it’s less of a project and more of a personal request from a client of ours for a… specific piece of artwork.”

“That seems simple enough,” Hoku said, her hands curling around her tea to finally take a sip. “But last I heard, you and Ace are doing different kinds of work—is there a reason why they went to you?”

“There is,” Sabo said with a nod. He reached a gloved hand out across the table. Hoku blinked, curious, but Sabo waited patiently.

Hoku pulled her hands away from her tea. She limply poked Sabo’s gloved hand. The blonde laughed, shoulders shaking with the motion. “No, see, I’m not sure if you’re familiar or if Luffy told you, but I’ve been working with a designer company for a long time now. A close coworker and friend of mine designed these.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Hoku said, feeling a little stupid. The brand was labeled neatly, tucked away to not be too flashy on the inner seam of the glove. “Liberator, right? So the client met you two from this?”

“Catching on quick,” Sabo praised. Hoku’s cheeks flushed a bit and she rubbed the back of her neck. Sabo smiled warmly, “Sure enough, both of us are nowhere near a more… artistic sense of experience. I’ve been working and Ace models from time to time, but our client approached us from that line of work. We’ve been helping them out with their requests and they had a more specific one this time. They wanted a portrait. Or a series of them, to keep.”

Sabo sighed, leaning back in his seat. He laced his fingers together over the table. “It had us both stumped for awhile, to be honest. It seemed doable, but we didn’t know who to go to for something of this nature—but then we remembered Luffy mentioning you were back and town and he said you’ve been running into awful luck with work—”

Hoku sank lower in her seat, “How much did he say about that?”

Sabo’s face didn’t hold a hint of judgement. There was a fond sort of pity and understanding, he winced on her behalf, “You seem to be struggling quite a bit financially is what we got from it.”

Hoku grumbled to herself. Damn it, Luffy and your dumbass, big mouth. “Listen, it really isn’t that bad—”

“Don’t worry,” Sabo said, “I won’t pry. I want to. But I won’t. It’s not fair to come barging into your life after all this time and tell you whatnot just because.”

“I know you guys wouldn’t mean it like that,” Hoku said, feeling horribly touched at his words. And… relieved. He’d said exactly what she’d been hoping to hear. “You just care. You guys have always been sweet on those you care about.”

Sabo rubbed the back of his neck this time, looking sheepish. “It’s nothing like that—”

“No, no, it is,” Hoku said. “But anyway, forget about money. Keep goin’.”

“Well, it still has to do with money, actually,” Sabo said. “We both wanted you instantly because we love the way you draw—you’ve always been amazing at it, no matter what it was.”

Hoku’s chest flooded with unrestrained pride. She sank lower into her seat, covering her forehead with one hand and biting her lower lip. “I—I still have a lot to work on—”

“Hoku, look at me.”

Hoku followed the instruction, startled.

Sabo’s face was stern. His eyes held her in place, brows creased in that little way to show how earnestly he meant what he was about to say. “Hoku, you’re an amazing artist.”

Hoku grabbed her tea cup. Sabo opened his mouth, eyes flickering quickly with something—but she already brought it roughly to her lips, a bit sloshing over as she took a long, hard sip—it was delicious—and swallowed.

A bit dripped down her chin. Hoku laughed, a little too loud, flustered and embarrassed and yeah, it’s nice to hear all that but it doesn’t make it any less—I dunno. She was always shit at stuff like this. “Okay, I get it, you like the drawings—what’s the job—”

Sabo’s expression looked lost for a moment. Hoku blinked, realizing he seemed entirely zoned out. His eyes were following something on the corner of her chin and Hoku stopped, quickly rubbing at the tea that’d spilled down her chin—

“I’m sorry,” Sabo said, blinking back into focus. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face for a moment and then smiling at her. “I didn’t catch that. I lost my train of thought this time.”

“No, you’re fine,” Hoku said. “We’re even now.”

Sabo stared at her for a second before he said, a bit soft, “You’re awful at listening to directions, aren’t you?”

“A bit,” Hoku said. Sabo’s fingers curled around his cup. “Keep going about that client. Needed an artist. What’s next?”

“Ah, yes,” Sabo folded his hands back together onto the table. “Well, we figured we were killing two birds with one stone by asking you. Help you out with your situation, and secure the piece we needed for this request. We’ll need you twice a week for an entire month, starting as soon as you can. It’ll only be in the evening, and we can work around your school schedule, but when you come in, how long it runs for may vary each time. We can supply any materials you’ll need, canvases and all, and all you’ll have to do is just draw.”

“That sounds…” Hoku said, “Really well-thought out.”

Sabo smiled, “We tried to be thorough with our planning to make sure everything went smoothly.”

“I… I don’t see any reason why not,” Hoku said, blinking. “You just need me to draw specific pieces—what is your client looking for? It sounds like there’ll be a model or a specific scene in mind. And honestly, Sabs, don’t even worry about the payment—I’d just like to help you guys out.”

“I have to insist you take the pay,” Sabo said, shaking his head. “It isn’t coming from Ace or I, honest. It’s directly paid from the client. And I have to say, they do pay rather handsomely.”

“Then you guys should keep the money,” Hoku protested. “I really can’t—”

“You’re the one doing the work,” Sabo said. “I have to insist.”

“But if they’re a friend of yours, I don’t want to make them pay,” Hoku said. “It won’t be too much trouble. I might not even be up to their standards—”

“Our business is strictly professional,” Sabo reassured. Fingers folded neatly together, sitting on top of the table. “You can take the pay, it really isn’t—”

“I’m not going to do the job if you guys are gonna pay me.”

Sabo stopped. Hoku’s face was set, stern. Sabo stared at her for a long, long minute, hands still folded so neatly in front of him and eyes quiet—

Sabo smiled, his face was playful, “Still as stubborn as ever.”

“Enough about money,” Hoku said. I’m sick of thinking about it, honestly. “What are they looking to have drawn? It doesn’t sound like it’s something off the top of my head. What’d they have in mind?”

“Ah, well,” Sabo looked a little thoughtful this time, contemplative. He seemed to be working through his words before he faced her evenly, an air of professionalism coating his friendly demeanor. “I don’t doubt your skills in the slightest, Hoku. I remember you’ve always been fond of drawing people too…”

Hoku waited, holding her cup in her hands. I’ve been taking forever to drink this thing. I keep getting distracted.

“I have to ask though,” Sabo said, “are you well acquainted with drawing anatomy?”

“Sure,” Hoku said, the cup at her lips. She’d assistant taught an anatomy drawing class. “All ranges. You’re right, people are usually my go-to for focus.”

Sabo leaned forward onto his elbows. His hands were interwoven together, placed over the lower half of his face. His expression was neutral.

“Nude models as well?”

Hoku nodded, not missing a beat. She’d dealt with the initial embarrassment of drawing nude models years ago from earlier classes. At the end of the day, it bled into a kind of intrigue to figure out how well you could draw people, at their rawest, at their most bare—it was intimate, and you wanted to make it beautiful. They all had the same body parts at the heart of it—when it came to her pencil and paper, there was nothing else to think about except the drawing. No strings attached.

I mean, Hoku felt an inch of heat creep up the back of her neck. It colored the top of her ears. It’s not like I’ve never been naked with anyone before… either…

Sabo watched her over the top of his fingers.

“I won’t scream or run out of the room if I see boobs or someone’s junk,” Hoku said flatly. Sabo’s lips turned up at the corners, holding back a laugh. “I’ve done nude shoots plenty of times, so don’t worry about that.”

“That’s good,” Sabo said, “See, our client is looking for something of a more… intimate nature.”

When you’re undressed like that in front of anyone, it’s already something intimate. Hoku nodded, following along.

“It’ll be an entirely private affair,” Sabo said evenly. “Closed quarters. Our clients are trusted people. Strictly business. You won’t have to worry about having your name attached to anything either, unless you’re particularly proud of a piece and want to use it for anything.”

His reflection in the dark cup of coffee couldn’t be seen, less than half full. Hoku’s reflection warbled back against her tea.

“You’ll only have to draw,” he said. “The time frames will range though, forgive me on that.”

Hoku shook her head, “You really have nothing to apologize for, honestly.”

Sabo smiled over the top of his hands. “There won’t be any given cues. They’re looking for something… natural. Whatever catches your eye in the moment it all happens, you choose what you’d like to draw. Whatever stands out to the artist should be worth something, after all.”

Free reign. Hoku nodded thoughtfully. She’d done some works like this before—almost like hiring a photographer, but looking for someone to draw it instead.

Sabo let out a loud sigh. Hoku looked up, curious. His shoulders had slumped, face visibly relaxed as he offered her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. Working this out with you has lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. You have no idea how much you’re helping us out with this. We… we really needed the help.”

I’ll do my best. These guys have always been nothing but kind to me. Hoku straightened.

“When do you think is the soonest you can start?” Sabo questioned.

“Whenever!” Hoku said eagerly. “I’m in school Monday through Thursday, but classes end way before the evening. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“Today’s Wednesday,” Sabo pulled out his phone, opening up his calendar. “Will Friday be too soon? The timing is perfect since it’s the first of the month…”

“No, that’s totally fine,” Hoku said, nodding. “I can do Friday.”

“I’ll text you the time and address then and further information,” Sabo said cheerfully. He turned his phone over face down onto the table, focusing back on her. “You can send me a list of anything you might need and we’ll have it ready.”

“I have a lot of my own supplies,” Hoku said. “Maybe just let me know if there’s specific size or style your client is looking for. Charcoal, ink, graphite—”

“Classic pencil should do,” Sabo said easily. “They’re not too picky.”

“Will the client be the model?” Hoku said.

“Ace, the client, and myself,” Sabo answered cleanly. “Poses will range. The entire thing will be a bit like… a simulation, if you will. If there was a moment where something stood out and you couldn’t capture it, we have cameras recording in the room on all sides, so just let us know after it’s done and we can send you the tapes.”

Ace and Sabo… Hoku’s brows furrowed. Her gut shifted a little. That… That might get a little weird, won’t it? Drawing them naked is kind of weird.

“We really needed the help.”

“Will any of that be a problem?” Sabo asked gently, brows furrowed in worry.

Hoku’s stomach twisted a bit more.

You’ve drawn your friends in all kinds of ways before. Hoku reminded herself. You helped your classmates with their own projects—you’ve drawn people you know really well nude and different and all kinds of different things—it’s just that. No strings attached. It’s not really intimate at all.

“None at all,” Hoku said.

It was just another job. Pencil and paper. Nothing more.

“And Hoku?”

She looked up. Sabo’s face was earnest.

“If there’s ever a moment where it’s too much, you want to quit, or you just don’t feel comfortable,” Sabo said gently. “You can leave whenever you want. We understand. If you can’t handle it, don’t worry. It’s completely up to you.”

“Can’t handle it?”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” Hoku said, ignoring the old, bitter memory. The tightness around her throat. The sound of water rushing all around her. “Don’t worry.”

Sabo smiled.

Hoku flopped down onto the train seat, knocking her head back on the reinforced glass. The business man beside her didn’t even look up, eyes falling heavy with sleep. Same, man, same.

She shouldn’t be tired. The rest of the meet-up went… amazingly. They stopped talking business and just caught up like old friends. Hoku laughed a lot, ate a lot, constantly being fed this and that as Sabo ordered with reckless abandon—“But it all looks so good!” and when she’d tried to run to the cashier to pay because that’d been her plan all along—she was left staring at the smiling host from earlier as he held up Sabo’s sleek black credit card.

To be honest, she’d felt completely and utterly spoiled. A feeling that always had her on edge and made her feel funny because—I don’t deserve shit like this. Sabo had kindly offered to drive her home, but she had to put her foot down there—and even then that’d been a fight until Hoku had just booked it to the station, waving over her shoulder at a laughing Sabo left behind.

“We’ll meet up before the session starts on Friday with Ace to finalize some things.” Hoku lazily tugged out her phone, scrolling through the new messages. “Give you guys plenty of time to catch up and then get right to work.”

One month. Hoku pulled up her calendar. Aside from school and the impulsive or random hang outs with everyone—ah, gotta drop off food for Law—she had nothing planned. Because you’re an unemployed loser.

She could do this. It seemed easy enough. The only thing that didn’t sit right with her was the nature of how Ace and Sabo would be, but it was possibly they wouldn’t even be nude. Maybe someone wanted a beautiful drawing with two handsome men—yeah, I can do something like that.

It gave her something to do. Keep herself busy. Even if she didn’t take the pay, at least she’d be working.

A notification popped up and Hoku paused for a second before sliding it open. The photo opened up from the art platform she used to post new works and keep herself posted with—

This month’s. Working on the next.

His work was edgy. As always. The sleek slabs of metal had been made to look a chrome silver—they caught off the light, reflecting back the opening jaws of a monster made of his own creation but—

It was awesome.

Hoku stared at the new project. The train rumbled beneath her feet, shifting occasionally.

