#I’m not a big theory enthusiast so the buzz around it back in the day wasn’t really for me

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[scmg11]

HAILEE STEINFELD x READER

ARE YOU READING A FANFICTION? (PART 1)

A/N: HELLO HELLO HELLO! Sorry again for disappearing but I went on a trip with my family, but I had a bit of time to write a few things despite being really tired.

Am I making amends by writing smut? Yes, yes I am.

So enjoy this idea I had for a while.

Oh, I almost forgot. Someone requested something similar and fear not, I will write about that request as a part 2! I decided to make a mini fic about this prompt, so there will be a part 2!

Enjoy!

Sending love ❤️

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Summary: while spending a girls day together, Hailee discovers accidentally an intriguing secret about Y/N.

Warnings: smut.

Word count: 9073 words.

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A soft humming sound bounced around the otherwise silent house and mingled with the pleasant noise of birds chirping happily outside during a wonderful, sunny spring day. The Y/H/C girl moved around the house in a hurry, tidying up a bit the living room as she waited for her best friend to come over for a much due girls day. The actress jumped up in fright when the peaceful silence in her house got interrupted by the doorbell ringing loudly, but she recovered quickly and sprinted to answer the door, her whole body buzzing in excitement and anticipation while a big, bright smile stretched over her lips, that said grin only broadening when the Y/E/C girl opened her door and met a just as much enthusiastic brunette. "Haiz!"

"Y/N/N!" The singer squealed joyfully before meeting her best friend in a bone crushing hug, both girls squeezing the other hard as they soaked up in the comforting and relaxing embrace. "I missed you so much."

"Me too Haiz. Don’t ever leave me again."

"Deal." Hailee giggled after she pulled away and thanked the girl with a still bright grin when she stepped aside and invited her in her house. "As long as you do not leave me too."

"Consider it done Haiz." Y/N smiled sweetly at her best friend before she grabbed her right hand and pulled her towards the living room, where she already prepared all they needed for their girls day. "Okay, we have popcorn, any kind of candy you could ever imagine, soft drinks, we can order pizza, or Chinese, or whatever we want and the better part- alcohol." Y/N wiggled her eyebrows mischievously as she lifted two of the many bottles of beers she bought and a bottle of vodka.

Hailee giggled at the girl’s goofiness and shook her head, "that’s why I love you. You are the best." Hailee was too much occupied in taking in the coffee table full of any type of snacks and beverages to notice the Y/H/C girl blushing furiously at her innocent words and scolding herself for being so pathetically in love with her best friend.

"So, how was filming?"

-

"No, I’m telling you- she is good. She is just playing a double game to gain informations." Y/N insisted with her theory as she pointed to the screen with a popcorn kettle in her hand, before throwing it into her mouth and chewing on it pensively.

"I still don’t trust her, she had been a bitch the whole time."

"Don’t hate on my baby." Y/N gasped indignantly at the singer, throwing popcorn at her when she giggled cutely. "Beatrix is good. I can assure you that." The two of them had been catching up on Fate: The Winx Saga all afternoon and had been commenting about the series here and there, exchanging theories and ideas about the whole plot and characters while sitting side by side on the couch, their shoulders touching, Hailee’s legs laid over Y/N’s ones made them both feel wrapped by a sense of domesticity that warmed their chest and made their hearts skip a few beats. "Okay, 5 minutes break. I need to pee."

"Hey when you get back, can you bring me a glass of water?" Hailee asked at Y/N walking towards the hallway that led to the bathroom, smiling appreciatively at her when the girl turned around and lifted her thumbs up with a bright grin, "thank you!" The brunette sighed contentedly as she relaxed onto the couch, staring at the paused episode with Bloom on display ready to play when her eyes got pulled away from the screen at her phone dinging. She furrowed her eyebrows when she lifted it up and noticed it wasn’t her phone, but Y/N’s one with a Wattpad notification. She was ready to put it back down on the couch and forget about it, but right before she could do that her eyes focused on her name featured in the notification. She stared at her reflection on the now black screen with her eyebrows furrowed together for a few seconds, before tapping on it and looking again at the notification on the lock screen.

Y/S/Nlover (Your Ship Name) updated Electric love - a Y/N Y/L/N and Hailee Steinfeld fanfiction.

"What the-?" Hailee asked under her breath confused, clicking on the screen when it became black once again and stared some more at the notification with her puzzlement deepening on her features. Curiosity got the best of her and before she could second guess her actions, she tapped on the notification and watched the Face ID recognize her and unlock the phone a second later. Her eyes took in as Wattpad opened and swept her eyes quickly over the words written on the chapter before her, her mind reeling out of control when she realized she was indeed reading a fanfiction about Y/N and herself. "It’s not possible, is it?" Hailee whispered in shock as her brown pools took in each word, before exiting the story and clicking on Y/N’s account, wanting to make sure her own imagination wasn’t deceiving her. Looked on the outside, it was a normal account. She chose @awkwardidiot as the name for her Wattpad account and as she scrolled through her reading lists she realized everyone could say it was a fan account shipping Y/N Y/L/N and Hailee Steinfeld. Except it wasn’t. It was Y/N’s own personal account. "Holy shit."

"I made some extra popcorn and I got your glass of- what are you doing?"

Hailee jumped up in fright at the voice reaching her ears, in her unfocused state she didn’t hear Y/N’s footsteps approaching her, making the phone bounce off her hands and fall on her lap as a little squeal left the singer’s lips. "Shit Y/N, you scared me."

Y/N giggled cutely and shook her head as she resumed her walk after she stopped when she entered the living room, sitting down on the couch and placing everything she had in her hands on the coffee table. "Wait- is that my phone?" Y/N asked with her eyebrows furrowed together when her eyes noticed the device onto Hailee’s lap and recognized her phone case. When she entered the living room she thought Hailee was texting someone on her own phone or was checking Instagram or Twitter and she was too far away to notice the phone case anyway, so she assumed it was the singer’s phone. But when she jumped in fright the device slipped out from her hands and fell on her lap, so there was no mistaking. Hailee was using her phone. "Haiz please tell me you didn’t post something embarrassing about me on my Instagram again." Y/N whined in protest at Hailee, still quiet and with her eyes a bit widened in shock, and stretched her hand over to retrieve it from the singer’s lap, "last time you posted a video of me snoring while cuddling a bag of chips. I see that video everywhere on Ins-" Y/N stopped mid-sentence as her smile dropped off from her face when she unlocked her phone and it opened on her Wattpad account. Her widened eyes looked up from the screen to gaze at Hailee flabbergasted and scared of what she might have discovered.

"I-I’m so so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to pry and look into your phone, but when you got up to go into the bathroom, I heard a ringing sound and I thought it was my phone, but when I grabbed it, I noticed it was yours. I was about to place it back down b-but t-then I saw my name into the notification and I-I got curious." Hailee let out in one breath, word vomiting at lightning speed to try to explain everything fully to Y/N. "I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have done that."

"H-how much did you see?"

"Well I- look, you don’t need to worry. I won’t say anything about your Wattpad account."

"Well- the point was to keep it away from you, obviously." Y/N stated dejected as she blocked her phone and placed it on the coffee table beside the snacks scattered around it, before playing around with her fingers in a nervous manner as she tried to avoid Hailee’s eyes as much as she could.

"I’m sorry."

"I should be the one to say it." Hailee was trying to get Y/N’s attention, but the girl was adamant to avoid her gaze at all costs with staring intently on her phone in front of her.

"Just because you have a Wattpad account?" Hailee asked innocently, wishing her pretending she didn’t see anything would make Y/N less uncomfortable, even if she saw enough to spark hope in the pit of her stomach.

"You don’t need to play dumb Hailee. I know you saw everything." Y/N finally met Hailee’s eyes and almost fainted when the singer grounded her into her gaze, freezing her in her spot.

"And tell me Y/N, what did I see exactly?" Hailee asked in a firm tone that held an underlying dash of teasing and seduction in it.

"Don’t make me explain it." Y/N whispered out almost pained, her eyes prickling with tears as her mind was busy overthinking everything as only one thought swam through it. I screwed everything up.

"Do you want me to do it? Okay, let’s start from the beginning." Hailee smirked imperceptibly as she sat closer to Y/N, who was trying to move away from her, but the singer’s hand gripping the actress’ arm prevented her to.

"Please Hailee n-"

"First thing first, I didn’t want snoop around into your phone. Like I said I thought it was my phone, but when I picked it up I realized it was yours that chimed in. I was ready to put it down but my name in the notification piqued my interest."

"You don’t have to explain-"

"And what I saw, only raised my curiosity tenfold. I clicked on it and let me tell you, wow."

"Haiz please."

"But what was more fascinating was finding you saved hundreds of stories about us." Hailee’s smirk was now out on display as she finished her quick retelling, then leaning over and taking Y/N’s phone, unlocking it and scrolling over Y/N’s reading list. "Look at all these intriguing fics."

"Hailee, I’m sorry. Can we please put this behind us? I understand if you can’t do that, but just know I am truly sorry for what I’ve done."

"And what exactly have you done?" Hailee asked in a humming tone, lifting her right eyebrow up teasingly as her sly grin broadened.

"I-I read t-them."

"Just that?"

"Y-yeah."

"Mh." Hailee lowered the phone on her lap and stared deeply into Y/N’s eyes, instinctively leaning their faces closer, "want to know what I think?" Hailee trailed off just a moment, knowing the girl won’t ever answer to her rhetorical question, "I think you did more than just read."

"I-I-I-"

"Did you touch yourself while reading a fanfic about us? Did you enjoy it?"

Y/N whimpered pathetically under her breath, but the sound was loud enough to let the singer hear it, also thanks to their proximity, and putting a big grin on her lips, "I-"

Hailee was fighting against herself from kissing the girl adorably struggling on not fainting from too much embarrassment in front of her, the yearning she had been stashing inside was almost close to explode, but she just kept on a few more seconds to state her next revelation, "do you want to know a secret? I’ve been touching myself thinking about us too, minus the reading fanfictions about us. I honestly didn’t think about it, but I definitely will from now on."

"W-what?" Y/N’s eyes widened comically at that, not believing those words left Hailee’s mouth, but before the Y/H/C girl could stammer out a counter back, the singer clashed their lips together in a passionate kiss, pushing more into the girl’s face when she heard her wail under her breath and into her mouth. Their lips moved together in a slow, sensual dance, Hailee’s hands flying on Y/N’s jaw to push the girl’s mouth more onto hers while Y/N’s tentative ones settled on the girl’s hips and gripped her t-shirt tightly. It could have been a minute, an hour or an entire day when they pulled back from the kiss with their lungs burning from lack of air, but they didn’t seem to mind as they stared at one another adoringly with their chests heaving wildly and their lips bruised from their intense activities. "Did that really happen?"

Hailee felt a shiver run down her spine at the girl’s raspy tone, but tried to look cool in front of Y/N, so she put on a smile and nodded gingerly, "yes it did."

"Wait, you’re not mad?"

"Why would I be?" Hailee giggled before leaning over and pecking Y/N’s lips soundly, "those fanfics were the reason I kissed you. I was too scared to ask you out thinking you didn’t feel the same way, but when I saw your account full of stories about us, I thought that maybe you have feelings for me after all."

"Oh shit, you like me." Y/N stated dreamily as her grin spread on her face and lighted it up like a Christmas tree, making Hailee giggle at her cuteness.

"Yes, Y/N/N. I like you." Hailee leaned over and joined their mouths again, starting the kiss slowly to savor each passing second, but it soon became hungry as their hands gripped everything they had under reach and both flushed their bodies impossibly together to be as close as they could. They slowed down gradually, sharing sweet kisses and small pecks as both giggled contentedly at how things worked out. "When did you start reading those stories?"

"About a year ago. I knew I liked you for a while and-"

"Hold on a second, really?"

"Yeah." Y/N looked down sheepishly for involuntarily admitting that, but Hailee’s finger under her chin prevented her to break their staring contest to look down at her hand playing with the singer’s intertwined one.

"Fuck I wish I found out your Wattpad account sooner, because I’ve liked you for almost two years now."

"Well, we’re two dumb bitches." They both giggled in agreement as they nuzzled their noses together adorably when they nodded gently, "anyway, a fan tagged me in a post where she was gushing about a great story she was reading and my hopeless self decided to create a Wattpad account and started reading it. Then I searched for more because I needed more and let me tell you, you can’t even imagine how many people ships us together, there are thousands and thousands of fanfics about us."

"Can you show me?"

"Yeah." Y/N smiled gently at her while a soft blush appeared on her cheeks, "where is my phone?"

Hailee lifted her head up from its leaning position on Y/N’s shoulder and searched with her eyes to locate the device, then her features lighted up like she just remembered something and spread her legs a bit to reveal the phone right between them. "Found it."

"Oh great!" Y/N thought about her action only when her left hand grazed Hailee’s inner thigh, incredibly closer to her center, to retrieve her phone, clearing her throat as her face burned in desire and embarrassment. Meanwhile Hailee gulped silently at the action and forced her center to stop throbbing that much, but boldly placed her hand on Y/N’s low abdomens, right above the hem of her pants, and caressed teasingly Y/N’s stomach over the fabric of her shirt with the pad of her fingers as soon as she cuddled Y/N, both leaning on the couch comfortably. "Mh." Hailee sighed out contentedly when a sense of coziness wrapped around herself at Y/N’s gesture of pulling her more into her body as she unlocked her iPhone.

"So, where do we start?"

"I don’t know. I’ve never used Wattpad, so I don’t exactly know how it all works."

"It’s pretty simple. You just search a ship, or a name of an artist, or a genre you want to read about and read the plot to choose the fic that piques your interest the most."

"Well since you already have a lot of fanfics about us saved, we can choose to read one of them." Hailee suggested nonchalantly, her eyes fixated on the screen with Y/N’s account on as her hand never stopped its idle movements on the actress’ stomach, before meeting Y/N’s eyes and smiled at her warmly.

"Oh, yeah- hm, you see." Y/N trailed off hesitantly as she cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump that formed there from their close proximity. Her mind still had to wrap around the fact that now they know they like each other and that she is allowed to kiss Hailee whenever she wanted and it was all thanks to the fanfictions she started reading about an year ago, so it was difficult to function properly with Hailee that close and with everything that happened between them that evening. "I- hm- ugh."

"Hey, Y/N/N. Talk to me." Hailee nuzzled Y/N’s nose to get the girl’s attention when she detached her eyes away from hers shyly, "you can tell me anything, you know that."

"Yes I know, it’s still a bit embarrassing talking about it."

"You shouldn’t be uncomfortable. I promise I’m totally okay with that. Not to mention, those fics are the reason I can do this now." Hailee leaned up to leave a chaste kiss on Y/N’s lips and hummed contentedly as her body filled up with warmth.

"What I wanted to say is- those fics are almost all-"

"Almost all?"

"Y’know- with explicit content."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Y/N sheepishly admitted with her face burning from the deep blush that appeared at her revelation and at the singer’s response. If she wasn’t busy avoiding Hailee’s gaze and looked at the brunette she could see a big, mischievous smirk present on her face so her short response wasn’t because she was uncomfortable or grossed out from the Y/H/C girl’s revelation like Y/N thought after hearing her tone, that she totally misinterpreted, but because she felt her stomach explode with butterflies as her whole body lighted up with deep burning lust and yearning. "I know what you’re thinking-"

"Oh believe me-" Hailee’s raspy voice made Y/N meet her gaze and shivered visibly and gulped loudly, "you don’t know what I’m thinking right now." Hailee admitted with a sultry voice, her words whispered out onto Y/N’s lips that immediately sent Y/N’s mind spiraling out of control. Hailee leaned forward and pulled the Y/H/C girl in a languid, deep kiss, both savoring the other’s wonderful taste and humming blissfully as they sunk contentedly into each other.

"You don’t think I’m like- a desperate creep?" Y/N asked in a small, insecure tone, whispered on Hailee’s lips as her eyes searched desperately Hailee’s ones.

"No, like I said I would have done the exact same thing if I had thought about it."

"And you’re not grossed out for- hm- y’know-" Y/N trailed off shyly while a burning blush adorned her cheeks and neck and Hailee thought that was the best sight she ever witnessed.

"You touching yourself while reading those fics?" Hailee asked boldly, smirking widely when the crimson color on Y/N’s face and neck intensified copiously at her crass words.

"Yeah." Y/N cleared her throat to try to get rid of the lump that formed there as she desperately tried to look away from Hailee’s intense staring, but her brown eyes prevented her to as they locked them into her own Y/E/C pools. "I felt so wrong, but I just couldn’t stop. It was the only thing that helped me understand my feelings completely and to accept them."

"You’re making me feel a lot better now. I touched myself thinking of you, us, of what we could be every single time." Hailee admitted in a hushed, sultry tone, her lips hovering over Y/N’s ones teasingly, the singer smirking cheekily when the Y/H/C girl leaned imperceptibly over to try to connect their mouths together after whining softly under her breath at the brunette’s admission. Hailee teased Y/N a few more seconds before leaning over and kissing Y/N sweetly, not deepening their kisses too much so they wouldn’t get distracted, she still wanted to read what Y/N had been reading for almost a year. "Why don’t we start with a smutty oneshot?"

"Do you want to choose it?" Y/N asked softly, switching her eyes from the phone to Hailee’s intense brown pools and grinned at her gently.

"Sure. Do you have any recommendations?"

"Well I haven’t read them all. A lot of them are fics with a plot that intrigued me and that I saved to read later on. But I haven’t had the chance to read all of them." Y/N explained in a soft tone, the singer hearing closely to her explanation with a small smile gracing her lips.

"Okay, let’s take a look." After scrolling a few books and oneshots, Hailee reading the plot carefully and asking Y/N if she had already read it so they could choose the right one to read together, Hailee stopped to read another story’s plot, before speaking out loud, "there are too many of them that pique my interest! How do you choose the right one?"

"Well I just feel it." Y/N explained simply, stating what she mostly considered a fact. "I often am unsure on what fic read since there are a lot of them that have appealing and intriguing plots, but I know inwardly I already chose the one I want to read."

"Mh-" Hailee hummed pensively, eyeing the screen a bit more, scrolling down a few more fics before clicking on one they previously checked when they read the plots. "How about this one?"

"Oh my god! I’ve always wanted to read it but I never did because I had a few things to read first and then it just slipped when more fics kept coming in."

"Well it’s settled then!" Hailee smiled at Y/N before planting a kiss on her cheek then nuzzling her nose sweetly. "Shall we start?"

"Yes!" Y/N enthusiastically answered as she adjusted their comfortable position on the couch while watching Hailee clicking on the ‘reading’ button to start their fanfiction reading.

The fic started pretty chill, with Y/N and Hailee being best friends and attending the Vanity Fair Oscar After Party, mingling around with their mutual friends, dancing care-freely to the music and having a good time. The things started to get heated when someone tried to hit on Hailee and Y/N got in her protective mode. "Look at feisty Y/N, jealous out of her mind."

"Well, excuse me-" Y/N detached her eyes from the screen to stare at the singer in amused outrage, "could you blame me if you were in my position?"

"Not at all, I was just teasing because we’re not together in the fic."

"Yeah well- Y/N is just trying to be a good friend." Y/N reasoned lamely as her cheeks burned in embarrassment when Hailee giggled cutely at her words.

"Sure." Hailee continued laughing for a few more seconds, before forcing her chuckles to subside to speak once again, "would you have done it for real if something like that happened?"

"Of course, well not that explicitly- but I would have definitely told him to fuck off." Y/N answered resolutely as she held her head high, not trying to hide her true feelings to the brunette.

"Mh I like this jealous side of you. It’s hot."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." The two shared a languid kiss before pulling away when the kiss became a bit heavier, pecking their lips a few times then focusing their attention back on the phone.

"Oh wow." Y/N snickered when unexpectedly they started arguing after Y/N nicely told the guy to ‘fuck off’. "It was unexpected."

"Yeah, I thought we were going to kiss." Hailee pondered out loud as she kept reading, gasping in shock when Y/N told her to ‘go fuck herself’. "Y/N!"

"What?! I didn’t say anything! It’s not my fault!"

"I know, but why are we fighting?! I hate when we fight." Hailee pouted at the actress and Y/N felt the impending need to erase that cute pout off Hailee’s lips with a kiss and that’s what she did. "I hate when we fight too but it’s just for the plot Haiz, let’s just continue, I’m sure the best part is coming- no pun intended." Hailee snickered at Y/N’s joke while blushing slightly at the images already swimming through her mind in anticipation.

And Y/N was right. A few paragraphs later the two girls, after declaring their love for each other, kissed fervently to let out all their pent up emotions into their kisses.

"Take me to bed." Hailee whispered hotly between their open mouths, eliciting a grunt of acknowledgement from Y/N, who picked her up and took her upstairs, stumbling a bit in her steps when the singer attacked her neck with love bites, that she promptly soothed with her hot tongue. They stopped right beside Hailee’s door when Y/N slammed the brunette on the wall and growled in pure lust after Hailee squeezed her left breast needily.

"Hailee. Do not. Do that. Again." Y/N spoke between each deep breath she took as she panted hotly into Hailee’s mouth, now curled in a sly smirk.