“Stick to your cars.” Hoku typed out finally, posting the comment with a face. She looked forward, the train fairly busy with other people all heading home from long days and late shifts.

She needed to get moving too.

Her phone lit up in her hands. Hoku smiled, pulling up the message. Luffy’s eager voice through the texts bled through instantly.

“HOW DID IT GOOOOOOO????”

“GREAT.” Hoku typed back. “GONNA HELP THEM ON FRIIIIIIDAAAAAAAY.”

Incoherent, misspelled words came back. Hoku stared, waiting for something to understand until a video was sent. She glanced around, lowering her volume in case and opening up the video.

The camera was violently shaky. Luffy was obviously running—his feet the only thing in view. The phone lifted up to where Zoro and Usopp were lounging on the couch and it looked like Sanji was in the kitchen—

“GUYS!!!!” Luffy’s voice shouted. The man beside her jumped. Hoku winced. “HOKU’S GETTING A JOB! SHE’S NOT A LOSER ANYMORE!”

Hoku slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. Usopp fell off the couch, startled from his doze. Zoro tipped his head back. “Bust out the booze.”

Sanji popped out from the kitchen, looking hurt. “Hoku honey, I said you could work at our restaurant—”

The video cut out with Luffy shoving a thumb up into the camera.

Hoku smiled, staring at her screen for a long time, holding it in front of her.

She could do this.

She had to.

“We’ll meet an hour before the session starts.”

Hoku stepped into the sleek, polished elevator. The apartment complex was unnervingly nice. She remembered muddy hills. Dangerous forests. Creaky houses and three loud boys. This—one of the clearly nicer apartment buildings in their city—wasn’t what she was used to seeing. Ace and Sabo were clearly doing really well.

“We’ll be doing this at our apartment. This is the address and the code. We have a… studio of sorts for this type of work. Everything will be prepared beforehand so don’t worry about having to arrange anything.”

Hoku adjusted the collar of her blank white t-shirt, tucked into the waistband of her light washed jeans. She pulled her bomber jacket tighter over herself. Her bigger canvas bag was slung over her shoulder, all her supplies shoved in.

“Is there a certain way I should dress?”

“Perhaps nothing too… flashy? Just make sure you’re comfortable. No real dress code. You’ll be working for what might be several hours.”

Hoku’s fingers reached out, pausing at the button. Ninth floor.

Nine wasn’t a really lucky number by her books.

“Our client has already been informed, so don’t worry about anything. You’ll need to stay on the quieter side though, if that’s alright. Your station is positioned nicely in the room so you can move and get whatever angles you need.”

Hoku hit the button. The floor numbers lit up as the elevator lifted her to the apartment.

“We’ll start officially at nine.”

The wall gave way to glass. Hoku glanced to the city lights, flickering and shifting across the streets.

“You can have a moment to do anything you need before we begin. We won’t be able to stop once we start.”

The doors to the elevator slid open. Hoku stepped out, realizing with wide eyes that the entire floor was reserved for a single apartment. How big is this place?

Double doors waited at the end of the hallway.

Hoku shifted her bag and walked toward it, humming a bit to herself. Wonder if Ace is still annoying.

“We’ll walk you through anything else before we start. Answer any questions.”

Hoku stopped in front of the pearly white doors. She stared at it for a second, the tune dying on her lips. Something churned in her gut. A funny feeling.

It’s just another drawing session.

“Thank you again, Hoku. You don’t know what this means to us.”

Hoku knocked firmly against the door. She waited, shoving her hands into her pockets. This’ll be good for you. You need this change of pace. And besides, you get to do it with two good friends—

“You’ll be helping us, a lot.”

Hoku heard muffled footsteps on the other side of the door. A lock, two, slid out of place. The door opened inwards and Hoku looked up.

Eyes like charcoal. A little gray—almost silver in linings. A constellation of light freckles dusted over his cheeks. Sun-kissed skin. Soot black hair that framed the sharp line of his jaw and the familiar smell of something smoldering—like burning pine or with a little more bite to it—

Still a little roguish looking, wild. Still had that grumpy crease to his brows—

Portgas D. Ace.

Ace stared at her for a second and then promptly shut the door in her face.

Still a little piece of shit—

“What’s the password?” Ace said, muffled behind the door.

Hoku snorted. She kept her hands in her pockets.

“I guess I’m not wanted for the job,” Hoku answered. “Thanks for the interview anyway—”

The door swung open. Ace’s hand shot out, grabbing the back of her jacket just as she was turning. Hoku choked, arms flailing as she was roughly tugged back into the entrance of the apartment.

Ace’s bare foot shot out around her, kicking the door closed and twisting one of the locks between his toes—what the fuck you actual monkey—and then he was turning her around to face him.

Hoku spat her hair out of her mouth. Staring.

He had a shirt on for once. Tucked into a pair of black jeans.

That stupid, boyish grin split across his face, showing his always oddly sharp canines and making crinkles show up around his eyes. That dumb, happy, dorky grin—

Hoku’s heart did a funny thing, the kind of thing that reminded you just how much you missed someone and hurt you for not making an effort to see them sooner because—

“Hey, shooting star,” Ace said, voice deep and light all at once, clearly filled with mirth, “How’ve you been?”

“Hey, dumbass,” Hoku said, unable to stop the wide smile on her lips and not even trying to. “Been awhile, huh?”

Ace’s face soured at the name. He grabbed the back of her head, shoving it straight into his chest. Hoku let out a muffled squawk. Her hands shot out, smacking at his arms, but Ace promptly clamped them down firmly in a bear hug around her and lifted her off her feet. “I think you forgot who you’re talking too. Who said you could get that cheeky, huh?”

Hoku let out muffled curses against his shirt, getting a mouthful of cologne and cotton. Ace turned around, about to haul her out of the entryway until Sabo’s head peeked around the corner.

“At least let her take her shoes off,” Sabo said. Ace looked down to where Hoku was already struggling to shove her sneakers off with the other foot despite her constrained form. “You know how she is about that.”

“I have to make up for two years worth of contact,”Ace said simply, without any regret. “It starts now.”

“Make sure you let her breathe first,” Sabo said, amused. “Or you’ll lose her before that.”

Ace relinquished his hold. Hoku almost fell back, tripping over her shoes still half on her feet. Ace grinned, a deft finger sliding through one of her empty belt loops and stopping her from falling onto her ass. He tugged her back onto her feet and Hoku shot both hands out, steadying herself. Her eyes darted around, frazzled and flustered for a second before her face shifted into a deep scowl.

“I don’t miss any of that,” Hoku said darkly. “No wonder I never reached out to you.”

“No, you’re just awful,” Ace said. “Look at you. You look like you’re about to cry. Should’ve called if you were going to miss us that much, shooting star.”

“I look like this because I almost died from cotton suffocation,” Hoku snapped. Ace used one finger to dig something out of his ear, turning away from her. Nope. Didn’t miss him at all. Not one bit.

Hoku thought about tumbling down hills and climbing up trees and their stupid faces popping into classrooms and--

She sniffled. Nope. Not one bit.

“You’re still as grumpy as ever,” Ace said. He yawned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sabo said you got nicer, guess he was wrong.”

Hoku tossed her shoe at the back of his head. Ace yelped, turning around with wide eyes and grabbing the back of his head in pain. “You hit me!”

“I’m about to kick your ass too,” Hoku said, waving her other shoe.

Ace’s lips split into a wild grin. He turned, raising his hands to tackle her. Hoku readied her shoe, taking in the healthy, lively look in his eyes and the bright teeth and—

Her shoulders couldn’t help but slump a bit. Her brows softened. “You look good.” I’m glad.

She and Ace had always butted heads the most. Fought the most. Tousled with each other the most—but Ace had also been the one she couldn’t help worrying about from time to time because he’d been such an angry brat as a kid and—

Ace looked as though she’d slapped him silly. He stared at her, jaw stupidly slack and then his cheeks flushed a dark red. He slapped a hand over his mouth, stumbling back one step and fumbling for his words as he rubbed the back of his neck furiously.

“You can’t just say stuff like that,” Ace said hotly, “Aw, jeez—you’re cheating—”

“You’re such an idiot,” Hoku laughed, dropping her shoe and stepping into their apartment.

See? Hoku let any lingering, stray doubts fade away. Easy and comfortable. You’re going to be fine.

Immediately the space opened up to a massive living room. A shining coffee table in the center, sleek and new. Windows opened up to a massive view, curtains currently pulled open to showcase the entire city. A long, comfortable looking couch and a separate recliner. A book shelf, neat and organized. Sabo. A shiny new television screen and set and the space opened up to a massive island that shifted toward a giant kitchen—

“How much are you guys making?” Hoku squawked. Sabo chuckled and Ace grinned, crossing his arms over his chest with a puff of pride. “What the hell happened to leaking ceilings and broken drywall—did you rob a bank while I was gone?”

“Being awesome pays,” Ace said with a cocky grin.

“Our work leaves us comfortable,” Sabo said. He appeared at her side, clad in a navy blue turtleneck and black pants. He set down a pair of house slippers for her and smiled up at her. “Seems like you two are already catching up like you’d never left, and I hate to interrupt…”

“Ah, shit, it’s already almost time,” Ace glanced to his watch and back to the door. “Good thing we got everything set already.”

Sabo nodded. Hoku stepped into the slippers. Nice fit. The blonde offered to take her bag, but she waved him off. He curled his fingers back to his chest, looking amused.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Sabo offered kindly. “Take a seat on the couch, we can go over last minute details before we start.”

“No, I’m fine,” Hoku said, swatting Ace’s hands away when he playfully tried to herd her toward the living room. Sabo’s eyes flickered above her head toward Ace and Hoku made her way gingerly toward their living room. “Thank you though.”

“Take your jacket off if you’d like,” Sabo said. “The room might get a bit warm.”

Her jacket was making her a bit more comfortable, if she had to be honest. Purposefully not doing it seemed a bit rude to a second kind request from Sabo though. Hoku dutifully started shrugging it off and she almost jumped when two hands came on either side of her arms, pulling her jacket away from her with a gust of warm skin and heat.

“Still as jumpy as ever,” Ace said above her, teasing.

“Think I can’t take off my own jacket?” Hoku said, pointedly shoving her arms the rest of the way past his fingers.

Ace snorted. “You trip over air.”

Hoku scowled, turning away as her fingers slipped from her jacket sleeves. Ace pulled it away, watching her back.

He handed it to Sabo, who took it with nimble fingers, folding it once and laying it over the back of one of the dining chairs.

The long, leather couch was tempting, but Hoku wisely opted for the love seat placed in front of the coffee table beside the gas powered fireplace. Ace took a seat on the couch, throwing one arm casually behind it and getting comfortable while Sabo walked over to the two of them, taking a seat beside his brother as he set two water bottles down.

“I brought my bigger sketchbook,” Hoku said. “Just in case. But Sabs said you guys had the drawing table set up so I’ll work directly onto the paper and just let me know if your client wants it finalized on a better sheet.”

Ace took one of the bottles, unscrewing the cap. His eyes turned sideways to Sabo, “You two already went over everything, right?”

Sabo nodded, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands together on top of his knee. “For the most part. You remember everything I told you, right Hoku?”

“Read it over a couple times just in case,” Hoku said. She ticked off her fingers. “Quiet as a mouse. I’m no more than just an observer after all, right? Pick a shot that stands out the most to me and draw that. There won’t be any guidance. Keep it all confidential for the client’s and your guys’ sake. Comfy clothes…”

She’d already silenced her phone. Pulled her hair back into a ponytail to maintain an air of professionalism for their client…

Sabo smiled, lids a little low, pleased. “Good job, Hoku.”

Hoku smiled idly at the praise. “Nothing to give me credit for—it’s a job. It’s the least I should do.”

Yeah. Hoku thought resolutely. You can do this. You’re helping a couple friends out.

Ace watched her over the top of his water bottle. His eyes traveled down the half-heart tattoo over her eyes, dipping to where her t-shirt showed a bit of her collarbone where a smattering of petals were tattooed over her shoulder.

“Any new tattoos?” Ace questioned curiously. Sabo glanced to him, pausing mid-way to grab his bottle.

Hoku didn’t look up from checking her materials in her bag, “Maybe one or two. You still got that gang of yours on your back—”

“Our client should be here in a few minutes,” Sabo turned to Ace. His brother’s expression shifted briefly before settling, head dipping a bit in a nod. “I know you’re a bit behind on catching up, but that is your fault for forgetting to call off.”

“It was last minute!” Ace complained.

Sabo glanced to the expensive looking watch on his wrist. He slipped a thin, flat looking box out of his pocket and casually pressed a button, watching it for a moment before he put it back into his pocket. Ace’s eyes flashed back to him briefly, but his attention swung back to Hoku, whose face had turned a bit constipated as she held up her phone.

“Sorry,” Hoku said, a bit sheepish. “Uh, blame Luffy?”

Ace grumbled without real menace, folding his arms across his chest. Sabo smiled well-naturedly, turning his focus back to Hoku.

“As I said, we already briefed our client on everything,” Sabo said. “So don’t worry. She won’t be surprised. You’ll be in your space and we’ll be in ours and you just have to do what you need to do. Don’t worry about anything that happens either—t’s all been discussed. Just focus on what you’re doing.”

Hoku felt the curiosity from earlier stir. She set her bag down on top of her lap. Ace tipped the bottle back, taking a long swig as his adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A bit of water dripped down his chin, past his throat.

“You said it was like a simulation,” Hoku said. Sabo waited, listening, “Is it… Is it going to be like acting something out? Like a play or a scene she’s looking for?”

“You want to see for yourself?” Ace questioned absently. Dark eyes watched her over the top of his bottle, clashing with his light voice—

Sabo shot Ace a chiding look, lined with a bit of bemusement. Ace shrugged.

Hoku’s eyes were on her memo book, scribbling a note to herself in. Look for a good moment. “Hired an artist, not a model.”

“Mmm,” Sabo rubbed his chin, curling his fingers beneath it as his eyes flickered in thought. “Acting something out… You could say it’s something like that. As I said before, it’ll be on a more intimate affair, so I hope you won’t be startled—”

“I won’t,” Hoku promised. She’d already braced herself by going over old sketches of different poses and angles in her nude studies and drawing sessions—she was expecting some of the ‘worst’ in a sense, and reminded herself that it was just—

Another drawing.

Even if you know these guys like brothers, she thought a little limply. Just wash it out of your brain later.

“Perfect,” Ace said simply. “Then there shouldn’t be anymore problems, right? Let’s get started.”

Sabo shot him an amused look. Ace clapped his hands together, locking them behind his head in an easy posture. Hoku nodded, gathering up her bag. “Lead the way—”

“Hoku?”

Hoku stopped. She looked back up at Sabo. “Yeah, Sabs?”

Sabo’s lip twitched. Something flickered through his eyes, concealed beneath gentle amusement and a hint of fondness. He leaned forward, making sure their gazes met.

“I just wanted to remind you again,” Sabo said, warmly, he seemed to wait a bit. Hoku turned fully to face him. He continued, “If any of this seems too much for you or gets too uncomfortable—we can stop. We don’t want to ruin anything or make things weird if this makes you uneasy—”

“I’ll be fine,” Hoku said, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry.”

“If it does get too much though,” Ace added. “Maybe hold off on saying anything till after. I dunno if Sabo told you yet, but it’s hard to stop once we get started—”

“Don’t worry,” Hoku repeated, shaking her head. “It won’t.”

“Then,” Sabo said smoothly. He stood up to his full height and Hoku adjusted her bag. Her eyes dropped to his hands, realizing he was wearing gloves indoors—for the drawing session? “Any other questions before we start?”

Hoku ran over all the instructions twice. This whole thing seemed a little more edgier than she was used to, intimately professional. But it was just another drawing session at the end of the day, right?

Sabo walked around the coffee table, even steps stopping beside her. He lowered a hand to her back, guiding her toward the hallway politely. Ace remained on the couch, watching them with half-lidded eyes as they turned toward the specific hallway—

Hoku snapped her fingers, looking up at Sabo. The brothers turned to her curiously.

“I know you said I had free reign,” Hoku said, eyes wide with realization. “But is there a specific… I dunno, look she might be going for? A moment in this whole thing I should pay attention too or keep an eye out for…”

Sabo tipped his head to the side, considering his answer. Ace tipped his head onto the back of the couch, fingers laced behind his head.

A slow, lazy smile curved over his lips. His canines peeked through. Ace’s expression was satisfied and amused all at once—as though he’d just told the greatest joke in the entire world.

“Probably,” Ace said, “the climax.”

The room—the studio—was massive.

The entire room fitted like a master bedroom. It seemed the entire apartment had several different rooms, using up the large amount of space granted by being the only room on the entire floor of the complex high rise.

Fitted with only two doors—the one they’d entered through and another door on the right that seemed to lead into a bathroom. The room itself was wide.The walls were wood and dark in color. Low, warm colored lights were fixed into the ceiling. Sleek wooden floors fitted with a nice looking rug right in front of the main attraction.

A single bed.

A big bed. King sized. Plush, neatly folded duvets and silk sheets. It was a dark red in color, not too bold or flashy, prominent. It didn’t stand on a classic bed-frame, instead, raised up from the ground with a wooden step that went around it, making the bed seemed fixed into the floor. A dark, leather cushioned headboard sat behind it, tucked beneath heavy pillows.

There was a lounge chair in the opposite corner, a fancy looking recliner. Night stands were nestled on either side of the bed. One more beside the chair.

Paneled sliding doors to the left promised a closet. Hoku was still taking in the entire show of the room because—it was kind of daunting, really. She tried picking out with a more eager eye good angles, the colors contrasted darkly and richly, so she’d have fun with shading and contrasts but—

Intimate. Hoku thought about Sabo’s description. Definitely seems to be the right word.

She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the classic go-to for all their shoots. She kept calling it a room in her head because it’s what it looked like—but Sabo had said it was studio. It was possible they moved it around and changed it to whatever they needed to fit their client’s demands.

Her work station was nestled in the corner of the room. Almost it’s own little world. It was quite a good distance from the door. Sleek desks arranged for maximum workspace, though humbly recluse from everything else in the room. There were folded up light fixtures and equipment Hoku recognized for photoshoots propped up in case she wanted to change anything. Her work space was a very, very nice looking drawing table, fitted with a light and grooves for her materials, a slot for the paper and—

Hoku stood behind the desk, setting her things down. She played with the back of the chair—it was a roomy thing, arm rests. Wheels on the bottom so she could spin and move it around—

“Perfect view,” Hoku realized, staring at the bed from where she’d be sitting. Of everything.

She glanced up to the ceiling, noticing what looked like paneled boards. Light fixtures behind them? Hoku turned her head, noticing the reinforced hook fixed into the center of the bed’s ceiling. They must move things around after all for different shoots—

“Are you all set up?”

Hoku jumped, nearly knocking into the desk and falling over it. Her head snapped over her shoulder and Sabo blinked in surprise right behind her, pressing a few gloved fingers to his lips. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you just—” Hoku shook her head, laughing a bit as she tugged a quick hand through her hair. Sabo’s eyes followed the action briefly. “You’re like a ghost. I didn’t even hear you.”

“Ah,” Sabo’s lips turned upwards in amusement, lowering his hand beneath his chin. “I know what you mean. Ace and Luffy are always so loud, it makes you seem quieter than you are.”

“You look comfy,” Hoku said, eyeing the dark navy robe Sabo had changed into. Kept the gloves on though.

“I’m used to this,” Sabo said with an easy smile.

“Seems like it,” Hoku agreed, taking a seat in the chair. She adjusted it briefly, spinning it around once. Sabo’s brows quirked, looking as though he were trying to hold back a laugh. “Neat studio you guys have set up here. You’ve got a whole thing going, huh?”

Sabo hummed, playing with the back of her chair. “When it became apparent we’d be doing this fairly often, we figured it was wise to make the investment.”

“Private modeling sessions,” Hoku mused, leaning back in the chair. Sabo crossed his arms over the back of the rest, leaning his head onto them as he watched the top of her head. “You know, considering how good looking you guys are, I bet companies would be paying big bucks to have a couple sessions.”

“How much would you pay?” Sabo questioned behind her.

Hoku pursed her lips, pretending to think deeply on the subject. “I doubt I could even afford an hour.”

Hoku laughed, smoothing out her paper and leaning forward toward the desk. She tugged out her pencil case, flipping it open. “My art teacher would kill to have you sit in for a class—”

Her chair shifted. Sabo had pushed it forward a bit. The desk came close to her, not touching, but keeping her nestled tightly between the wood and the chair behind her. Hoku’s hands instantly shot for the edge of the desk, catching herself briefly—

“For however long you’d like, whatever you’d like, a session for you,” Sabo said, his voice was light, breezy. Easy. Not a hint of anything else. There would be no reason for there to be anything else.

“Would be free.”

Sabo’s shadow was light against her desk. Hoku stared at it for a moment, feeling strangely, quietly—was that feeling even really there? Did she really feel that for a second? No, no you didn’t. Why would you feel like that when—

It’s just them.

“So then,” Hoku said, turning her head over her shoulder with a grin. “I could have you two dressed up however and in whatever ridiculous pose I wanted—”

“I do look better in colors that compliment my hair,” Sabo said cheerfully. “And I like—”

“Navy blue,” Hoku jutted a pencil at his robe.

Sabo’s smile was so bright it almost hurt to look at. Something funny twisted in her gut. “Ace will be coming in with our guest in a second, remember everything I told you?”

“Mhm,” Hoku nodded. “You won’t hear a peep out of me. Won’t even be here.”

Sabo fondly ruffled the top of her head, “Good girl.”

Hoku scowled, swatting at his hand. Sabo chuckled, pulling away from her chair while giving it a bit of a spin as he walked from her station toward the bed. Hoku couldn’t help but hope he at least had something on under that robe because—

Luffy, this might be one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done but I swear to god I’m washing it out of my brain when this is all over. Hoku turned her eyes to the paper, already starting to sketch out the design of the room since she’d be aiming for something to take place on the bed. I’m going to do everything in my power not to have to draw your brothers�� dic—

No, don’t even worry about it. Hoku shook her head. No other thoughts. They’re just bodies. You just draw. There’s nothing else involved in it.

Easy.

The door clicked open.

Sabo turned slowly, standing directly before the bed.

Hoku looked up.

She was lovely.

Long, dark hair curled into waves against her back. Her nails were neatly done, manicured and colored like wine to match the tight, form fitting cocktail dress that showed off all her curves in all the right places. Her skin was a light, healthy tan. Her body was nice. Hoku could see what angles she should draw from immediately from how well her legs moved, long and lovely beneath her dress that barely hit her mid-thigh—

Her lashes were long and curled. Her lipstick matched the color of her dress. She looked older—probably somewhere around Law’s age. Ah, but his type is far away from women like this—

She stepped further into the room. Hoku realized she was still wearing her shoes—black heels, strapped up to her ankles. Her head held high. She walked with purpose. Hoku instantly felt a clear wall erected between them—Hoku was Hoku—this lady, this woman, was exactly what girls aspired to be. Beautiful, mature, seductive.

Sabo offered her a warm, polite smile. The woman’s eyes lowered, half-lidded and dark. Hoku watched her throat quiver with a swallow. Her pretty nails tugged at the hem of her dress briefly. Sabo hadn’t even moved.

The air in the studio shifted. It felt heavy.

Hoku held her pencil loose in her grip, uncertain for a moment, waiting.

“You’re late,” Sabo said, politely, “Hotaru-san.”

Hoku only froze for a brief second. That weird flinch you did sometimes when you thought someone was about to say your own name.

Hotaru’s lips pursed. Full. She bit her lower lip, eyelids fluttering and then her gaze turned quickly to Hoku.

Hoku flinched, gripping her pencil. Should she introduce herself? Thank her? Greet her? Her eyes darted to Sabo in a moment of panic, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Hotaru.

“You don’t have to speak to her. Or interact with the client. Just do what you need to do.”

Hotaru’s face shifted. Clearly unhappy. A pout followed on her lips and Sabo looked amused as she strode further into the room. Heels clicking against the wood. Hoku waited with her pencil ready, a little nervous until she spotted Ace stepping into the room right after her, still in his clothes from earlier.

The door closed behind him with an audible click. His fingers smoothly twisted a lock into place.

Hotaru shuddered at the sound, breathing a little heavier.

Hoku swallowed. She hovered over her paper. Ace’s dark eyes caught hers from her station and he offered her a small smile, throwing her a wink.

Her shoulders slumped in relief. Hoku forced herself to relax. That’s right. They said it was like acting—they’re just models. You’re just drawing. Don’t worry about anything else. It’s just a job.

What are you getting so nervous for?

“You didn’t say she was going to be a girl,” Hotaru said finally. Her voice was high, her lips pursed in annoyance. Hoku’s eyes went round in worry. Sabo tipped his head to the side and she strode forward toward him, hands on her hips. “I told you how I—”

“You didn’t even take your shoes off,” Sabo said. Hotaru stopped completely in her tracks. His voice was even. Calm.

It could be heard.

“She was that eager,” Ace said behind them, walking forward with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Hotaru’s face flushed dark in embarrassment, mouth opening and closing. “Came rushing right into the apartment.”

Ace stopped right behind her. He kept his hands to himself. “Why don’t you tell Sabo what you asked me to do when you came in, hmm? How I took off your jacket. Where you wanted to do it because you couldn’t wait.��

Sabo took a seat onto the edge of the bed. It’s risen level still left him lowered, but it didn’t feel that way at all—

A throne.

Hoku’s fingers twitched. This is a good shot—should I draw this? Her eyes flickered to her paper, ignoring the sweat that had gathered at the back of her neck. The nervousness that tugged at her fingers despite how steady she held her pencil.