"Why not?"

"Because we won’t reach the bed then." Hailee smirked cheekily at Y/N before swiftly popping Y/N’s blazer’s button open and let her naked chest free, then clasping her breast hard and kneading it fervently with her left hand. "Oh I see." Y/N let out in a grunt after wailing out loud in pleasure, smirking at Hailee in return and without notice slipping her hand under the girl’s dress, moving the girl’s drenched panties to the side and thrusting two fingers in, already setting a quick pace.

"Fuck." Hailee whispered under her breath as she clenched her thighs together to try to subdue her growing arousal, hoping with all herself Y/N didn’t hear her. But Y/N did and that whispered and whimpered word was enough to set her whole body on fire.

"Mh-" Y/N tried to speak, but the lump in her sudden dry throat prevented her to do so, so she just cleared it out and met Hailee’s eyes. She almost regretted her decision when she was met with a pair of dark brown irises staring back at her with pure lust swimming through them. "It- it got interesting, see?"

"Yeah." Hailee let out in a raspy, low tone that went straight between Y/N’s legs, making the girl’s center throb needily. Then they reluctantly detached their eyes away after a few seconds to continue reading.

"Oh Y/N!"

Y/N was over the moon at the lewd moans spilling out of Hailee’s mouth at her ministrations, a clear sign she was doing something good to the singer, so she sped up her tongue’s movements into Hailee’s center to try to push her off the edge as soon as possible, wanting to drink her up like she had been thirsty for years as she savored her amazing taste.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Oh yes! YES!" Hailee came with an high-pitched voice after a particular hard thrust of Y/N’s tongue in her center and slumped back on the bed while Y/N licked her clean.

"Shit." Hailee gripped Y/N’s shirt hard when she felt her center clench over nothing at the words on the phone screen, causing a streak of skin of Y/N’s lower stomach to be exposed. Hailee’s eyes immediately settled on the girl’s bare abdomen before focusing on the top bit of Y/N’s panties on display and licked her lips hungrily, her fingers hitching to just slip down and fuck Y/N.

"Haiz." The singer got pulled away from her hard staring by Y/N calling her, so she reluctantly looked up and into Y/N’s eyes, now noticing the phone screen was black, signaling it was blocked, as it laid loosely into Y/N’s hand. For how long I had been staring at Y/N’s abs?

"Mh?"

"I- you weren’t reading anymore."

"Yeah, I got distracted." Hailee shook her head when her mind screamed at her to just slip her hands into Y/N’s pants every time the girl breathed and her hand got closer and closer to the girl’s panties’ waistband.

"Oh yeah?"

Hailee noticed the slight edge Y/N’s voice had and shivered copiously at the tone, resisting the impending urge to fuck Y/N for a few more seconds just to ask Y/N a question, "yeah. Are you turned on as much as I am?"

"No." Hailee almost sighed dejectedly at that short answer, but Y/N’s voice continuing stopped her before she could do that, "I am so much more turned on." Hailee growled at the admission and joined their lips together in an hungry kiss, not missing a second to slip her tongue past Y/N’s lips and lick inside her mouth hungrily, pulling a needy moan out of Y/N as she pushed more into the kiss. She couldn’t control herself anymore at the wicked idea that appeared in her mind when Y/N bucked her hips involuntarily at the amazing things Hailee’s tongue in her mouth was making her feel, so with a newfound lustful resolution she slipped her hand past Y/N’s pants and panties and caressed the girl’s slits slowly, collecting the copious amount of wetness collected there. "OH SHIT HAILEE!"

"Fuck, your moans are so hot." Hailee murmured while circling the girl’s clit with her fingers before hovering over the girl’s entrance, "can I?"

"Yes, fuck yes!" Y/N moaned loudly when two fingers filled herself deliciously, setting a slow but steady tempo, triggering shivers that run down her spine and converged all between her legs, highlighting her pleasure tenfold. "Oh, you feel so- FUCK."

Hailee smirked triumphantly when her thumb joined her fingers and rolled the girl’s pulsating clit firmly, speeding up her movements when the Y/H/C girl bucked her hips up needily as she chased down her orgasm. The singer leaned down to kiss Y/N hard, their tongues sliding over each other hotly while Hailee’s hand never stopped its unrelenting pace into the girl’s center. "Mh you feel amazing around my fingers babe."

Hailee’s words, her fingers pushing in deeper and her thumb pressing on her clit hard, flipped Y/N off the edge with a long moan of the singer’s name leaving her lips and traveling right into Hailee’s mouth, the sound slipping down her spine and hitting the brunette’s center hard, causing a fresh wave of arousal to spurt out of it. "Holy shit."

"That was so hot Y/N."

"And that was fucking amazing." Y/N rejoined their lips hungrily and growled between kisses as her lust intensified, her powerful orgasm doing nothing to extinguish the burning embers in her stomach. "It’s my tu- OH FUCK."

In her post-coital state Y/N didn’t notice Hailee didn’t slip her fingers out of her so it took her by surprise when the singer started moving her stilled fingers in a quick pace, straddling her right thigh to use her hips to thrust her fingers in deeper. "I’m not done with you yet. I wanna hear you scream." At that Hailee slipped her fingers in harshly, causing her palm to hit Y/N’s clit delightfully, sending the Y/E/C girl into a spiral of pure, raw arousal.

"Hailee!"

The brunette shivered at how easily her fingers slipped in and out of Y/N as obscene moans spilled out of her mouth, making her head spin out of control and making her almost lose focus, but she recovered quickly when Y/N’s left hand gripped her hips hard, making Hailee smirk proudly. She acted on pure lust when she grabbed Y/N’s free hand and pushed it under her top and laid it on her bare breast, moaning lewdly when the Y/E/C girl kneaded it greedily while her hips canted up to meet Hailee’s thrusts needily. "Shit, I’m so wet for you."

"Don’t stop Hailee!"

"I won’t babe." A few moments later Y/N came with a strangled moan as she gripped Hailee’s chest hard while juices spilled out of her center and onto Hailee’s hand, causing Hailee’s chest to fill with pride and lust at the wonderful sensation of making Y/N come. "Shit, you are so hot."

"So are you babe." Y/N replied dreamily as she smiled dumbly up at Hailee before moving her hand gripping Hailee’s boob around and flattening it on her back to pull her down into a languid, sweet kiss. "That was amazing."

"You are amazing." Hailee whispered sweetly on Y/N’s lips meanwhile she slipped her fingers out of Y/N’s center and pants, causing the Y/H/C girl to wail and shiver visibly at the lack of fullness the singer’s hand was providing.

"Not that I am complaining, but- where did that come from?" Hailee readjusted herself so she was laying comfortably on top of Y/N, brushing their noses together cutely when she was sure she wasn’t crashing the Y/H/C girl and pecked her swollen mouth.

"Well, I couldn’t keep reading that fanfiction with you by my side and do nothing." Hailee started with a low tone, while her fingers, now clean, caressed Y/N’s exposed clavicle, right where the collar of her shirt moved down from their activities. "All I wanted to do is just make all my scenarios come true. And I did."

"Really?" Y/N asked in shock from hearing Hailee’s other side of her feelings, seeing a lot of her own struggles into the brunette’s ones.

"Yeah, you don’t even know how many times I got distracted durning our movie marathons with us cuddling and my hand laid on your stomach screaming to just slip into your pants."

Y/N gulped loudly at that piece of information and forced her mind to stay focused instead of thinking about all the times Hailee was caressing her stomach and could’ve just slipped her hand into her and fucked her. "Shit, do not let me get started with how difficult it was for me control myself after reading smut about us. I remember once I almost lost all my willpower when you wore an outfit that I had just read tearing it off of you."

"You could’ve have done it. What outfit are you talking about?"

"Tight-fitting, white shirt and teal trousers. You were just spotted walking around New York City and someone immediately wrote about me pulling off that amazing outfit in my apartment there. A few hours later you were actually in my apartment wearing that wonderful outfit." Y/N trailed of with her explanation and giggled alongside Hailee, their chest filling up with warmth at how comfortable they felt in that moment.

"How about- we go into your bedroom and continue what we started?"

"Oh-" Y/N looked dejected at the singer’s question and Hailee smiled sweetly at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking, "yeah, let me grab my phone and we can continue reading."

"I wasn’t talking about reading." Hailee whispered sultrily on Y/N’s parted mouth, sinking her teeth on a plump bottom lip and reveled in the lewd whine leaving Y/N’s throat.

"Oh."

"I’m not wearing that outfit, but you can tear this one off for now."

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked out of breath as a familiar coiling feeling increased into the Y/H/C girl’s stomach at the promise behind the brunette’s statement.

"Yeah baby. I am so wet for you Y/N, you have no IDEA! OH MY GOD!" Hailee screeched loudly and laughed gleefully when Y/N pulled them up and off the couch and lifted Hailee in her arms, the brunette linking her legs around Y/N’s torso instinctively while the girl sprinted towards her bedroom. "Oh!" Hailee moaned hotly with her head arched back in pleasure when Y/N’s hands grasped her ass and squeezed hard, the arousal pooled between her thighs growing exponentially at the gesture and causing the singer to rub her center desperately on Y/N’s contracted abs in search of some attention.

"Hailee." Y/N stopped on her way towards her bedroom and stared at the brunette hard, "do not do that again." Hailee smirked at the warning tone, also remembering the lines they read in the fic, and repeated her previous movement, moaning out loud purposefully to tease Y/N. "Hailee. I’m serious." But Hailee was having too much fun and was turned on out of her mind to stop now, so she quickened her pace and rubbed her clothed core needily on Y/N’s stomach, the girl moaning under her breath at the singer’s sensual movements.

Hailee went to chuckle amused but a moan got ripped out of her throat when Y/N pushed her down on her feet and immediately slammed her hard on the wall of the living room and kissed her fervently, meanwhile her hands shoved her pants and panties down her legs, the garments pooling around her ankles, and thrusted a finger in without notice. "Oh fuck yes!"

"I told you to stop."

"But I am so wet for you, making you come twice drenched my panties." Hailee whimpered seductively and smirked triumphantly when she noticed Y/N getting affected by her truthful words, only for her grin to drop as her mouth opened in an O shape while a loud moan left her when Y/N pushed two more fingers in and fastened her rhythm. "Yes! Oh fuck yes!"

Y/N merely grunted and thrusted in deeper, her fingers slipping all the way out then slipping in hard, feeling each time the singer’s wall clench around them heavenly. She wanted nothing more but to watch the girl come undone right in front of her. And Hailee did, not to long after, with a strangled moan, her back arching off the wall as juices spurted out of her core. "How are you feeling?"

"Amazing."