It’s like acting. It’s a roleplay. They just need to get in character. The client must want something like this—

Hoku swallowed.

How… How far is this going to—

Sabo set his gloved hands on either side of him, leaning back onto his hands as he watched Hotaru in silence.

Hotaru bit her lower lip. Her cheeks were flushed a dark, cherry red. She turned her head to Ace and then to Sabo and she quickly spat out, “Fine—Fine, I don’t care. I just—Sabo, please—”

“Take your shoes off.”

Hotaru flinched, looking desperate. Ace didn’t move an inch, face set into an easy, uninterested look. Sabo didn’t seem interested in repeating himself a second time. Hotaru floundered for words.

Sabo smoothly slid out a thin, rectangular shaped box from the pocket of his robe. Hotaru shuddered, eyes growing round and fixed entirely on that little box.

Sabo set it calmly at his side, moving his hand from it.

Hotaru bent down. Her fingers quickly worked at her heels, tugging desperately at the straps and chucking her heels into another direction of the room. Ace looked amused behind her and Hoku’s eyes followed the heels, sketching them into the corner of the image. Giving herself something to do.

“You just have to watch.” She paused at the memory of Sabo’s words. “Closely. Pick which scene you think will be the best.”

Hoku’s brows furrowed and she hesitantly looked back up.

“There,” Hotaru said. She took a few steps and then she hit the floor on her hands and knees. Hoku stared with wide eyes. The woman crawled forward, her tight dress hiking up higher on her thighs with each movement. “I did what you asked, Sabo.”

Sabo remained silent, perched on the bed in front of her. Hotaru crawled up onto her knees in front of him and Hoku darted back to the paper. This isn’t a bad shot. Shows power and an attempt to overthrow. But Ace isn’t doing much in it—

“Look at you,” Hoku looked up at Sabo’s clear, resounding voice. It was directive. Her eyes dropped to Hotaru who bit her lower lip, eyes needy as she gazed at Sabo.

He kept his hands at his sides. Those blonde locks fell a bit into his eyes, framing that sculpted angle of his jaw.

He looked completely and utterly—

In control.

Hoku held her pencil tight, chanting a mantra in her head.

No one is even naked yet. She reminded herself. You’ve drawn worse before. This is some… powerplay or something. It’s an act. Calm down. Why are you—

“All worked up?” Sabo questioned lowly.

Hoku flinched for a second before she relaxed. He’s not talking to me. I don’t exist right now.

He raised a hand. Hotaru’s eyes followed every movement eagerly. Gloved fingers curved beneath her chin, raising her head up to look at him. “You normally put up such a fight. I could touch you and you’ll just roll over, won’t you?”

Hotaru’s eyes flashed. Her cheeks flushed but her hands rushed forward and Sabo’s eyes darkened. She fumbled for the bind holding Sabo’s robe together, pushing forward on her knees toward him. Her breasts pushed up against his legs.

Sabo simply watched in silence, as though he were watching a child try something in vain. A hint of amusement in his gaze. It was—

Condescending.

“Aren’t you the same though?” Hotaru said hurriedly. She tugged Sabo’s rope free and she pushed aside the folds of his robe. “You’re acting all calm and collected—but, but you want it too, don’t you? Look at you!”

Sabo’s chest opened up. Taut muscles. A defined ridge. Hoku’s eyes couldn’t help but move to the inch of his side that was exposed. His scar peeked through. Her heart clenched for a second at the memory of how he got the horrible burn—

His muscled abdomen dipped. Hotaru was almost panting at this point, eyes desperate as she fumbled around, licking her lips and the folds of his robe moved apart and—

Hoku’s eyes dropped down and she balked.

She’d drawn people nude dozens of times now. She knew what belonged where. She wasn’t—she wasn’t a virgin. She wasn’t bumbling and stuttering and a blushing idiot when she saw these things—usually when the pencil was in her hand and the paper beneath her—her mind even became almost clinical. It was another limb. Another part to draw—

Memories rushed forward. Her throat went dry. Hoku’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and her eyes instantly trained themselves hard on her paper, refusing to budge.

But this was—but he was—that—

Her gut twisted sharply, unsettled. Hoku’s throat went dry. She kept her eyes on the paper, on the paper—

“You won’t get freaked out or anything right?” Hoku flinched. But this is different. This feels—

Wrong. Weird. Private. Intimate. Imposing. Intruding.

She… She knew Ace and Sabo. She’d played with them as kids. Had funny, weird, awkward moments when they were teenagers—seen them with missing teeth and dumb grins—

But this is different.

“See?” Ace’s smooth voice, teasing, flooded the room. “She can’t even handle it.”

Hoku’s head snapped up instantly. Her cheeks hot but—No, no, that’s not it. I’m sorry, I’m not freaking out—

Hoku froze. Ace’s eyes were on Hotaru, a smirk on his lips. Sabo looked vaguely amused, leaning back on his hands as Hotaru panted on her knees in front of him, hands on his thighs and—

It’s just a drawing. Hoku said. She shut her mind down. Shut everything else out. You took this job. It’s not weird. It’s human. It’s intimate. It’s a scene. It’s like a play. Just draw the scene. Just draw. She gathered her footing back beneath her.

Hoku turned her eyes fully onto the scene unfolding in front of her.

Sabo’s length stood out from the folds of his robe. Hard. Erect. Revealing the muscled, toned top of his thighs. Hoku refused to study it in any more detail, keeping her eyes trained on Hotaru’s face. Hotaru shuffled forward, pressing herself flush between his legs. Sabo’s expression didn’t even flinch or shift. Neutral.

Professional.

There. It’s just another… Hoku’s neck felt hot. She felt a little queasy. Don’t think about whose that is. It’s just another body part.

“See?” Hotaru said breathily, lashes fluttering. “Look at you, baby. Look at how hard you are for me. This did something for you too, didn’t it? You liked this.”

Sabo watched her. Expression void. His eyes were dark and Hotaru pressed a kiss to his thigh. “Normally I have to work so… so hard to get you like this for me… I knew I did something for you. Aren’t I a good girl?”

Hoku’s gut twisted.

Sabo’s erection was hard. Swollen at the tip. Ramrod straight. Hotaru pressed another kiss to his inner thigh, as though seeking permission. Sabo didn’t even flinch despite the physical reaction, expression calm and collected. His lids were lowered, eyes dark and unreadable from where she was.

“You’re so big,” Hotaru said. Hoku’s ears went hot. Please stop. Oh my god. “So thick. You’re perfect, Sabo. I want it so bad. Please, let me make you feel good—”

Her hands inched up his thighs. Sabo watched in almost cold silence.

“What did it?” Hotaru panted. “The dress, baby? The shoes? The hair? I tried to do everything you told me to—was I too bad? What’s getting you off this time? What’s turning you on that I didn’t do before—”

Ace’s hand shot out like a snake. He fisted a handful of those thick, curly locks, tugging back sharply.

Hotaru yelped. Hoku jumped, almost hitting her knees into her desk. Her heart raced in her chest.

“Look at you,” Ace chuckled, dark, throaty. Hotaru moaned, hands flying up to where Ace held her by her hair. “Who said you could run that filthy mouth of yours? You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Crawling all over him like that—you’re dying for it.”

“Please!” Hotaru pleaded. Her cheeks were hot. She tried to turn around to Ace, hands flying to the button on his jeans. “Please! Touch me—anything—please! I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want—”

Ace let her get far enough to unbutton them. She unzipped his pants, trying to pull him free from his confines.

Her work stationed seemed miles away and still not far enough. The room was hot—the air was heavy.

Should I be doing this?

Her eyes dropped to her paper.

“We really needed the help for this job.”

Job. It’s just a job. It’s an act. Job. Job. Job—

“Look at me.” Hoku’s pencil almost slipped against the papers. Sabo’s voice left no room for disagreement and she glanced up.

He’d thankfully readjusted the folds of his robe. Leaning forward with one elbow on his knee. His gloved hand covered the lower half of his mouth, holding it there as he watched Hotaru in heavy, shuddering silence.

Hotaru watched him, chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Are you in any place,” Sabo said softly. “To be making demands?”

Hotaru shuddered.

“We’re all here to do this for you,” Sabo said. “And you go and run your mouth like that… is that anyway to repay us?”

Hotaru shook her head desperately, eyes wet. Her cheeks were such a dark red, panting heavily.

Sabo had complete hold over her.

Absolute control.

Sabo reached over for the little box. His thumb hit a button softly.

The reaction was instant.

Hotaru tossed her head back, writhing with her hair still in Ace’s loose grip. Her legs shuddered, jerking this way and that. Hotaru moaned, back arching. She bucked into the air once, twice. Ace and Sabo watched in silence as the low hum filled the room.

Hoku pressed a hand to her mouth. Her eyes were wide at her paper. Her face flushed red in embarrassment and she folded in on herself. That’s—That wa—Earlier—

Suck it up, you wimp. It’s just a—

Sabo hit a second button.

“Oh, god!” Hotaru cried. She panted, chest rising and falling and her entire body twisted about, lashing this way and that as she tried to find some kind of purchase, any kind of relief for the pleasure coursing through her body from the little device. “Please—oh, please! Let me come, Sabo. Please, please—”

Hoku filled her head with any other thought. It’s just—this is just porn! This is literally just porn—Usopp! Usopp and—that time you walked on Usopp in the shower—

“You think she deserves it?” Sabo questioned curiously. Looking at Ace over the top of his fingers.

Hotaru’s pitiful moans filled the entire room. Ace gave her head a little pat, watching her squirm. “Why not?”

“Please!” Hotaru gasped, back arching sharply. Hoku flinched. “Sabo! Ace! Please! I’m so close—”

Sabo hit the controller. Hotaru moaned. Her feet skidded across the floor, the humming cutting out completely. She whimpered, hips bucking upwards uselessly as the convulsions ceased and Sabo leaned back onto his hands.

“Take it out.”

Hotaru’s eyes snapped open wide. Hoku choked. Isn’t that a bit harsh—

“Some people are into that.”

Hotaru’s lips trembled. She looked up at Ace pleadingly, but he merely carded his fingers through her hair, offering her a low smile. His canines peeked through. Hotaru whimpered, spreading her legs open as she lowered her hand down to her tight dress. Sabo watched her, hand resting over the lower half of his face, eyes shaded darkly.

Hotaru’s fingers disappeared beneath her dress. She tossed her head back onto Ace’s thigh with a moan, spreading her legs apart. Her eyes kept themselves on Sabo, seeming to hope it’d get him moving.

Sabo remained motionless.

Hotaru let out a little whine. Her fingers tugged and then a ribbon and a thin cord came out, followed by the egg shaped vibrator—

Hoku focused on her paper. She had the entire room sketched out in vivid detail. Shaded in and everything. She had enveloped forms but no real figures. No pose—

“Good girl,” Sabo praised. Hotaru shuddered, watching him hopefully. “Now on your feet.”

Hotaru’s lips parted in desperate protest. Sabo’s face was cold. Unrelenting. Her mouth fluttered shut and she whimpered, slowly gathering herself on wobbly knees and walking toward him like a newborn fawn.

Ace followed behind her, stopping at her back. His fingers dipped into his back pocket, pulling out a foil package. He handed it to Hotaru over her shoulder, slipping it into her hand.

The proud, confident woman that had walked into the room just moments ago was nothing like what she had been. Her knees quivered. Her hair was disheveled. Her lips wet and red from all her biting and Hoku could see the slick shine to the inside of her thighs where her dress had hiked up almost completely and revealed she wasn’t even wearing anything beneath.

She was at their mercy.

Hoku’s eyes flickered to the door and back to her drawing. The events transpiring were leading to one finale. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be seeing this—

“It’s just a simulation of sorts.”

Too raw. Too vivid—

“Sabo—”

“Alright,” Sabo said. Hotaru’s eyes brightened, a kind of desperate Hoku had never seen on anyone before. Not in a situation like this. So… pitiful? “If you want it, then you do the work.”

Hotaru’s lips quivered. She looked about to protest for a moment and Ace stepped closer, hands coming around her sides and dipping low where Hoku couldn’t see.

Hotaru jerked. She moaned, nodding her head rapidly. She struggled with the condom for a second, ripping it open and then she quickly stepped between Sabo’s legs. He shifted further onto the bed, the first move he’d made in what felt like ages. Hotaru followed after, unrolling the condom. She placed it between her lips and her head ducked down.

Hoku turned back to the paper, starting to sketch out the forms onto the bed. There. That’s it. You don’t have to watch the specifics—get the feeling of it.

Hotaru’s lips fell over Sabo’s heavy tip. She licked a long stripe up the side of his length, following a heavy vein and finally moving the condom back between her lips. She took his head into her mouth, moaning just at the fact that she was finally, finally getting closer to what she wanted. Sabo looked almost amused above her, robe pooling down around his elbows as he leaned back and let her work, not moving a finger.