"It’s going to get even better in a few seconds." Hailee furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at the girl’s sentence and lifted her head off the wall to stare into Y/N’s eyes and ask her to elaborate, only for it to slam back into the wall harshly when Y/N’s fingers got replaced by her mouth, her tongue licking her release before teasing her entrance with just the tip.

"Holy. Fucking. SHIT!" Hailee’s hands flew into Y/N’s hair when the girl wrapped her lips around her clit and suckled on it harshly and greedily, "oh Y/N, don’t stop."

"Believe me babe, I’m not planning to stop. Not until you come into my mouth." Y/N’s crass words murmured into her center reverberated throughout Hailee’s body and lit it up in a second, causing pure, raw arousal to invade every cell of her body and pushing the loudest moan so far out of her mouth.

Y/N smirked at the reaction she pulled from Hailee and returned her lips on the awaiting clit, paying attention on it a few more minutes before sliding her tongue down Hailee’s entrance and teased it with the tip again in a silent question. When Hailee gripped her scalp harder and pushed her face more into her cunt, Y/N smirked at the wordless answer and eased her tongue in slowly, savoring each passing second as her senses flooded with Hailee’s taste and scent. "Fuck. Fuck Y/N/N. That feels so good." Y/N pushed her tongue out of Hailee’s core and slipped it back in slowly, trying to draw the singer’s pleasure as much as she could before tipping her off the edge. Her movements were precise and attentive, putting more pressure when a particular swipe inside Hailee made her wail out loud, or pushing deeper into her when her walls clenched down on her tongue heavenly. Y/N at some point had to stop Hailee’s hips canting up to cease her pleasure by flushing them on the wall when its movements got sloppy, a clear sign the girl was nearing her release. "Oh. Yes. Shit, right there."

"Are you ready to come for me baby?" Hailee nodded hastily, gulping visibly when the coiling feeling in her belly got ready to snap, "then come for me, I’m ready to drink you up." Hailee tipped over the edge right after, the Y/H/C girl’s name slipping past her open mouth in a lewd moan while her hips got freed from Y/N’s grasp when Y/N let go of them to grip her thighs greedily as she licked her up clean and rotated slowly on Y/N’s face to ride as much as she could her post-coital wave. "Wow, careful babe."

Y/N giggled amused as she wrapped her arms around Hailee’s waist to keep her up when her legs gave out after the girl slid up and lessened her tight grasp on her hips. "It’s your fault."

"I didn’t hear you complain, quite the opposite in fact." Y/N smirked mischievously, causing Hailee to roll her eyes fondly and slap the girl’s left shoulder gently. "Shall we go into my bedroom?"

"Yeah, give me 2 minutes and you’re all mine Y/L/N." Hailee smirked slyly while her hand slipped again into Y/N’s panties, finding a copious amount of wetness waiting for her attention. Y/N merely growled and pushed Hailee’s hand out of her pants, before picking her up again and walking into her bedroom, the singer’s pants and panties long forgotten on the Y/E/C girl’s living room floor. As soon as Hailee’s back hit the mattress Y/N crawled over her and kissed her feverishly, pushing her tongue in to lick every nook and cranny of the brunette’s mouth, Hailee tasting a bit of herself and moaned into the kiss at the realization before pushing Y/N’s hoodie up and off of her and throwing it on the floor, feeling Y/N do the same with her own. "Sit up." Hailee instructed and Y/N obliged right away, causing the brunette’s core to clench over nothing at how quickly Y/N did as she asked without protests or teasing. When the last garment separating themselves got out of the way, both sunk back into the bed, kissing slowly but deeply while their hands explored their naked skin hungrily. Suddenly Y/N found herself on her back when the singer switched their positions and got on top of her. The Y/H/C girl stared transfixed at the ethereal beauty that was Hailee, arching her back to push her hair behind her back and exposing her round, mouthwatering breasts to Y/N. The actress acted on pure instinct when she sat up quickly and engulfed an erected nipple into her mouth, humming in appreciation when Hailee pushed her breasts up and gripped her scalp in pleasure to press her more into her chest. "Oh Y/N."

"I love how you moan my name." Y/N murmured with Hailee’s nipple still in her mouth and smirked slyly when she saw goosebumps appear on Hailee’s skin, pulling away from one breast to focus on the other, biting down gently on the soft flesh before sucking on the skin near Hailee’s nipple to leave a mark. When she pulled away to admire her work, Hailee mimicked her gesture and growled above her when she noticed the hickey on her boob. "This means you’re mine Steinfeld." Y/N joked in a sultry voice, the sound traveling right between Hailee’s legs as her body wrecked with hard shivers at the statement.

"Now it’s my turn to mark you." Hailee grinned seductively at Y/N and moved her right hand from the girl’s scalp down, her fingers grazing her nape, her neck, her clavicle before stopping between the girl’s chest and flattened her palm on her sternum to push the Y/H/C girl gently down on the mattress. "Lay down."

"Remember, not on my neck. We have an interview tomorrow and Lyla will kill me instead of covering it up."

Hailee chuckled under her breath before shaking her head slowly and fixing Y/N with a scorching stare. "Don’t worry, I have the perfect place in mind." The brunette’s tone made Y/N shudder in arousal and anticipation, a promise behind Hailee’s words that only fueled the embers already burning in the pit of her stomach. Hailee started peppering kisses all over Y/N’s torso, purposefully taking her time to tease Y/N a bit, starting with paying close attention to both of Y/N’s full, round and soft but firm breasts, sucking a bit harder on a few spots to make Y/N believe she was ready to mark her like she did not too long ago, but at the last moment she pulled away, then descending on her stomach, letting out her tongue to lick Y/N’s marvelous abs that contracted under her touch and finally stopped at Y/N’s hips, dangerously close Y/N’s center. "Here it is."

"Fuck." Y/N whimpered pitifully when Hailee leaned down and attached her lips right above Y/N’s center, sucking harshly the skin there to make sure to leave a big, visible mark there. The singer smirked on Y/N’s skin when the girl bucked her hips up in pleasure, laying one hand between the girl’s left hip and her thigh to stop her frantic movements, intentionally moving her thumb close to Y/N’s outer lips to tease her even more. "Hailee- oh." Y/N panted out loud, her head moving side to side while the singer kept sucking relentlessly on her skin as her thumb moved closer to her entrance and teased it with moving up and down slowly. "Please baby."

Hailee spent a few more moments there before soothing the stinging with her tongue, laying a soft peck there and pulling away to appreciate her work. "This means you are mine Y/L/N." Hailee repeated the Y/H/C girl’s previous words and looked up and into her eyes with mischief swimming into her brown, almost black, pools, "is it not visible enough right?"

"You’re a dork." Y/N snorted at Hailee’s joke and shook her head in amusement, her chest swelling at the promises behind their banter. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Hailee was taken aback from the question, asked after a few minutes of silence with the two girls basking in the loving bubble they were in as they gazed into each other’s eyes. "I- w- y-yes! Oh my god yes!"

Y/N didn’t have enough time to let a big smile brighten even more her features when a pair of plump, soft lips crashed onto hers, making her head spin out of control for how emotional their kiss was. "Wow, I need a moment to recover from that."

Y/N chuckled under her breath alongside Hailee, but stopped not too long after to stare at the brunette lovingly with a small, warm grin on her mouth as those wonderful sounds still escaped her throat. "What?" Hailee asked when she noticed Y/N didn’t say anything else and kept looking at her deeply, blushing a bit from the intense stare.

"Nothing. You’re just so beautiful."

Hailee’s face became impossibly red at Y/N’s statement, nuzzling her nose on the girl’s cheek to hide her blush away from the Y/H/C girl but smiling brightly nonetheless. "You can’t say things like that out of the blue Y/N/N." Hailee let out in a small, whiny tone, pushing her face more into Y/N’s cheek when she felt the Y/H/C girl giggle at her whines of protest, and shivered wildly when the arm around her shoulders tightened its grip to force their bodies to flush impossibly together.

"Why not?"

"Because it makes me feel so many things at once." Hailee explained in a huff feigning annoyance, but the smile Y/N felt pressed on her cheek’s skin told her the brunette was far from irritated.

"Like what?" Even if Hailee couldn’t see from her point of view Y/N’s face she could detect her smirk in her tone, so she reluctantly pulled herself away from Y/N’s cheek, hoping her blush at least subdued a bit, and stared at her in challenge, indeed finding a big smirk on her lips.

"Like love and affection but also lust and want. Like I want to cuddle you forever but also fuck you hard. Like making love with you but also wanting you to rail me all night. Does it make sense?"

Y/N’s smug face dropped instantly making Hailee gloat at her clever answer. "Y-yeah."

"It was a simple, loving sentence. But you don’t even know how hot you looked when you said it to me." Hailee kept teasing Y/N, basking in the lust flitting over her features as she revealed her deepest thoughts.

"Oh shit- fuck."

"Mh, glad to see you still have a great way with words." Hailee quipped at the short answer Y/N emitted after a long pause of silence, her body boiling over once again as Hailee’s words travelled right between her legs and in her center, fueling her fire still burning within her as she got turned on again in mere seconds.

"Well can you blame me? Your words literally made me almost come undone." Y/N admitted out of breath, leaning over to take the brunette’s bottom lip between her teeth and sank them gently on it teasingly, the moan that excited Hailee’s mouth making Y/N shiver visibly in pure, raw lust.

"Mh- good. ‘Almost’ means I still have the pleasure to make you come on my fingers and mouth." Hailee murmured out in a hummed tone on Y/N’s mouth when she let go of her bottom lip, before slipping her tongue in and kissing her fervently.

"Fuck- only if I can do the same." Y/N countered back hotly, her hand sneaking between their bodies and right between Hailee’s thighs, teasing her already drenched slits with caressing her entrance but not slipping in.

"Oh! Y/N." Hailee panted hotly on the Y/H/C girl’s lips as she mimicked her girlfriend’s movements, settling her hand on her core and drawing idle patterns there without effectively pushing her fingers in.

"Shit- babe."

"Inside, please baby. I want you inside." And almost like an unspoken agreement, they eased their fingers inside the other’s core at the same time, both staring into their eyes as they opened their mouth to let out a soft, long moan of pleasure.

"Shit, you’re so wet for me." Y/N whimpered in shock at the great amount of moisture she found between Hailee’s legs, the statement causing the singer to wail out pitifully and buck her hips down onto Y/N’s fingers to silently ask her to speed up her movements.

"Only for you Y/N/N." They moved rhythmically their hands as they pounded into their centers as deep as they could, the teasing long forgotten as their lust took over and the desire to watch and feel the other come overpowered them. "Oh! Oh! Fuck, do that agAIN!" Hailee wailed loudly when Y/N pushed as deep as her hand could and used her thumb to tap on the singer’s clit in the process, spreading white shocks all over her body at the touch. Y/N’s smug face dropped when the brunette did the same thing on her and moaned into her open mouth as she neared her peak.