Hoku’s eyes landed on the vivid scar against his left side. The way it carved up his ribcage to his shoulder. She drew that part carefully, softly, on the form that was starting to give more shape to Sabo. She thought about the scar. Focused on that.

Hotaru moaned around him. Wriggling her hips impatiently. Ace knelt on the edge of the bed. He swiftly pulled his shirt off. Muscles rippled across broad shoulders, traveling down to almost slender hips.

His hand reached down, tugging his pants down lower on his hips. He pulled his cock free from its confines, hard. Precum gathered at his tip. Heavy, hot in his hands. His finger dragged across the slit, moving around the heavy head. His slickened hand dropped down, starting from the base and slowly working his way up.

Ace’s head tipped back, barely breaking a sweat. His eyes seemed focused on something else, working almost lazily at his own. Sabo watched Hotaru continue for a second longer, the condom fully sheathed over his length as she pressed kisses to the tip and bent lower—

“That’s enough,” Sabo said. “Go on.”

Hotaru eagerly clambered forward. She panted, reaching up and struggling to unzip the top of her dress. Ace seemed to take pity on her for a second, tugging it down swiftly and she tugged it low, letting her heavy breasts free as she groped desperately at herself. Hotaru twisted one of her nipples, rolling her breast and gazing heatedly at Sabo.

“Am I doing it right?” Hotaru begged. “You like this, right, Sabo? Tell me, please.”

Sabo leaned back on his elbows, calm and collected.

Hotaru groaned in desperation. She readied herself, lining up with his tip and she shot him another heated look, lips quivering, waiting.

Sabo simply blinked, watching in silence.

Hotaru turned, cheeks flushed. Hair clung to her cheeks, to her lips as she let her back face Sabo and she faced Ace. His hooded eyes watched her, inclining his head as he worked at his cock and Hotaru whimpered.

Hoku didn’t watch. Couldn’t watch. Her ears burned.

Hotaru’s blissful, desperate moan flooded the entire room like a siren as she sank low onto Sabo’s length. She took him in entirely, taking him all the way to the hilt as she slotted her hips over his and braced herself on his thighs.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Hotaru repeated. She lifted herself up and slid back with a lewd slick. Hoku winced. “Yes. Yes. Finally—Sabo! Sabo, you feel so good. Baby, you’re so big—so big, so hard, so good. Come on, help me—ah. Sabo, help me—”

Hoku realized just how much a prude she must be after all. Even—even during sex, she’d never been able to utter anything like that-—

Sabo shut his eyes for a second. He tipped his head back, golden strands shifting around his chin. The most of a reaction Hoku had seen so far. She focused on that, ignoring what was transpiring in front of her and how—

Intimate this is—

She remembered every sensual thing she’d ever drawn. She’d drawn sex before—intimate depictions of models—it’s just that. It’s just people.

But no matter how hard she tried—isn’t this too much? She’d never done anything like this before. Panic seized her. She’d never witness something so personal like this where it was happening before her and making her feel so, so—

Uncomfortable.

Hoku froze.

“If you ever feel uncomfortable—”

“If it’s ever too much—”

“Can’t handle it?”

She swallowed. Her throat went dry. Hoku’s eyes hardened and she shoved her pencil to the paper. No. No it’s not. It’s not too much. I’m not uncomfortable. You can do this, Hoku. You have to. So what if it’s new—it’s just different. You wanted to change and try new things—

“Why don’t you put that mouth to use?” Ace said huskily.

Hotaru’s eyes fluttered open and she crawled forward eagerly. Ace was on his knees, hand slipping from his cock and sliding back behind Hotaru’s head. She lifted her hips desperately, bringing them back down onto Sabo’s over and over again, chasing the feeling each time.

The sound of skin on skin. The air heavy.

Hotaru opened her mouth obediently. Ace’s grip tightened on the back of her head and he pushed forward past her lips. His head tipped back, eyes shutting at the feeling before he rolled his hips back and thrusted forward, fucking himself with her mouth.

Hoku couldn’t help the wince. I don’t think I could ever—

Hotaru moaned. Pleasure lined every crease of her face. She worked desperately with her mouth, letting Ace fuck himself as he liked while she moved, Sabo not lifting a finger as she rode herself on him as fast as she could. It was rough, it was desperate and almost pitiful and yet she looked so pleasured—

Hoku’s fingers twitched. I could draw that. Ace was in the picture now. It was obvious the client wanted something like this depicted—it’s just like people who write harlequin novels or direct porn. Just draw it.

You’re not involved.

The single sentence seemed to free Hoku from every other thought. That’s right, you’re not involved. She wasn’t part of the picture. She was safe here behind her station. Look at it from perspective. She had no reason to feel anything else but—

Professional.

Hoku pressed her pencil to her paper, ready, at ease. The faces started to blur and sharpen. She saw bodies. Movement. A scene unfolding.

That’s all it was.

Hoku’s pencil started to move rapidly. She watched the scene less and less, glancing up and down back to it. She had her mold now. She didn’t need to think about anything else. Her mind focused on the drawing and nothing else. The sounds fell deaf around her ears, the actions—

Hoku drew.

Dark eyes watched her from beneath blonde waves. His gaze was heavy, dark. Sabo’s lips twitched and he let out a small sigh through his nose, leaning back onto his elbows as he watched Hotaru get off, riding him with reckless abandon while she took Ace in all the way to the back of her throat, moaning each time.

The perfect picture of nothing but carnal desire. Lewd. Filthy. Raw. The vivid fantasy of any man’s dreams.

Sabo’s eyes narrowed. His lids lowered. Not even watching the moving body riding him like her life depended on it. His gaze remained trained on the only figure out of his reach.

For now.

Ace’s eyes flickered up at the soft sound. His fingers were threaded through Hotaru’s hair, meeting his brother’s gaze over the top of her head.

Ace glanced to the side, watching the way Hoku worked, glancing to them with unfocused eyes and back to her work from beneath his hair. She was seeing them but not seeing them. Watching but not watching. Zoned out as she drew.

Disconnected.

His brows creased slightly. Ace’s grip on the back of Hotaru’s head tightened. He thrust forward with a little more force and she moaned. Loud. Shameless. She worked herself desperately, chasing her high as she came down over and over again on Sabo’s length, grinding her hips, twisting this way and that.

Hoku felt the drawing start to come together. She worked on the details around Hotaru’s face, shading in softer areas, trying to capture the look. Her body curved, meeting both Ace and Sabo so she didn’t worry about anything else. Hotaru was the most exposed.

Ace watched Hoku. His fingers threaded harder. Hotaru moaned desperately around him. His lids lowered. He watched her eyes flicker to and fro, watched her mouth move soundlessly, followed her lips, the way her tongue peeked out as she worked harder at something on the paper—

Ace shut his eyes. He grit his teeth. Heat pooled, fast and molten in his stomach. Hotaru worked faster, bobbing her head up and down while she sloppily lifted her hips to come crashing back down.

Hotaru popped off suddenly, lips bruised and swollen. She panted out desperately with a keen, “Come for me, Ace—”

Sabo pulled her down hard onto his length, driving himself deep into her. Hotaru’s voice cut off with a high, stuttering moan. Her eyes went wide, face flushing with pleasure and Ace grabbed the back of her head, muffling her moans as he thrusted back into her mouth.

Ace’s breathing quickened. His eyes darted back to the desk. More labored. Sabo’s eyes flickered to him. Ace bowed his head, thrusting faster and harder into Hotaru’s mouth without mercy. Tears peeked out from the corners of her eyes, moans punched out with every shift of his hips.

Hoku adjusted his expression based on the sound. Already far, far away from what was unfolding in front of her. Focused on the drawing. The room slipped back into a studio. The bed another prop. The people forms to draw.

Sabo sat up. Hotaru moaned around Ace’s cock at the shift, moving her hips erratically to chase the deeper feeling he’d done just seconds ago, trying desperately to imitate the pleasure he could give her—find it for herself—

Useless.

Sabo’s gloved fingers slid around her waist. His fingers found the swollen nub, working it fast and quickly between his fingers. Hotaru’s eyes went wide and she keened, swallowing around Ace’s thick cock as he fucked her mouth and tears and drool dripped down her chin—

Hoku barely blinked, figuring everything was starting to come down. The room would slip from its high. Her hand worked faster at the drawing. Almost there. Finish up.

You can do this.

Hotaru’s entire body shuddered. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Sabo’s textured fingers rolled a few more times expertly over her clit, stroking it as her hips jerked. She clenched hard around him, trying to tug him over the edge with her. Not knowing how far back at the starting line he still was.

Sabo’s eyes were hooded. He let her ride it out with another sloppy jerk of her hips and then gently, sweetly, patiently guided her twitching hips forward and off. His cock slipped out, still fully erect. It pulsed, heavy and hard. He felt each hot throb beneath the slickened condom and he sat up further as Hotaru fell forward toward Ace.

Hotaru choked. The muted sound muffled as Ace grabbed the back of her head and held her there. He let out a low, ragged breath, barely a groan. He shut his eyes tight, bowing his head low as he came.

Hot spurts filled her mouth and Hotaru’s throat bobbed rapidly, working to swallow it all as she shut her eyes tight. Her hips twitched. On her hands and knees as the bitter taste flooded her mouth.

Hoku erased a part of Sabo’s expression. It didn’t quite fit. She reworked at his eyes, focusing on finishing.

Ace’s fingers unthreaded her hair. He sat back on his heels with a breathy exhale.

Hotaru’s lips slid off him with a wet pop. She breathed, ragged. Her face was flushed a dark red with pleasure. Sweat rolled down her neck, past the swell of her breasts. Her hair disheveled, clinging this way and that. Dress creased. Her entire body shook with effort. A bit of thick white trailed down the corner of her mouth.

Hotaru weakly looked up, eyes wet and hazy. She started to turn over her shoulder. “Sa… Sabo… let me… help you—”

Ace’s large hand slid over her eyes. Hotaru shuddered, letting herself be pulled back into his lap and flush against him. Ace’s free hand snaked around her hip, slowly running a teasing trail right back down to her throbbing, wet heat.

Hotaru sucked in a sharp breath. She moaned loudly, tossing her head back. Eyes covered by Ace’s hand. “Ah, baby—again?”

Sabo leaned back against the cushioned headboard. His fingers nimbly tugged off the slickened condom, tossing it to the side of the bed. He pulled his glove off with his teeth. His hand tugged a small bottle off the nightstand with familiar ease, popping the cap and lathering up his fingers.

The blonde exhaled a long, heavy sound. Sabo relaxed back, slowly wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock. It pulsed beneath his slick fingers, throbbing.

Hoku glanced to his expression for a second and burrowed down into the desk, not even watching any further. It sounded about done—I’m almost done here too.

You can do this.

Ace slid two fingers with ease into Hotaru. She moaned, writhing in his lap, legs opening shamelessly despite the stimulation. Ace kept his hand over her eyes, nudging her legs open a little further as Sabo slowly started to stroke himself, watching.

“Want to help him get off?” Ace whispered by her ear. He nipped at her neck and Hotaru nodded desperately as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, working her to a second high. “Repeat what I tell you to say like a good girl.”

Sabo’s fingers slid from the base to the head, shifting. He ran a thumb over his slit, eyes following the soft top of white hair flickering in and out of his view. Pinning her in place.

“Sabo,” Hotaru said, listening to Ace’s heatedly whispered words. She gasped, breathy. “Sabo, I missed you so much.”

Sabo let out a heavier exhale. His teeth worked at his bottom lip. His hand tightened around his cock.

“I’m sorry I was gone for so—ah—so long,” Hotaru panted. “I’m sorry—” Ace shoved his fingers harder into her, hitting home. “I’m sorry! I won’t—Ace! I won’t… I won’t leave again!”

Sabo groaned. Hoku worked faster. His most… The most reaction from him this entire time.

She blocked everything out. No other sound slipped past. Completely in her own world.

Deaf.

His cock throbbed harder. Sabo shut his eyes, letting his head roll back as he worked faster, harder, pumping himself over and over again. His lips moved. His teeth ground together.

Ace whispered into her ear, thrusting his fingers up.

“Ah! A-Ah… Please,” Hotaru repeated. “Please… I wan… I wanna feel you. Missed you. I-ah-I’ll be good… so… so… teach me!”

Sabo’s breath quickened. His hand worked faster and faster. He screwed his eyes shut tight, muscles growing taut. Sweat rolled down the side of his chin, past his neck.

“I’ll do whatever you say,” Hotaru babbled. “I won’t ever leave again—oh, god, please—”

Ace shoved his fingers, hitting Hotaru’s spot repeatedly and she cried out the heated words whispered into her ear—

“I’m yours, Sabs!”

Sabo stiffened. His back arched. He tossed his head back against the headboard and shuddered, a low, sweet groan escaping his lips.

Hot spurts of come splattered onto Hotaru’s thighs. Painting them white. She panted, chest rising and falling rapidly as she sank back into Ace’s grip. Ace casually slipped his fingers out of her, wiping them off on the bed sheets as he pulled his hand off her eyes.

Sabo struggled to catch his breath for a second. He reached up with his other hand, pushing his hair back from his face. It slicked over the top of his head, remaining there. He inhaled and exhaled slowly before his eyes fluttered open, glancing to Ace as he watched his brother set Hotaru down on her side, a panting, blissed out mess.

Their gazes met. Ace and Sabo watched each other for a moment before their gazes swung to the side of the room.

Hoku stopped. She stared at the drawing that had finally come to life in front of her. Her eyes went round in disbelief, almost in awe.

For a moment—everything else fell away.

The studio, the people—she’d done it. You did it! Hoku, you did it! You finally made something new—

You handled it.

Pride flooded her chest, desperate and unbidden. The small achievement. This strange, harrowing finish line in the midst of something she didn’t realize she’d started—but you did it. See? You just needed to tune everything else out—

You’re moving.

Ace brought one leg up, resting an arm on his knee. Sabo tipped his head to the side, his hand covering the lower half of his face, hiding his mouth and the way his lips were turning—

Hoku touched the drawing. You did your job. You did it. You’re moving again.

The circumstances wild, crazed. She couldn’t think about anything else except that it finally felt like she was moving again and out of this rut.

Two pairs of eyes, hooded and smoldering stared back at her from the drawing, mimicking the pair watching her just over the top of her desk. Across the room.

The path beneath her feet started to shift. Hoku happily ran forward, eager to be moving.

She didn’t notice the fences sliding up on either side of her.

Didn’t notice the signs pointing where to go.

Didn’t know where she was going. Just happy to be going. Happy to have a destination again and not knowing—

There was no escape.

#Memos #Hoku #Memos AU #Portgas D. Ace x oc #ace/oc #Sabo #Portgas D. Ace #Sabo/Oc #Dark!Ace #Dark!Sabo #Ace/Oc/Sabo #trafalgar law #eustass captain kid #monkey d. luffy #tumblr messed with my italics srry

100 notes · View notes

lokislytherin · 5 years ago

Text

save me pt.1// namjin

pairings: kim namjoon x kim seokjin

summary: detective kim seokjin has always worked alone, but when infamous gang leader rap monster reaches out for his help, they'll have to work together to solve a series of crimes which the latter has been framed for. will they get along, or will it end in disaster?

in other words, a namjin crack fic in which infamous gang leader rap monster has been framed for murder, and kim seokjin is quite possibly the greatest (and most handsome) consulting detective alive.

word count: 12k

a/n: i have no other words for this, except i hope you enjoy! (the whole thing can be found here on my ao3 acc helaravenclaw, i’ve got the first chapter here if you’re interested!)

kim seokjin was not a morning person.

he never worked well during early mornings, but he was a consulting detective - not unlike the great sherlock holmes - so being called in by the seoul police force before the very ass-crack of dawn was technically nobody's fault but his own. if he didn't like his job so much, he would've quit a long time ago.

when he arrived at the police station, the sun had only just begun to rise. seokjin yawned loudly, glaring around and ready to give whoever called him over a piece of his mind. and then he caught sight of the most peculiar thing he'd seen since he'd started working with the police force - it was a gang leader standing alongside the police officers.

he quickly gave the man a once over - yup, he was definitely a gang leader. seokjin could tell by the dark jacket he wore, the dark sunglasses that perched on his nose, the dark mask that covered half his face and the cap that covered the other half. well, by stereotype, he'd either be a criminal or a celebrity, but the wary stares the other officers shot him gave it all away; for why would they look at a celebrity like that? why would they put a celebrity in cuffs?

the detective squinted, looking closer. he balked. the man standing among the justice-seeking federal officers wasn't just any gang leader - it was rap monster.

rap monster, or rm, as he preferred to be called, was the ruthlessly intelligent leader of bangtan, the largest gang in seoul. he was the brains of the operation, keeping them out of sight and literally bulletproof, like their name. seokjin wasn't sure whether to love the man or hate him - he brought down crime levels by eliminating other more violent gangs and dangerous criminals, but his methods of doing so were not always legal.

how he always managed to evade being arrested was a mystery to the detective.

"what is he doing here?" seokjin demanded. there was something about the man that seokjin couldn't stand - was the fact that he wore all black with no color at all?

alright, maybe seokjin was a little petty.

"i've been framed," rm told him politely, his deep voice muffled by the mask. "trust me, i like being here just as much as you do."

the detective was more than a little miffed at how easy it was for rm to read his face. he ground his teeth, unable to help but feel a little jealous. good mind and good manners? if rm was good looking too, seokjin would have a rival! but he had to admit, this case piqued his interest. who would frame rm for a crime, and why? "for what?"

"murder," he said ominously. underneath all the accessories he wore to conceal his features, seokjin could feel rm making a face. "i mean, really? i may be a criminal, but i'm a good guy. i'm not a killer. even if i did have to kill someone, not that i would, of course, i'd make it less..." he waved his arms around, struggling to find a good word for it. "flashy."

"which case?" seokjin asked, now genuinely curious. if it was flashy, it was bound to be interesting.

"the lee seunghyun one that i called you about," a voice replied airily as a man dumped a file into seokjin's waiting hands. the detective flipped through the pages, wrinkling his nose a little at the far-too-neat handwriting. "obviously, someone doesn't like him very much."

"yes, i can see that, officer park," seokjin answered coolly, slamming the file shut. park jimin was one of his closest friends in the police force and he really didn't mean to be rude, but it was early and he was cranky. "he was poisoned, but i can't tell what type just by the photo. i need to go there in person."

jimin nodded quickly. "we've got basically nothing so far. the coroner didn't give us anything useful, and the only lead we've got was an anonymous caller saying rm committed the crime. it's agent park now, by the way. i've been promoted," he beamed.

seokjin elected to ignore that last comment. "did you track it?"

jimin nodded again. "it was a burner."

"seunghyun kinda deserved it, though," the mob boss blurted, "he may have been a rich and influential man, but that doesn't change the fact that he was a lying bag of dicks!"

jimin raised an eyebrow at rm's choice of language. "do you realize how suspicious you sound?"

seokjin sighed. "did you interrogate him or not?"

"yes, he did. i wasn't even aware of the murder until i got called in!" rm burst out. "i was at my aunt's restaurant! her kimchi is great, by the way, go and check out her restaurant some time. she makes the best kimchi in town," he bragged.

"his alibi's rock solid. we checked out the aunt, and her kimchi is indeed excellent." jimin scowled. "now i'm craving kimchi again."

seokjin face-palmed. "agent park, stop going off topic. i love food as much as any other guy, but now is not the time for kimchi."

jimin cleared his throat, the tips of his ears red. "right."

"you need to stop picking fights with the suspects," the detective told his friend with a warning glance. he turned to the gangster, taking off his sunglasses and cap and stuffing them inside his bag. "uncuff him. he's coming with me."

rm spluttered. "what? hey! my hat!

seokjin squinted at the taller man, trying hard to hide his internal 'oh sh*t, he's cuter than i expected' moment. it seemed like he did have a rival now. "for a man of supposed iq of 148, you're not very bright," he said, trying to redeem himself in his own mind.

rm could only glare balefully, unable to move his hands from their position behind his back. "my iq is 148, thank you very much!"

jimin pulled seokjin aside. "hyung, are you really sure about this?" the shorter agent hissed. "he's a suspect and a dangerous criminal. what if-"

"have a little faith in him," seokjin murmured, glancing at the gang leader, who was fidgeting nervously under the wary glares of the officers. "i have a feeling he's innocent. besides, he could help me solve the case," the detective admitted grudgingly, "two brains are better than one."

jimin still looked suspicious, but he brought out the key to the handcuffs, dropping them into seokjin's waiting hands. "i'll trust your judgement on this one."

seokjin patted the shorter man's shoulder. "thanks, jiminie."

"get going, rap monster, we've got a crime to solve," the detective called over his shoulder, sweeping off in his long trench coat. "don't worry, people are less likely to suspect you without your sunglasses and your hat."

"please don't call me rap monster."

however, his complaints went ignored as seokjin turned to the shorter police agent. "tell supervisor bang that i'll be gone for the rest of the day, and that i've taken rm with me."

seokjin had his reasons for bringing rm, of course. the man was a living enigma, and for the mystery-loving detective, how better to figure out the other man's intriguing personality than to spend some time with him?

seokjin beckoned rm along. "come on now, sidekick, i haven't got all day."

rm grumbled something about being demoted from the boss of bangtan to a lowly sidekick, but shut up quickly and started trotting obediently after the detective shot him a glare and told him that he should be grateful for seokjin's help.

seokjin did feel a little bad for leaving jimin, poor lonely jimin, standing and muttering in dissatisfaction behind them.

"so, why me?" rm asked as he caught up to seokjin's quick pace with relative ease. he was a few centimeters taller than the detective, but his aura almost made him seem bigger than he really was. "why not agent park? shouldn't he be more experienced with these kinds of things?"

"you were the one who was framed for seunghyun's murder," seokjin stated simply. "that means whoever killed him also has a grudge against you, so if i bring you along, seeing me and you together would spook them, which would make it easier for me to find them. also, agent park is short and if i take him it will take ages to get to the scene."

"we could just drive, you know." rm suggested.

seokjin smiled thinly. "i prefer to walk." he'd been orphaned when both his parents were killed in a car crash, and he'd been terrified of cars ever since. running away from foster care and living on the streets had toughened him up, but cars were still a big no. not that he'd tell rm, of course. "besides, we're almost there!"

the detective stopped suddenly, yelping when rm tripped in surprise and almost knocked them both to the floor. the detective scowled after taking a good long look at the gang leader. "okay, we gotta fix you up. this won't do."

seokjin took off rm's cap and mask, stuffing it in the other man's hands. he ruffled the other man's hair, and rm made a small surprised noise at the intimacy. he flinched as seokjin slapped a badge onto his black hoodie. "what the hell?"

seokjin gave rm a careful examination fro head to toe, from his artistically tousled hair to his dirty grey sneakers. "i'm giving you immunity. nobody will recognize you as rm now. even if they do, you'll be fine, because you're my official sidekick." seokjin smiled triumphantly, tweaking the badge to make it perfect. "now we're good to go."

in the detective's peripheral vision, he saw the gangster look down and sigh loudly - true to seokjin's word, 'detective kim's sidekick' was printed in bold on the shiny pink pin stuck onto his black jacket. "why pink?"

"it's my lucky color. if you judge me, i'll make sure you never get out of jail," seokjin threatened. once, jimin teased seokjin about his love for pink, claiming it was a 'girly color'. seokjin had proceeded to throw a princess peach figurine at him and refused to help him on any cases for a month. jimin never made fun of him again.

"so, do you have a name?" seokjin asked finally. he felt a little foolish for asking, but he needed an answer, and an answer he would get. "i can't keep having this internal rm or rap monster debate with myself. you and your gang are practically ghosts - there's nothing on you guys, no names, no numbers, no google search results. i only know that you're the leader, and your closest circle consists of your right hand man suga, an arms dealer called v, and a hacker who calls himself seagull. i'm not too sure what suga does, actually."

rm grinned, flashing his dimples at the detective, who felt his knees go a little weak against his will. "that's the intention," the mobster replied proudly, "we're your friendly neighborhood ghosts."

seokjin snorted. "friendly? that's bull! every time you commit a crime i get called in. you really should be more careful," the detective added with a small smirk, "kim namjoon."

rm - or rather, kim namjoon - froze. "how do you know my name?" he asked in a rather dangerous tone, reaching for something attached to his belt.

seokjin hummed, unfazed. "wouldn't do that if i were you, joon-ah." he playfully wiggled a gun between his fingers.

namjoon swore viciously, patting himself down. "how do you know my name? how the hell did you even get my gun?" true enough, the gun that was regularly attached to the holster at his hip was now sitting snugly in seokjin's hand.

the detective grinned. "check your hoodie."

namjoon twisted around in his jacket, unleashing another slew of expletives when he realized his name had been sewn onto a small tag at the back. "how - what? i never even knew that was there!" he muttered something about helicopters and aunts under his breath that seokjin couldn't quite hear, but could guess the gist of anyway.

"it's called the art of observation," the detective drawled with a wink in the other man's direction, "do try to keep up."

he watched as namjoon's mouth fell open in a silent scream before snapping shut again.

seokjin 1, namjoon 0.

7 notes · View notes

minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years ago

Text

Ephemera Chapter Sixteen

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Woo hello! I’ve had a wild few days, but here we are! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. As always, I’m so so grateful for your support and feedback. It means more to me than I’ll ever be able to say. I’ll try to get this chapter up on time, but it might come a few hours early/late because of the way the queue system works on Tumblr. Anyway, please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later, so for now check my masterlist to find previous chapters!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all! And concert videos!!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

My common sense returned quickly and I leapt away from Jungkook, hands touching my mouth. His eyes were wide, lips still pursed like we were kissing, and there was a look in his face like he’d been slapped: shock and betrayal. I watched, nervous, as he opened his mouth to say something, probably something too loud. Before his mind could run circles, I shook my head and approached quickly once more, clamping a hand over his mouth.