"Oh babe. Yes!" The two came with a scream of the other’s name right into their open mouths, them both stilling their hands’ movements a few seconds before slowing their pace and letting them ride their post-coital wave as much as they could while their bodies stiffened as juices spilled out of their cores.

"Fuck, I- need a moment."

"Me too." Y/N chuckled after she took her fingers out of Hailee’s center, the singer mimicking her a second later, causing their whines of protest at the lack of fullness provided by their digits to mix together hotly between their open mouths, before laying down and humming in appreciation when Hailee slumped back on her body and her arms immediately circled her waist to cuddle on the matters.

"You’re so beautiful."

"So are you princess." Y/N watched Hailee visibly shiver at her words and smiled at her warmly, her arms tightening around her waist to push her as much as she could on her body, "who would have thought, a fanfiction about us made us happen."

Hailee chuckled alongside Y/N at the statement, nodding in agreement while butterflies erupted in her stomach at the events that happened between them in the span of a few hours. "You could’ve told me sooner, we could have happened a long time ago."

"Yeah, sure." Y/N snorted at the thought, "it would’ve totally been usual of me saying out of the blue, ‘hey Haiz, I read fanfictions about us fucking in a hot tub or eating each other out in the bathrooms of the MET gala. Wanna go out on a date?"

Hailee erupted in a loud, amused laugh as she leaned her forehead down on Y/N��s chest, the Y/H/C girl getting dizzy from the heavenly sound while letting out a few chuckles herself. "It would have definitely worked."

"Really?"

"Well yeah. We would have gone to our date after fucking countless times in every room of your apartment." Hailee admitted sultrily on Y/N’s lips after lifting her head and gazing at Y/N seductively.

"Shit."

"How about we do just that and then have our date her tonight?" Hailee suggested before leaning over and taking Y/N’s bottom lip between her teeth, sinking them on it gently and pulling on the soft flesh before releasing it and licking her lips provocatively.

"Fuck. Shit. Yes."

"Good." Hailee murmured on Y/N’s mouth before invading it with her tongue and kissing her deeply, triggering a few lewd moans from both of them when she started to rub her hips steadily over Y/N’s ones, creating a delicious friction that drenched their cunts all over again in mere seconds. "But first, I want to read those fics you mentioned. Then I’ll fuck you so good you won’t walk for days."

"Shit." Y/N whimpered under her breath before Hailee’s tongue slipped back into her mouth, her arm desperately searching her phone on her nightstand but whimpering in frustration when she realized it wasn’t there. "Fuck my phone is downstairs."

"Well if I remember correctly, I told you we would’ve fucked in every room of your apartment so-" Hailee sat up on Y/N’s lap and arched her back purposefully to expose her naked chest to Y/N like she did before when they got into Y/N’s bedroom, who eyed her hungrily with hooded eyes and her bottom lip trapped under her teeth, and smirked mischievously down at her, "lead the way baby."

[remuscore]

Slumber Party

Original idea from here

Summary: Janus doesn’t cuddle. Well, maybe a little...

Warnings: None. Maybe some suggestive stuff, but it’s Remus so.

Taglist: @hannahdra-ws @royalty-of-all-things-snuggly

Janus was invited to movie night with the light sides again. He was thrilled of course. The third movie night he’s been invited to with everyone and Thomas. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Remus still wasn’t getting invited.

Janus always missed Remus during these nights. No one made dark jokes, no one picked movies that made Janus jump and grimace, no one wrapped him in their arms around him and kept him comfortably warm against an uncomfortably naked body. 

However, they have tried their best. 

Not naked thankfully, but Patton sure did try bringing him into the big, movie night, cuddle pile they have. Janus just sat by the end of the couch as everyone sat together, even Logan participated in the big cuddle pile by sitting beside Virgil on the end. 

But this time, Janus decided it would be different. He’ll be bringing Remus with. 

When he told his plan to his beloved little monster his plan, he was singing with excitement. Literally. He sang a whole little ditty about how excited he was. 

“Do you think they’ll let me pick the movie? Have they let you pick a movie yet?” Remus stumbled out of his room the night of the event wearing nothing but the boxers he agreed to wear for tonight. Janus waited for him by the stairwell with his own silky pajamas on. 

“Roman wasn’t going to let me pick the movie, but Patton forced him to after he stole my hat when they watched Frozen,” Janus said. He smiled when he saw the large stuffed Cthulhu Remus was currently hugging against his chest. “I’m sure they’ll play your movie if you asked.”

Remus snorted at the mere idea and shoved Janus towards the door. Janus smirked, though he was awfully nervous about bringing Remus along. He didn’t wish for any of the sides to exclude him again or— heaven forbid— distrust him again because he wanted to bring his beloved friend (and family, night he add) along. 

As he and Remus arrived, the mood considerably dampened. Patton even let out a little “oh my goodness” at the sight of the infamous duke. Janus paid no mind to them as he took his usual spot at the end and Remus happily sat at his side. 

They all waited in some… expected silence that both Janus and Remus reveled in. Janus more than Remus, really. As much as Remus loved making them squirm, he wasn’t the biggest fan of silence. 

“Remus…” Patton was the first to say anything. He laughed nervously. “Uh, hi there… sorry I wasn’t aware you were coming—”

“Yeah, why is the skunk head here!?” Roman shouted, a whine carrying in his voice that made Remus giggle.

“Why not!” He retorted. Roman glared at him and pointed to all of him.

“And not respecting our rules!”

“Or himself.” Virgil muttered. Janus rolled his eyes. They’ve all seen Remus naked before, it wasn’t like there was anything new beside a few scars.

“And where in the name Poseidon, did he get that /adorable/ plushie of the Gods!?” Remus hugged his Cthulhu tighter at the mention of him. 

“I got that for him,” Janus said, pointedly ignoring Roman’s original question. He challenged him to say otherwise with a look. Judging by Roman’s sputtering and pouting, he had won. “What are we watching tonight, hm?”

“Well, we were just about to vote—”

“Cinderella! Cinderella!” Remus shouted, practically vibrating in his seat and startling Logan into shutting up and moving closer to Patton. Remus didn’t seem to care though. “I want to watch Cinderella! Please, please, please!”

“Cinderella?” Patton and Roman sounded surprised by the plea, pleasantly and utterly confused respectfully. 

“It’s his favorite.” Virgil sighed, rubbing his forehead. Remus has bugged them all about why Cinderella is his favorite many times before. 

“Especially the live action one.” Janus added, watching with guarded fondness as Remus bounced and clapped his hands, nodding enthusiastically with excitement. 

“Well… that sounds like a perfectly… reasonable movie to watch?” Patton ended his sentence like a question, looking at the others around him for any reason not to do it. Roman still shook his head and frowned deeply. He pointed at Remus again.

“I don’t trust his excitement,” he announced. “He’s going to try and ruin this movie for us, I know it.”

“Please, Roman, when has Remus ever ruined anything?” Janus says as innocently as he could, bringing a wine glass that he had just summoned up to his lips. 

“Oh, oh!” Remus wiggles in his seat, excitedly slapping Janus’ knee. “What about that time I ruined Christmas for—”

“Let’s start the movie, shall we?” Janus interrupted Remus quickly. He cleared his throat and waved for the tv to turn on to the movie they had all— in theory— agreed upon. Remus was quickly distracted with a squeal as the classic Disney theme started playing. 

They’ve all settled now that the movie started. There was the added unease as they continued to glance apprehensively in their direction. Janus continued to sip on his wine as Remus’ eyes stayed intently on the screen. 

“So— if I may ask—” Logan started, keeping his eyes on the screen as well as everyone else as he talked. “Why is this your favorite movie, Remus? It seems uncharacteristic.”

“Cinderella is about being hated by her only family left and unable to leave her confinement, forced to act a certain way because of her step-mother’s favoritism,” Remus explained without a thought on if his honesty would make the others uncomfortable, and it certainly did. “Also in the original story, birds scratch out the step-families eyes as karma for being so cruel and I always thought that was neat.”

They all shuffled farther away.

As the movie continued and Janus got steadily tipsier, they’ve started to relax and enjoy the movie. Remus and Janus have started to lean against each other, Remus’ chin on his shoulder and Janus’ head against his. It was always better to drink a little when watching a movie with Remus, makes all the shouting in his ear easier to deal with and all his jokes and facts a little funnier. However, because of the wine, his guard was down around the others and he actually moved to sit on Remus’ lap without thinking about his image, settling Cthulhu in his own lap while Remus wrapped his arms around him. 

He didn’t even remember they were still there until Patton had spoken up about it. 

“I figured you didn’t like hugs, Janus?” He said, startling Janus out of his relaxed state. He tried putting his guard up again, but it was hard when he was a little drunk and also Remus was so warm and comfortable. 

“Doesn’t like hugs? Ha!” Remus let out a loud, incredibly false laugh that made Janus smile and duck his head at the sound. “DJ Anus here loves hugs! Especially when he’s hammered! He’s extra affectionate when drunk, huh sexy?”

Remus squeezes him closer as he teases him and Janus rolls his eyes. He couldn’t help his smile though as he leaned into the touch. He holds up his glass. 

“I’m not hammered, as you say,” he turned his head to look at Remus, nose brushing against his cheek. “I’m… just a little buzzed. Totally different.”

Remus giggled and rocked them back, pulled Janus completely on his lap. Janus looked like a little child as Remus curled around him like a protective shield, Cthulhu abandoned beside them. 

“This is weird…” Virgil muttered, looking mildly uncomfortable with the public affection. “I don’t remember you two being so… close.”

“You never came to our movie nights.”

“Because you made us watch The Purge and then terrorized us for months about it after.”

“Eh, that movie was shit anyways,” Janus waved him off, eyes back on the movie. Cinderella had just found out about the ball. It was only a matter of time before Remus noticed and made any jokes about it, Janus needed to focus on not snorting at any of them to make sure he still had some dignity left after tonight. “Seriously, there are millions of things you can do during these crime free days instead of wearing a mask and murdering innocents.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Remus said. Virgil made a face. 

“I’m still reeling at the fact that anyone would willingly be that close to Remus,” Roman’s expression was sour as he watched them spoon out of the corner of his eye. “Are you not worried he might get too excited like this?”

“Oh, it’s happened before, but it’s nothing to worry about,” Janus clarifies, though he did feel a sting of annoyance at Roman’s disapproval. “And for your information, Remus is a fantastic cuddler. He only smells a little putrid and you get used to it.” 

Remus giggles and hugs Janus tighter for a moment, the deceitful side practically drowning in his arms. He let out an excited shout and pointed wildly at the screen, leaning over Janus. 