“We’re in your headquarters right now,” I whispered tersely.

I glanced around the back corner, suspicious, and thought perhaps I caught sight of movement out the corner of my eye beside the dividers. My whole body tensed and I clenched my jaw.

“If we’re gonna talk more, we’ve gotta get out of here,” I said through my teeth, glancing around.

Jungkook stiffened beneath my fingertips and nodded once. “Let’s go to my apartment,” he mumbled against my palm.

My eyes flashed back toward him, brows furrowed. “And risk running into Seokjin?”

He blinked at me. “Then…yours?”

I swallowed hard, thinking. Was this wise? Was it a good idea to indulge this relationship that would, undoubtedly, end poorly a second time? I wasn’t certain. But I knew from the shy warmth in his cheeks and the way his eyes were already smiling that I didn’t have much of a choice.

I kicked off my shoes and fell against the sofa with a thud, sighing as my legs draped over the arm of the couch. Jungkook chuckled and joined me, sitting properly beside my head. He smoothed his hand against my forehead, guiding my hair out of my face. I wanted to hate it, to hate him, but I simply eased into the feeling and shut my eyes, humming a little.

“So let’s talk,” he said gently, voice soft but strong. Just like him.

I nodded. “What are we gonna talk about?”

He sounded like he was smiling when he replied. “How’s your dad?”

I sighed. “Good. That good-for-nothing punk he hired for harvesting is still slacking.”

He chuckled and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “You two really are similar.”

“You said that last time,” I mumbled, opening one eye to look up at him.

He smiled and nodded, staring at me from above with a tenderness that nearly knocked the breath out of me. “What I mean is…you two are both really soft on other people.”

“Oh,” I said, sitting upright and pulling my legs to my chest, putting distance between the two of us. I smirked. “Then was I too soft on forgiving you?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled me to his side with a laugh. “Don’t bully me.”

“I’ve earned it.”

He sighed. “Anyway…you’re a bit different these days.”

I was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

“I’m proud of you.”

I stiffened, glancing at him out the corner of my eye. He was smiling gently, looking at the opposite wall like there was something interesting there and not a blank TV screen. He smoothed absent circles into my shoulder as his arm draped across it. The picture of ease, it was almost like the words had escaped without a plan.

I swallowed hard and felt the need to look away, my cheeks flaring. I cleared my throat. “Ah, well…,” I began, smiling at my hands as they sat on my lap. “Thank you.”

“When I was a kid, I won a taekwondo competition for the first time,” said Jungkook with a smile and a nod. “And my dad said, ‘Good. Now do it again so they don’t think it was a fluke.’” He hummed. “Now that you’re here, you gotta keep doing well for yourself to prove that it’s not just a fluke.”

I raised my brows. “Your…your dad,” I hedged, eyeing him from below. He looked peaceful, still unbothered. I exhaled slowly. “You mentioned your dad was a deadbeat…”

He nodded. “Mhm,” he said with a comfortable sigh. “Had a shitty DVD rental shop that went under.”

I watched the patch of sunlight from the window shift with the geometric shadows of a tree branch in the breeze. “Did he open it himself?”

“Yeah, asshole had no business opening a shop,” he said with a sigh. “He’s a drunk, you know? So he’d always go into the store hammered and drive customers away. When I was young, I used to help out around the shop, but every day I watched him sit behind the counter like a prop or something. He rarely spoke to the customers, rarely stocked the shelves. Just…an all-around shitty owner.”

I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder. “You picked up the slack?”

He hummed. “Yep,” he said, then I felt him shrug. “Wasn’t so bad. You learn a lot when you’re working young. How to be responsible even when adults aren’t,” he chuckled. “Mom used to scold me for going there after school instead of coming home and doing my schoolwork. But I told her I wanted to be a taekwondo champ so I didn’t need an education anyway. Said I might as well help Dad.”

“Was it stressful?”

“No,” he said with a sigh. “Scary sometimes, since Dad gets loud when he’s drunk. No, like…aggressive. Just loud and stupid.”

I nodded. “You took on a lot as a kid.”

“Wasn’t ever a problem until it started interfering with my taekwondo,” he said. He ran his fingers up and down my arm. Like a comforting gesture. Like I was the one who needed comforting. “I had to start skipping practice to work since Dad wasn’t pulling his weight and eventually I had to quit. Mom was pissed, but she thought I might focus more on my grades.”

“Wait, you had to quit just like that?” I asked, stunned. I sat up and looked at him head-on, eyes wide.

He laughed and raised a hand to pat my head, smoothing my hair down. “Just like that.”

I furrowed my brow. “That’s not fair at all.”

“Life’s like that sometimes. Only the lucky ones expect it to be fair,” he said, then shrugged and guided me back to his side. “It’s pretty lucky though, because since I was spending so much time at the DVD shop I got to watch a lot of movies. Got really interested in film.”

“So that’s how you found your passion,” I said with a nod.

He smiled. “Cute,” he said, chuckling as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “I guess you could put it that way.” He exhaled, long and slow, and rested his cheek against my head. “Seeing all those directors, watching the art they made from the ugly, everyday parts of life…it was definitely inspiring in a weird way. Made me feel like even if I was miserable, at least it would make for good film.”

The more I heard, the more similar Jungkook and Taehyung seemed to me…

I laughed. “That’s dark, Jungkook,” I said, sighing. “Edvard Munch said that art comes from both joy and pain,” I began, eyeing him with a smile, “but mostly pain.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Edvard guy’s right,” he said. “I guess…when the shop went bankrupt it was most devastating for me. Probably because of all the films we’d have to destroy. The life we’d have to destroy. Maybe it’s because I was a teenager, but it kinda felt like everything I loved was running away from me and there was nothing I could do to hold onto it.”

I nodded. “Is that when you started selling drugs?” I asked, and immediately regretted it.

He stiffened, eyes wide. “Who told you about that?”

I shook my head. “Seokjin mentioned it while I was…uh…kidnapped,” I said, voice trailing off.

Jungkook sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, and nodded. “I mean…it’s better for you to know anyway I guess.” He leaned back into the couch with a pout. “Anyway, yeah. My mom didn’t have a college degree so she could only find shitty work. Waitressing and stuff. And Haneul was just getting into middle school, so we needed the money. He was doing really well in his classes and his teachers thought that if he started taking it seriously, he could get into one of the SKY universities. So…my mom and I started pulling the family up by the bootstraps I guess.”

“Your mom knew you were dealing?” I asked, leaning away to get a better look at him.

There was an old shame in the set of his eyes, the clenching of his jaw. He nodded. “She figured since I was already behind, it didn’t matter what I did as long as it helped the family. We kinda staked all our hopes on Haneul,” he said, shrugging. He wouldn’t look directly at me. “I wasn’t pulling in good money, Dad stopped working altogether and started drinking more, Haneul was trying his best but he was stressed, and my grades were…depressing.”

“But…you got into college…?” I urged, scanning his face.

He chuckled, knotting his hands. “Ah, yeah. Barely. By the time I was applying, Seokjin had found me on the streets and he pulled a few strings. My test scores were just good enough for them to overlook my grades, and with Jin’s help I got in.”

“Jin helped you into college?” I asked, something odd tugging at my heart.

He nodded. “Jin believed in me. Thought it was wrong for me to be selling at my age. I mean, I was eighteen and all so don’t worry, but…,” he sighed. “Anyway, he wanted me to make a better life for myself and he offered me work.”

“So the money you make with Bangtan…,” I began, watching him carefully.

His eyes fell to the floor, face flush. “Uh, yeah. It’s…it’s all going back home.”

“Is Jin letting you live with him for free then?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah…”

“And if I succeed and Jin loses everything…”

He turned to me abruptly, eyes wide, and shook his head, grabbing my hands. “No, no! Don’t think about that. I’m already looking into jobs and I’ve got some interviews coming up in a week or so. It’ll be fine.”

I swallowed hard, heart racing, and nodded. But if Jungkook’s reasons for joining the group were so heartbreaking, I didn’t even want to imagine what the others’ were…

Quietly, I reached my hand out and pressed my palm against his jawline, pulling him toward me. I pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and pulled away, throat tight, with a smile. “You’ve done well, Jungkook.”

His eyes went a little misty, welling up as his lower lids went red. He scanned me for a moment that felt endless, glassy eyes flashing between mine, before he slowly pulled me against his chest and held me tight in an embrace that felt desperate. I slipped my arms around his back and squeezed.

I rocked backwards and forwards on my heels as I stood beside the gallery doors. It seemed that the chaos that Taehyung’s reveal had caused was slowly dying, as traffic to the gallery had slowed significantly. The space itself, however, held remnants of the stampedes. The lightwood floors still bore the scuffs of numerous feet and several frames were nicked and chipped from being bumped.

The relative calm and quiet was welcome to all of us, as Yuri and I worked opposite one another. She sat at the desk, half-asleep as she stared blankly at the computer screen. A few patrons walked past me and I offered them a smile and a bow, waiting until their footsteps had receded to raise myself up once more, making absolutely sure that my hair was settled properly in its bun.

“Y/N, good morning,” said a voice from beside me.

I nearly, jumped, but collected myself and turned to see who had greeted me. Standing slightly shorter than me, Mr. Kwon held his hands latched behind his back, a smile on his face. Seeing him in such a good mood was curious and unusual, but rather than risk incurring his frustration I kept my observation to myself and opted for a simple smile and a bow of my head.

“You seem well today,” he remarked, nodding once.

I smiled. “Yes, Sir.”

“The recent influx in customers has been…disarming for you employees, hasn’t it?” he asked, eyeing me.

I raised my brows. “Ah, well…I certainly can’t speak for everyone, but I would say it’s been a sizable challenge.”

He nodded. “I thought so,” he said with a sigh. “I only ask since you seem rather in touch with your coworkers.”

I stiffened, clasping my hands in front of my thighs. “I do?” I asked.

He smiled slightly, a rare sight, and nodded. “After our discussion of dress code, I started wondering if I was just out of touch with you all,” he said, huffing a little as he adjusted his suit jacket. “Everyone’s performance improved once dress code slackened. I realized that you seemed to understand your coworkers well.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can accept that compliment, Sir.”

He smiled again and nodded. “You have a good sense when you speak up,” he said, exhaling long and slow. Surely, he’d just gotten some good news. This was entirely too out of character to be organic. “I told you once that people only have the power you give them. I think you’re doing well protecting your power.”

I stiffened, swallowing hard. How many of these affirmations could I get? Everyone was saying I’d changed. And if someone as dense as Mr. Kwon could notice, it must have been pretty obvious. Why, then, did something in me feel slightly dissonant? Like it wasn’t lining up just right.

I supposed, when I really thought about it, could I take credit for any of the changes I’d made?

After all, if it weren’t for Taehyung and Jungkook…would I have even bothered to change at all…?

“I’ll be having a meeting with those Japanese philanthropists from a while back,” he said, then smiled again. Unnerving. “The ones you sold to before.”

I nodded. “I remember,” I said with a small, contained grin.

“We’re having some big talks with them moving forward, so please be on your best behavior if they send anyone to the gallery,” said Mr. Kwon with a bow.

I knew I shouldn’t, but my curiosity got the best of me and I grabbed for his cuff. He turned to me with wide eyes. “Uh…what sort of talks are happening?” I asked.

He smiled and put a finger to his lips, a playful bid for silence, and I felt even more unsettled. “Confidential. But when things are set, I promise you will be the first employee to know.”

I raised my brows. “Me?”

He nodded. “I’ll tell you more as we know more,” he began, swiveling on his heel before snapping his fingers and turning back to me. “Ah! Would you grab the new print from the back and place it in the photography section?”

I stiffened. Taehyung started working again? Slowly, I smiled and nodded. “Certainly, Sir.”

“Keep up the good work, ladies!” he called over his shoulder before walking back down the hallway.

Yuri and I exchanged puzzled looks before I shrugged my shoulders and followed suit, wandering down the hall until I reached the back room. A flood of memories rushed over me as I stepped inside the dark, dusty storage space. It felt like a lifetime had passed since I was following Jungkook back here, discovering Taehyung’s workroom, nearly getting caught…

I sighed and picked up my step, grabbing the covered print and removing the white sheet. I folded it and set it atop a shelf, turning back to the piece. And as I did, my confusion and unease only grew.

There in black and white was the familiar scene of Taehyung’s living room, blown up massive. The shot framed the side of his couch from the angle of the floor, leading the eye right toward the window and the monochrome morning light streaming in in shafts and spots. And, dangling off the edge of the couch, was a hand that didn’t look like Taehyung’s. I took a peek at my own fingers and, slowly, pressed them against the photo, matching them with the one in black and white.