“Oh! Oh! This is my favorite scene!” He shouted, referring to Cinderella being trapped in her attic and the added backstory to the step-mother. 

With the distraction in place, they all settled in and watched the end of the movie. Janus thought this night was rather successful. He might think differently tomorrow when he wasn’t drunk, but he did get to spend at least one of these movie nights safe and warm in his favorite side’s arms.

[that-random-one]

I'm Lost... Again

Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Reader has a terrible sense of direction

Date Posted: 2/22/21

A/N: When I was writing this I didn't know where it was going with it. I meant for this to be angst or something because I was feeling angsty and then I ended up with this. I also meant for this to be shorter, but my fingers said no. I have no fucking idea how to write proposals either so that part ended up shitty and too cheesy for my taste, but my brain said no to different ideas so it's staying there.

It was your and Shouto's anniversary. It has been 4 years since you started dating and it's been a little over 5 years when the both of you met.

You met at the Hero Gala when your mentor, Hawks, introduced you to him. He was a sidekick of Endeavor's at the time. You were only 19 years old when you were introduced, roughly half a year out of Shiketsu High. Shouto, being a year older than you, was 20 when you met. You frequently saw him on the news and always thought that his quirk was cool.

After the Hero Gala, you ended up seeing more of him for some reason. Hawks and Endeavor worked together often, so you constantly saw him on missions. Sometimes your patrol routes would cross each other too. Occasionally, you trained together when either Hawks or Endeavor had to talk to each other for something and had to go to the other's agency. Somehow one of you was dragged along or willingly went. Either way, you ended up seeing each other and decided to train together to pass time.

About a year of this went on and you both grew undeniably closer to each other. Eventually, Shouto asked you out while you were training together. You were surprised and ended up getting frozen by Shouto's quirk. After he defrosted you, you said yes.

Throughout your 4 years together you told each other an unmeasurable amount of I love you's, moved in together, and have had plenty of interrupted dates because of the duties of being pro heroes.

You also can't forget the many fights you've had with each other. They reach from play fights about your terrible sense of direction or Shouto's terrible theories to small fights that could be easily fixed with an 'I'm sorry' and an 'I love you', or to that single big fight you've had where you almost left him. Shouto quickly chased after you when you slammed the front door closed with tears streaming down your face. That fight took a bit more to fix than an 'I'm sorry' and an 'I love you.

Throughout your entire relationship, Shouto never regretted chasing you when you left through that door. He has never regretted being with you. He never thought that it was possible to love someone this much. That's why he planned something special for your 4th anniversary.

Shouto asked Midoriya and Uraraka for help setting everything up. Uraraka was a big help with making sure everything looked perfect. She was also a good second opinion on confirming if you were to like something or not.

It's not that Shouto didn't know if you liked something or not, he just wanted everything to be perfect for you. Asking the female that just so happens to be your best friend seemed like a favorable person to ask for a second opinion.

With the help from the other two everything was ready before he knew it.

"Wow. It looks so beautiful." Uraraka took in the sight that they all put hard work into.

"It does. I bet Y/n is going to love it!" Midoriya enthusiastically said with a big smile on his face, clearly proud of what he helped do.

"Yeah, I think they will." A small smile taking place on Shouto's face. His stomach filled with butterflies, anxious for your reaction even though he's sure you'll love it.

~~~~~~~

You were supposed to meet Shouto two hours ago for the night he had planned. You ended up getting lost though. You were currently driving on a road that you have no idea where it leads.

You have no idea how you got here. Shouto gave you the address that you were supposed to meet at. You put the address into the GPS, doubled no, tripled checked that it was correct, and began driving.

You ended up taking a left instead of a right, then a right instead of a left. You took a bunch of more wrong turns and the poor GPS couldn't keep up with your constant turning and froze.

You pulled over and put your head on the steering wheel for a while. When you had enough self-pity you sat up straight again and looked at the time. Shit. An hour and a half have passed. You were late. Very late.

"I swear I wasn't driving around that long. Shouto's gonna kill me." You muttered to yourself and put your head on the steering wheel again. "Okay. I'll just retrace my steps- turns? Whatever. I'll make my way back home then retry and not get lost again. Yeah, a great idea."

You looked to make sure no one was coming in either direction. When it was clear you made a U-turn.

"Ok, so I turned left to get on this street. That means I need to turn right. Wait, fuck which way is left and right." You quickly held up your fingers to make L's. "Nope, that's wrong. I need to turn left."

You kept on driving straight, looking for a road on the left. One problem, there were so many left turns and you didn't know which one you came out of.

"Shit. Going left brings me closer either way right?" You turned left on a road you randomly picked. "Ok, I went another left next, right? Fuck I can't remember. I should have stayed where I was."

You take another left hoping that you would see something familiar. Your hopes soon got crushed. You looked at the time. It's been another half hour.

"Fuck."

~~~Meanwhile~~~

Shouto was sitting at a nearby bench to where you were supposed to meet, his leg bouncing up and down at a concerning speed. He knew you had the day off. He knew you would finish everything you needed to do today hours before the arranged time. So where were you?

A lump caught in his throat as his mind wandered. Did you stand him up? Were you done with him? Did you not love him anymore?

He shook his head as if to rid himself from those thoughts. No, Y/n isn't like that. They wouldn't do that…, right? He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the ground. You idiot. This is Y/n we're talking about here.

Even though he kept trying to reassure himself, that you weren't standing him up, that you still loved him. He couldn't stop the burning he was feeling behind his eyes. All of his insecurities reaching the surface.

He looked back up, taking in the view in front of him. He was sitting on a cliff that overlooked the water, a beach to the right of it. All of the surrounding trees had fairy lights around them, multiple strings of lights connecting each tree.

The sun had long past set. A sunset you were supposed to watch together while you had dinner and talked of everything and nothing. Just enjoying each other's presence since your jobs have been more demanding than usual and you've barely had any time together lately. The moon was shining on the water, making it glitter. The only light around was coming from the fairy lights.

He stood up from his seat on the bench and lifted his arms above his head, stretching. He walked to the edge of the cliff and stood at the edge. He gazed at the sight and took in a deep breath, the wind ruffling his red and white hair. The air was much fresher here than in the city.

He then felt his phone buzz in his pocket, disrupting the peaceful silence. Someone was calling him, but he didn't feel like picking it up. He let the call go to voicemail.

It started to buzz again, signaling another call. He sighed out of annoyance, what the hell was so important that they couldn't leave a voicemail or text. It was his day off anyway, it's his time to relax. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at who was calling.

It was you. A picture he took of you laughing when the both of you went to a cafe for a date. When you saw it you scrunched your nose up in disgust, but let him keep it since he said it made him happy to see you laughing.

Before he could answer the phone and demand answers to where you are and what's so important that you stood him up, the call went to voicemail. He unlocked his phone and went to his contacts. He found your contact and just as he was about to hit the call button you called him first. He quickly picked up and instantly started talking, not allowing you to say anything.

"Where the hell are you? What's so important that you had to stand me up? Are you…" He paused, a lump in his throat but forced the words out. "Are you with someone?"

~~~7 minutes earlier~~~

"I have no idea where I am. I'm completely fucking lost. I am now hitting the 3-hour mark of being late." You laughed out. Half of you were surprised because you didn't expect to get this lost. The other half of you honestly expected this considering your terrible sense of direction that no GPS could help you with.

You give up, screw your pride. You need fucking help finding your way to where Shouto is, or your home at least. You pulled over and turned off the ignition.

You grabbed your phone out of your pocket and turned it on. You were immediately greeted with a picture of you and your friends. You smiled at the memory of going to the park and goofing off with all of them.

You unlocked your phone and saw the picture you took of Shouto when he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful and cute that you couldn't help it.

You went to your contacts and found Shouto's contact. You clicked the call button and held the phone up to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up. After what seemed like forever the call went to his voicemail. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You called again only to end up with the same result. You decided that the third time's the charm and if he didn't pick up you would call someone else for help. You clicked the call button and held the phone up to your ear one more time.

Almost immediately Shouto picked up. You were about to greet him when you were attacked with questions. "Where are you? What's so important that you had to stand me up? Are you…" He paused, you could tell from his voice that he was upset. You waited for him to finish his last question. A sudden feeling of dread filled you. Nothing could prevent the shock you felt with his next question and how soft and hurt his voice sounded whispering it. "Are you with someone else?"

"What?" That is all you could manage out due to your shock.

"Are you with someone else?" His voice was louder but just as hurt.

"No! No, Shouto why would you ever think that?" You heard him let out a breath of air out of relief.

"I'm sorry. It's just that it's been 3 hours since you were supposed to be here. I assumed the worst and forgot it was you. You would never do that." You let out a small chuckle. "Um… where are you anyway?"

"Oh. Um…" You cleared your throat as you felt your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. "I don't know."

This utterly confused Shouto. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I may be lost. Again."

Shouto laughed, feeling like an idiot about forgetting your awful sense of direction, and assumed everything but that. He started walking towards his car. "What street are you on? I'll come to find you."

"Uhh… I'm on Willow and 3rd." You took another look at the signs in front of you to make sure you read them correctly.

~~~~~~~

"Wow. It's beautiful." You took in the view in front of you. You walked to the edge of the cliff, taking in all of your surroundings.

"I had help from Midoriya and Uraraka." Shouto felt around in his pocket for the small black velvet box he had in it. When he found it he pulled it out and opened it, the piece of jewelry shining in the moonlight. He got down on one knee. His heart was beating so fast, it was like it was determined to burst right out of Shouto's chest.

"We'll have to thank them later. The air is so fresh here. It's nice." You turned around and your breath hitched in your throat.

"Y/n, I love you so much that the word can't come close to how I feel. I love you so much that it hurts." You felt tears well up in your eyes and your heart start to beat faster. " I want to have to find you whenever you get lost forever. I want to have our movie nights and cooking together forever. I want to fall asleep in each other's arms forever. I want to wake up to your beautiful face forever. I want memories of you, of us, forever. Y/n, I want you forever. Will you marry me?"

A few tears escaped your eyes. "You just need the unicorn and 6 years old me would be shrieking yes." That did not help Shouto's nerves. Was that a yes or a no? Shouto's expression must have shown his confusion because you were giggling. "It's a yes, Shouto."

Shouto took the ring out of the box and took your left hand. He slid it onto your ring finger, letting go of your hand as stood up. He then placed a hand on the back of your neck and gently slotted his lips against yours. You kissed him back until you both ran out of air.

"I love you."

"I want my unicorn before I tell you those words again." You teased him.

"Unicorns don't exist though." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to how he could get a unicorn.

You giggled, "I love you too, Todoroki Shouto."

[beccascribbles]

1am wake up call - t.oikawa, h.iwaizumi, t.kageyama, w.ushijima

in which y/n gets woken up at night

warnings - references to sex, some swearing

word count - 1.9k

being woken up by pebbles hitting your window was not how you expected to be woken up

you didn’t expect your phone to be incessantly buzzing either but that was your boyfriend for you

you peeked your head out of the window to be greeted by his smiling face

he did look adorable in his sweatpants and alien sweatshirt but you weren’t inclined to tell him that

he waved his phone at you, an indication for you to check his messages

‘we’re going stargazing’ ‘the sky looks really clear tonight’ ‘you’ll love it. i promise’

with a sigh and a slight smile at how cute he was being today, you shuffled around your room, grabbing some sweatpants from the floor and the hoodie tooru had left at yours earlier that same day

quietly you slipped out of the front door so as to not wake your parents (they would not be pleased to learn you were sneaking out to be with your boyfriend)

giggling, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards his car

it was clear he was giddy with excitement... and that he had planned this specific trip as a little picnic basket and a few blankets decorated the backseat

it wasn’t unusual to be awoken by your boyfriend, what was unusual was the amount of effort that had gone into it

usually he just snuck into your room and you cuddled up in bed together or watched some videos (mainly youtube, namely conspiracy theory videos)

he parked and grabbed everything from the car, you grabbing a few of the blankets

he then grabbed your hand and lead you into this field where, he claimed, you would be most likely to see the stars

without warning, he placed the basket on the floor and spread the blanket out alongside it. he spread the contents of the basket onto the blanket, revealing some of your favourite foods

then, he pulled you down beside him, wrapping an arm around you as you lay down together, your head resting against his shoulder as you stared up at the sky

he was right, it was exceptionally clear tonight, the stars appearing as brighter than usual

excitedly, he pointed out constellations. he cheeks were flushed and he was pointing enthusiastically, tracing the shapes to help you make them out clearer

truth be told, you were too focused on him, on the way his face had relaxed, as if all his worries and fears had left him momentarily

“are you even looking at them, y/n-chan?”

blushing lightly, you shook your head, letting out an embarrassed chuckle

“sorry, tooru. you were just too cute that i couldn’t help but stare at you.”

his kissed your lips gently, sweetly

“i get distracted by you too.”

“where are you taking me at 1am, haji? i was enjoying my sleep before you woke me up. by the way, you didn’t have to climb through my bedroom window. i’m not sleeping beauty.”

he couldn’t help but chuckle at your words, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as he drove

you weren’t angry, he could tell by the teasing grin on your face as you looked at him and the way your fingers entangled with the hand he currently had on your thigh

“that, my love, is a surprise.”

you pouted in response, which was no big shock. you weren’t a big fan of being out of the loop, even if it was a surprise

“but that’s hardly fair. i didn’t have to leave the comfort of my bed, but here i am.”

“good things come to those who wait.”

you left out a little huff that made him chuckle. he found it quite endearing, that little puff of air you would release to convey your frustration and annoyance

it wasn’t long before he pulled the car to a stop, turning to you with a grin. “we’re here.”

the here happened to be an empty parking lot, though it was clear there was something hidden within the trees to the north

“if you wanted to tick having sex in the car of your sexual bucket list, you could have just told me instead of dragging me out here”

iwaizumi blushed at your words, giving you a playful glare. “that wasn’t the plan but if you really want to...”

he moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. the kiss was over way too quickly for your taste and you gripped his shirt, pulling him back in. before your lips could meet his, he stopped you, his breath fanning your face

“i think we should get back to the task at hand.”

he smirked, pulling back and unlocking the car door, walking around to the boot to pull out some towels

he wrapped an arm around your waist as he lead you into the trees

the sound of rushing water met your ears and you turned to him with a wide grin

swimming at night had always been something you were intrigued to do

together, you stripped, folding your discarded clothes and placing them on a rock that was a good distance away from the splash zone

you let an appreciative whistle as you eyed your boyfriend. you would have to thank volleyball for his body. unable to resist, you gave his ass a light tap as you walked past, jumping into the cool water before he could react

“holy shit! it’s really fucking cold” you gasped. iwaizumi laughed at your reaction

“maybe i’ll just stay up here then.”

“while i am enjoying the view, you better get in, you dick. it was your idea.”

with a shrug, he stepped back a few steps before sprinting forward, cannonballing into the water with a loud splash, causing a rush of water to hit you in the face

“you arsehole!” you yelled, sending an arc of water towards him

needless to say, the once peaceful natural pool was now the host of a water fight of epic proportions

kageyama was probably the last person you expected to be calling you at 1am, not that you were complaining when his face, eyes blurred with sleep popped up on your phone screen

“hi, tobio. are you okay? you look tired. why aren’t you asleep?”

“i could ask you the same thing y/n. can you open the door?”

it was only then that you realised that his background wasn’t that of his bedroom but the porch outside your house

“sure.”

you got out of bed, pulling a sweater over your pyjamas, figuring a tank top and sleep shorts wasn’t the most appropriate attire for being outside

as quietly as you could, you left your room, creeping down the stairs and retrieving the key with as little noise as possible

when you opened the door, you saw the figure of your boyfriend sat on the step, his dark hair messy

shutting the door silently behind you, you tiptoed forward, wrapping your arms around him and resting your chin on his shoulder. he tensed before relaxing into your familiar touch

kageyama wanted to touch you. to hold you. he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes, his dark blue ones shining with vulnerability

“can i hold you?”

wordlessly, you detached yourself from him, moving around so you were stood in front of him. his hands came to rest at the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck

he pulled you down so you were straddling him, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he buried his face into the crook of your neck

no words were needed. they were unnecessary. your touch bought him all the comfort he needed

“do you want to come inside?” you questioned, pulling away slightly to brush his fringe away from his face and place a kiss on his forehead

he nodded as you pulled away from him. you held out a hand, waiting for him to entangle his fingers with yours

you lead him into your house and up to your room, where you pulled him over to your bed

you crawled under the covers and looked over at him. he stood awkwardly beside the bed, unsure of whether to join you or not

sitting up slightly, you took his hands in your grip and pulled him down beside you

once he was actually under the covers, he relaxed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against him

he pressed a kiss to your exposed neck, murmuring an ‘i love you’ against your skin

he wanted to do something special for you, not because it was your birthday but because he wanted to show you how much he appreciated your support

he had said as much to tendou, who had told him that girls appreciated surprises and then had went on to show him multiple videos of girls crying due to a grand gesture from their boyfriend

he didn’t understand how a bouquet of roses had caused someone to burst into tears but he was willing to try some of the ideas, particularly when he had seen how happy they had made those in the videos

why he had decided to wake you up at 1am for said surprise was mainly tendou’s idea

in his words, ‘the cover of darkness makes everything romantic’

what ushijima wasn’t prepared for was how much of a heavy sleeper you were. he had tried calling you, thrown a few pebbles at your bedroom window like he’d seen in the movies. no luck

but, he did know where you kept the spare key. he debated whether it was appropriate to enter your house uninvited, particularly when his presence was unknown

however, it was supposed to be a surprise so the unexpected route was probably best (another tip that tendou had shared with him)

he made his way up to your room, careful to avoid making any noise as he did not want to wake the other inhabitants

he pushed your door open, placing some of the items he was holding on the floor while keeping one concealed behind his back, a bouquet of your favourite flowers

he lent over you, shaking your shoulder with his free hand

the unexpected contact made you leap up, grabbing blindly for a weapon of some sort only to stop short when you recognised your boyfriend’s face

“what the fuck, toshi!” you whisper-yelled, the anger evident in your expression

“i brought you flowers.”

he pulled the flowers out from behind his back, holding them out for you to take

confused, you took them from him

“i also bought some food. i made it myself so you should like it. i’ve also got my laptop so we can watch some netflix. i know you like that.”

“i appreciate it toshi but why are you here at 1am? could this not have waited until morning?”

“tendou said girls like surprises and i thought it was a good way of showing you how much you mean to me.”

you looked at him blankly. this man. with a sigh and a soft smile, you sat up in behind, moving over to give him some space to join you

“why don’t you grab that stuff by the door and we can eat the food you made while watching a movie like you planned?”

he nodded, pulling the cupcakes and his laptop from his bag before joining you on the bed

you leaned against him as the movie began to play, taking a large bite from the cupcake you had just picked up

“wow! this is delicious. when did you learn how to bake!?”

[shadowhuntertrash]

High Notes

Chapter Nine

I dont own the character they belong to Cassandra Clare

There was a lot of buzz before the concert and Thomas couldn’t help but feel the excitement that was radiating from everyone. They were supposed to start the concert in about an hour and a half, they had split the concert evenly between the three bands, making sure that it was truly a shared concert and not one of them being the opening act. 

   The Merry Thieves were playing first tonight, then Beautiful Cordelia, and lastly Alastair. He hadn’t seen Alastair or the girls but he was currently sitting in a room with Matthew, Christopher, and James.

   They had a tradition from when they started as YouTubers with ten followers, to always have the same face paint in every video, they all had meanings behind them that the fans didn’t know about, though most of them had come up with theories as they became more popular.

   Matthew always had a glass of spilled wine that covered his eye and fell down his face in a way that looked like blood. He had a problem with underage drinking since he was about thirteen. His parents weren’t really around and he didn’t have a good reason to stop, his friends had always tried to talk him out of it but it had never worked. The only reason he stopped was after a talk with Will, James’ father. No one knew what Will had said, neither of them would talk about it, but since that day Matthew hadn’t touched alcohol, and Will all but adopted Matthew after the conversation.

  Christopher had a broken beaker with bubbling green liquid fizzing over, a testament to his love of chemistry and science. Christopher had always loved science but often blew things up, it wasn’t because he was bad he was actually very smart but he was ahead of his time more often than not. A lot of the kids at school would bully him for it, lock him in the back lockers, tear pages out of his books, mess his experiments up on purpose. It had gotten bad for a while and Christopher had given up science for about two months before Anna had managed to pull him out of his slump. He had chosen the beaker as a way to say he was proud of what set him apart and he wouldn’t allow people to put him down for that anymore.

  James had black wings that went sideways over one cheek and ended on the opposite side of his face, black feathers burnt on the edges and some on fire littered his other cheek. He wore it as a symbol of growing up in the shadows of his parents. He had always been the black sheep of his family, though he certainly acted like his parents at times. He also wore it as a proud sign of depression, a battle he had fought for a long time. He would have days where he was so out of it he hardly recognized anyone and it was like he was being dragged down. Eventually, his friends had pulled him out of it, mostly Matthew and Lucie, and he found his footing again. That was when they had started the band.