A perfect match…

Pulling my jacket up around my shoulders, I walked slowly out onto the sidewalk, bracing the chill with a shiver. I ambled out along the concrete for a moment, my mind absent in my body. Why had Taehyung taken that photo of me? And furthermore, why had he decided to display it for sale in the gallery? Beyond confused, I was…unsettled. Had our relationship ever been that intimate? Had I been sending him signals that I didn’t mean to send?

Or…did I mean to send them?

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jumped to answer it. “Hello?” I asked, plugging my free ear to block out the city noise.

“Y/N?”

I sighed, leaning against the front of the building, and gripped the bridge of my nose. Of course he had to call right now. “Namjoon…”

He chuckled, like something was funny, before replying. “The one and only,” he said, then hummed. “Although you don’t sound thrilled to hear from me.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. Kind of…a weird day. Lot on my mind.”

“Understood,” he said, clearing his throat. “Not that this topic isn’t fascinating, but I actually called for an update on your work.”

“Work…,” I breathed before it made sense. “Ah, yeah. Well, not much to update yet.”

He was quiet, pensive, for a beat too long. A beat that made me tap my foot on the floor, restless. “Well that’s…unfortunate.”

“Sorry.”

“Have you been trying to infiltrate?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m in and everything. Just…can’t get that information you need. They keep their documents locked up in a basement that I don’t have access to, especially with all the eyes on me there. There’s no way in from the sides and no way to sneak in during the day.”

“Well you’re gonna have to get access.”

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “I’ve already got a plan, Namjoon.”

“Unless it involves you dropping from the ceiling in the middle of the night and dangling from a wire, I don’t really know if it’ll work. You said this basement is strictly monitored,” he quipped with a sigh.

I nodded, exhausted, and scratched my arm. “A recording,” I said.

“And you think this leader is just gonna spill everything to you?” he asked.

I shrugged, picking at my nail. “I can steer the conversation.”

“You can steer it toward revealing trade secrets?”

I chuckled. “You underestimate how stupid he is.”

He sighed. “I hope so…,” he said, quiet once again. “Well…I guess I’ve just gotta leave it to you then.”

“I guess so.”

“Well…I won’t keep you then. Get to work.”

I scoffed. I’d just gotten off work and already-

I managed a tight-lipped smile and nodded once more, though he couldn’t see. “Sure thing,” I said before hanging up and shoving my phone roughly into my bag.

He didn’t strike me as a bad man. Perhaps a little eccentric and enigmatic, but not mean-spirited. But the guilt was starting to get to me. If exposing Seokjin meant ruining the lives of the people working under him…

Could I justify my petty revenge plot?

I rubbed my chin and stewed over it, so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice Nara standing beside a pillar, coat pulled up around her neck, chin buried in her shirt, eyes down and sniffling. But when I did see her, I nearly jumped out of my skin and without a second’s pause, I rushed to her side and grabbed her by the upper arms.

“Nara!” I said, gasping as she looked at me properly. Her silver hair was disheveled and her skin was red, eyes puffy and cheeks wet from still-falling tears. No makeup, just the natural blush of crying. “Oh my God,” I said, and she fell into my arms like she was falling into a warm bed.

She hugged me tightly, holding tightly to my back. So tight that it almost hurt. I wrapped my arms snug around her shoulders and ran my hand along the back of her head, cooing her softly.

“Hey, hey,” I said gently against her hair. She sniffled, crying quietly like she always did. “What’s going on, hm?”

She shook her head against my chest, dampening my shirt. “I…,” she began, then shook her head once more and clutched my back tighter.

I smoothed her hair, shushing her, and nodded. “It’s alright. It’s okay,” I said, guiding her toward the nearby bus stop.

Thankfully at this time of afternoon, it wasn’t too busy. I sat her down on the bench and took the spot beside her, creating a barrier between her and the rest of the world. Still crying, she hugged her legs to her chest and leaned against the side of the bus stop awning. I took her hand in mine and urged her to look at me.

Bloodshot, her eyes were practically shaking as they danced around my face. “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked.

She rubbed her nose and nodded, eyes on the crack in the concrete like it might swallow her up and she might let it. “I lost my job,” she said, voice weak, quivering.

My heart lurched. “Y-you what?”

She nodded, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

She sighed and rubbed her arms. “You know that one customer who comes in a lot? The one who saved the stray?” she asked.

I stiffened. Min Yoongi. Swallowing hard, I glanced at her and saw nothing but broken pieces, barely adhered together, of the girl I knew. Cautiously, I nodded my head. “Yeah…”

“Well, he came in looking for a proper food bowl since he’s been feeding that cat out of tupperware or something,” she said, shaking her head. “And he looked, like…like he couldn’t afford it, you know? Like ten bucks on a bowl wasn’t in the monthly budget.”

“Nara…,” I began, groaning.

She sobbed. “I know!” she said, crying into the tops of her knees. “It’s so stupid!”

“Did you just give it to him for free?” I asked.

She nodded. “We break those shitty things all the time at work. Like, bumping the shelf and one breaks. Or sweeping and the broom knocks one down. They’re breakable and cheap,” she said, shaking her head. “So I figured that if I just said I broke it, it’d be fine.”

“Nara,” I said again, brows knit as I rubbed her back.

“I know,” she said. “My boss has been really crazy about the records lately since something keeps happening to the schedule. And on top of it since the shop’s not doing well, he needs to check the video if anything breaks and he saw me giving it to him.”

“Wait, something’s happening with your schedules?” I asked, the wheels in my brain beginning to turn in an unsettling direction.

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “He accused me of doing it since it’s usually my schedule that ends up getting changed. That’s why I haven’t had closing shifts these days,” she said, woeful. “I’d be thankful for a closing shift now…”

I sighed. “Why did you do that, Nara? That guy doesn’t-,” I began, then stopped and shook my head. “He probably doesn’t even need the charity.”

She rubbed her neck and shrugged. “I dunno…,” she mumbled.

I gaped. “Nara,” I said, shaking her arm so she’d look at me with those red, worried eyes. “You didn’t do it just because you have a crush on him, did you?”

“No!” she answered, too quick. I raised my brows and she cried again, crashing into my chest. “Maybe a little bit!”

I rubbed her back despite my frustration and sighed. “Let’s get you home. I’ll find a way to fix this.”

“What?” she asked, pulling back and revealing her tear-stained, red-cheeked face. “What can you do?”

I shook my head. “I’ll explain it some other time. For now just…cry it out,” I said, guiding her back into my side. Even though my motions were gentle, rage was seething in my stomach. And I knew just how to address it.

“Min Yoongi, what the fuck did you do?”

Yoongi jumped as I approached his work desk at the HQ, eyes wide. He pulled his big headphones off his ears and lowered his laptop screen. He was dressed sharper then usual, crisp white dress shirt tucked into nice black slacks. His hair was styled out of his face, and his shoes looked polished. What had he dressed up for anyway? I scoffed. Poor, my ass.

He blinked up at me. “I-what? What do you mean?”

I crossed my arms, furious, and sighed. “Nara lost her job because of you.”

Yoongi stiffened. “What?” he asked, and in his eyes I caught a flicker of genuine shock and guilt.

“She gave you that dog bowl,” I said, then scoffed and shook my head. “But no. That’s not enough for her boss to fire her on the spot.”

Yoongi swallowed hard. “She…”

“Her boss thinks she’s been messing with the schedule to shift it in her favor,” I said, turning my eyes down toward him. He stared off into the middle distance, like his mind was someplace else. “Now, who do we know who can hack into a pet shop’s online schedule and change it, hm?”

Yoongi shook his head and stood up, staggering toward me with one hand extended, palm up like he was asking for something. “Give me her number. I’ll fix it.”

“You’ve done enough,” I said, shaking my head. His eyes flashed toward mine. My stomach clenched. Guilt. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “Listen, I know you had good intentions.”

He nodded. “I-I just wanted to help her…,” he said, eyes getting faraway once again.

“I know. But…this is Nara’s livelihood on the line, you know? You can’t just stick your hands in someone else’s life like that and expect no consequences,” I said, sighing. “It’s just shitty that the only one having to take responsibility for this is her.”

Yoongi glanced at me like I’d hit a nerve and I almost wished to take it back, but I stood firm. Keeping my eyes on him without wavering. Not even once. “I…Y/N, I’ll take responsibility. I’ll take responsibility.” He repeated it like a mantra, like he wasn’t talking to me anymore. Not really.

I nodded. “I want to believe that, but…I don’t know if I can trust you to do that,” I said, sighing. I gave his shoulder a pat. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Seokjin breezing in through the front doors, and once he noticed me he made a beeline. “You can’t run away though, Yoongi. You’ve gotta face it, okay? No hiding behind a computer screen,” I said, angling my body so Seokjin wouldn’t see my hand sliding into my bag and grabbing my phone as he approached. I quickly pulled up the recorder app and began recording, turning back to Yoongi whose eyes were wide on me. I held a finger to my lips and nodded. “Consider this part of you taking responsibility,” I whispered before shoving my phone back in my pocket and turning to face Seokjin.

He smirked when he saw me. “Huh, would you look at that. And here I thought you were never gonna fulfill your part of the deal,” he said with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Kim Seokjin,” I said, making sure I enunciated every syllable. Even if I felt guilty doing it. “I’ve got a bit of info if you want it.”

He raised his brows. “You don’t say? Well, let’s head down to my office,” he said with a broad smile, sweeping his arm toward the stairs.

I nodded and followed him. We walked in silence until we were in the safe confines of the basement and I settled in the chair in front of his desk. I crossed my legs and watched him carefully, like a deer watching a cougar. Cautious, alert, ready to flee at any moment.

But as he settled into his seat with a contented sigh, I remembered who I was dealing with. “Tell me your news!” he said, clapping his hands once.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve been having meetings with his parents. Turns out his dad owns a law firm and his sister is in the US studying law.”

Seokjin cocked a brow. “Huh,” he said, nodding. “That’s pretty good. Two possible angles.”

I nearly scoffed. What could he possibly do with such vague information? I offered a smile and nodded. “He comes from a pretty wealthy family, so I don’t think taking a financial approach will work,” I said with a nod. “He’s got more than enough money.”

“Right,” said Seokjin, rubbing his jaw. “I’ll think of something.” He paused and glanced back at me, raising his brows. “Is there more?”

I shook my head. “That’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll keep digging though,” I said with a nod.

Seokjin sighed. “Well, nonetheless thanks for the help. He’s a tough guy to crack. Even Yoongi’s having trouble pulling up personal information on him. It’s good that we have you around.”

I stiffened. “Are you…complimenting me right now?” I asked, nearly laughing.

He rolled his eyes. “No,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I’m just saying that I appreciate you doing this. Whatever your motivation is…you’re helping us a lot.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, eyes falling to the desk between us. “I know we don’t have this kind of relationship, but I’m curious,” I began, eyeing him to make sure I wasn’t pushing too hard. “Why is this job so important to you?”

Seokjin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb. “The stakes,” he said with a nod. “They’re…really high. Our client isn’t someone to mess around with.”

“And if you don’t fulfill your end of the bargain?”

He looked up at me seriously, brows furrowed. “The consequences…will be severe,” he said. It was the most serious I’d ever seen him. And in his eyes was a small measure of fear.

I swallowed white hot guilt down my throat and nodded. “I…I see…”

“It’s why Jungkook wanted you to stop involving yourself,” he said with a nod. “It’s remarkably dangerous.”

I nodded. “Yoongi said something similar,” I said.

Seokjin laced his fingers and rested his hands against his lips, eyes focused on something on his desk. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re…not really the sort of person who should be involved in all this. You know, corporations are competitive. They’ve gotta be. Markets shift constantly, so you’ve gotta keep an edge.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” I remarked.

He smirked. “Grew up around it. Silver spoon kid,” he said, sighing. “Growing up in a household like that, I saw how ruthless big companies can get. I realized that corporations are just legal criminals. Figured I could at least get a cut off the corruption.”

My eyes went wide. “All corporations are like that?” I asked.

He shook his head and sighed. “Not Ori,” he said with a nod. “It’s a shame we’ve gotta ruin them, since they’re one of the only good ones to get big.”

“Do…do you have to?” I asked.

He ran fingers through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, our client is no joke. If we don’t keep up our end, we could lose a lot more than just money,” he said.

“So you’re being coerced?”

“No,” said Seokjin with a chuckle. “You think really diametrically. Things are rarely that absolute.”

I sighed. “But you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared of anything.”

“You’re scared of your client.”

He was quiet for a moment, before meeting my eyes severely. “You would be too if you knew who they were.”

I raised my brows, heart racing as I neared the elusive piece of crucial information I’d been seeking from the start. “Try me,” I offered.

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes for a moment, then looked at me dead on. And without him saying a single word, I felt his anxiety. I felt his uneasiness. I felt his fear. I felt it all. He inhaled sharply and lowered his gaze. “Our client,” he began, and my legs bounced with anticipation, “is Sanyo Industries.”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts ot7 au #bts series #bts reader insert

85 notes · View notes