   Thomas had a large compass on the side of his cheek, the hands were vines and a red rose was blooming in the middle of it. It was a symbol for when he lost his way and started getting into trouble. Thomas was a good person at heart but sometimes people come into your life and knock you off track. He had gone to Paris one year and had gotten into a lot of trouble, it had been worse because he didn’t know how to tell his parents so instead he just didn’t come back. After he missed coming home and refused to answer anyone, Barbara found him, when he questioned how she had just glared and said that she had her ‘ways.’ She talked some sense into him and he went back, it taught him that there were always people there, and he should never be afraid to go home. The compass he had chosen to say that he had found his way, the arrow pointing north to his home.

   The boys had decided that they would go talk to fans before the concert, there were always fans that got there early and stood outside the doors. Thomas followed Christopher, James was on Matthew’s back, laughing loudly as Matthew took off down the hallway. Christopher turned to him with wide excited eyes and Thomas rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

   “Wait come back.” Thomas called down the hallway, squatting so Christopher could jump on his back. Matthew spun around and jogged back to where Thomas stood, straightening up. Christopher was relatively small so it didn’t take much strength to carry him.

   “Race!” James shouted excitedly, Matthew wooted and stood next to Thomas who was laughing. Matthew raised an eyebrow at Thomas, a joyful grin on his face. “You’re going down Lightwood!” Thomas rammed his shoulder into Matthew who stumbled a little, Thomas lagged and Matthew stuck his tongue out. “No cheating!” James said from Matthew’s back, he was grinning lazily at Thomas, a relaxed expression that was very seldom on his face.

   Thomas looked forward. “You’re on.” Christopher laughed and started counting down slowly. “Three, Two, One!” Thomas and Matthew took off. Thomas stumbled for a second, not used to the wait and Matthew took it as a chance to get ahead of them. Thomas took off after him, Christopher laughing and clinging to Thomas for dear life. 

   Thomas pulled to the lead, the advantage of having long legs. Thomas looked behind him to Matthew who was cursing and speeding up, Thomas laughed and looked back in front of him just in time to turn around a corner and run straight into someone. 

   He fell backward, Christopher shrieking as he went down with him. Thomas turned mid-fall, trying to avoid landing on Christopher. He landed with a large thump and heard Matthew and James laughing hysterically at them. Normally Thomas would have laughed too but he was too busy trying to get air back into his lungs, all of it having been expelled when he landed squarely on his back.

   He turned to look at Christopher to make sure he was okay, he heard him laughing and laid back down. Christopher got up and started talking to the person they had run into, Thomas just stayed on the ground willing the air to come back to his lungs. After a second Matthew and Alastair were standing over him. 

   Matthew was still laughing but Alastair looked rather concerned. Thomas sat up slowly coughing and thanking god he could breathe now. “Are you alright? I would say sorry but I rather fancy that was your fault.” Thomas laughed and Alastair laughed with him. 

   Thomas was well aware of how red his face was, last he had seen Alastair he was being asked out and left standing there like a fish, opening and closing his mouth dumbly, now he was sat on the ground having run Alastair over in a stupid race.

   “This is so embarrassing.” Thomas groaned, his hand rubbing the back of his head where he had hit it on the concrete floor. Alastair laughed and shook his head, his hand coming down to help Thomas up. 

   “Where were you going so fast anyway?” At this Thomas forgot his embarrassment and turned to look at Matthew who still had James on his back. “This does not mean you win!” Thomas said, pointing his finger at Matthew. “I fell, that does not mean you win. It doesn’t count as a forfeit or whatever thing you were going to say.” Matthew stuck out his lips in a pout. “But Thomas.” He said in a whiny voice, Alastair was watching the exchange with amused eyes and Thomas shook his head firmly.

   “Sorry no I win, isn’t that right Alastair.” He said turning to Alastair, faking confidence to shake off the lasting effects of his earlier embarrassment. Alastair nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, very much so.” Matthew groaned. “That’s not fair, you can’t ask your boyfriend! He’s biased!” Thomas blushed again, his embarrassment renewed, as Alastair laughed. “Not yet. Where are you going?” Alastair asked Matthew, nonchalance rolling off him in waves. Thomas wondered if Alastair was aware he had just given him a heart attack. 

   James turned his attention to Thomas, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Not yet?” He mouthed, amusement dancing in his eyes. Thomas just glared in response.

   “We’re going to see the fans before the concert.” Matthew said, dropping James back on his feet. Alastair’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s my favorite part! Can I come?” He asked, the question was directed at Thomas but Christopher beat him to it. “More the merrier.” He said, quite literally skipping down the hall towards the big double doors that led outside. 

   Matthew and James started walking, Matthew gave Thomas a pointed look before grabbing James’ hand and pulling him faster so they were a few paces ahead of Alastair and Thomas. Thomas could feel his palms sweating and took a deep breath before looking at Alastair with a smile on his face.

  “You know, you never actually heard if I agreed to go out with you.” Alastair tilted his head, a playful smile resting on his lips. He stopped walking and winked at Thomas. “Oh my dearest Thomas Fabian Lightwood, would you do me the greatest honor of going on a date with me.” Thomas laughed loudly, something told him that he should be embarrassed but the scene in front of him was too funny.

   “That is most certainly not my middle name but I think I will.” Thomas said through his laughter, Alastair beamed at him and continued walking to the door considerably closer to Thomas now.

   They were greeted by about a hundred screaming fans as they walked out. Thomas turned to Alastair with a disbelieving smile and he just clapped a hand on Thomas’s shoulder with a laugh, something that could be passed off as friendly Thomas noted gratefully. 

   Alastair turned and went to talk to a girl who looked to be about eighteen with an “I <3 Alastair” poster. Thomas smiled at the way Alastair’s face was lit up, completely comfortable in this environment. 

   “Thomas! Thomas!” He turned to look at who was screaming his name and saw a woman who was holding hands with a girl who looked to be about five years old. He walked over with a smile and crouched down so he could be more level with the girl. “And what is your name?” He asked with a kind smile, the girl was buzzing with excitement. “I’m Talia!” She said, a large slightly toothless smile plastered on her face. “It’s my birthday.” She said quietly watching him with wide eyes as if the excitement were wearing off and she was getting shy.

   He laughed and flashed her a large smile. “I have a question, it’s important so don’t just say something to please me alright?” She nodded enthusiastically and Thomas laughed making eye contact with her mother who was watching the interaction with a fond smile. “Alright, do you like Alastair or The Merry Thieves better?” He asked and watched her face scrunch up in thought.

   “I love you but I love Alastair a lot.” She said, her face distressed as if she genuinely couldn’t decide. Thomas laughed and nodded. “I will be right back, okay?” He said winking at her, she nodded furiously and he smiled turning away.

   Thomas walked up to Alastair and said hello to the boy he was talking to. “Do you mind if I steal him for just a second?” Thomas asked the boy who looked disappointed but nodded anyway, a starstruck look on his face.

   Thomas pulled Alastair gently by the elbow over to the Talia whose eyes had gone triple the normal size. “Oh.” She said quietly as Thomas crouched back down in front of her, Alastair followed his lead shooting a look at Thomas silently asking him to explain. Thomas turned to Alastair with a warm smile, “Well, it’s Talia’s birthday today and she loves you more than me.” He let out an exaggerated sigh and Talia started protesting immediately.

   Thomas laughed loudly and patted her head. “It’s alright I’m quite fond of him too.” He said, throwing a secretive smile at Alastair who was watching him fondly. “So Talia, I was thinking we could sing you happy birthday?” Talia squealed loudly and then tried to play it off by clearing her throat, Thomas laughed and ruffled her hair.

   Talia’s mom grabbed her phone quickly and started recording while Thomas looked at Alastair before nodding and they started. As they sang the people around them sang along and before they reached the second line the rest of the Merry Thieves and the crowd were singing along. There were tons of cameras on them and Thomas couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up when it suddenly got really quiet when they sang Talia’s name due to only a few people having heard it.

   When they were done Alastair smiled widely at her. “How old are you Talia?” She beamed at him. “I’m six.” Thomas smiled, he hadn’t been far off. Alastair smiled at her as he stood up. “Well happy birthday sweetie, I hope you enjoy the concert.” Alastair gave Thomas a look and without question, Thomas took over talking to her as Alastair leaned over to whisper something in Talia’s mother’s ear.

   “What do you want for your birthday?” He asked secretively, Talia just watched him with wide eyes. “To meet you.” She said simply, a shy smile resting on her face. Thomas felt warmth blossom in his chest and reached over to hug her gently. “I’m very glad I got to meet you today Talia.” She giggled and held on to him while he rubbed her back.

   Alastair crouched next to them with an excited smile. “Talia, since it’s your birthday and you decided to come and spend it with us, would you like to see us again after the concert? We can hang out a bit?” Talia was silent for a minute staring at Alastair as if he had just offered her the moon, she turned to her mom with her mouth open and she laughed. “I’m fine with it Talie.” She said, running a hand through her daughter's hair. 

   Talia squealed and launched herself into Alastair’s arms nodding. Alastair laughed as he landed on the ground, the force of Talia flinging herself on him knocking him off balance.

   They hugged her one more time and gave her backstage passes for after the concert before heading off to say hello to more people before they had to go back

   Thomas greeted about ten more fans before Matthew was dragging him back inside. He laughed as he stumbled, trying to keep himself upright at the speed Matthew was going. “I’m coming give me a second!” Thomas said after tripping on the raised bar that separated the inside and outside.

   It was a rush of lights and sounds as they all got ready. Cordelia, Lucie, Anna, Alastair, and surprisingly Jesse had all stopped to wish them good luck before they went out on stage. They were currently backstage watching the fans from where they were tucked away in the shadows of the stage. 

   Matthew was bouncing on the balls of his feet and James was laughing at his excitement while Christopher just stared in wonder at everything. Thomas felt that nervous flutter in his stomach again but was pleasantly surprised when he realized his excitement was winning out.

   They were on in two minutes and Matthew turned to them with a big smile. “Huddle.” He said and the boys laughed as they made a circle, their arms over shoulders. Thomas was between Matthew and Christopher, bending down to accommodate for his height.

   “I would just like to say gentlemen,” Matthew said in a noticeably quieter voice that informed the other boys it was about to get sappy. “That no matter what happens out there I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone but y’all.” Thomas brought his hand up to Matthew’s hair to ruffle it slightly as Christopher smiled at them and voiced his agreement, James kissed Matthew on the cheek and turned to everyone. 

   “I love you guys more than anything and I know we’re going to rock it tonight.” He gave Thomas a pointed look as he said the next part. “There’s no reason to be nervous and we’re all right there so just know we’ve got your back.” Matthew nodded and Christopher clapped his shoulder. Thomas beamed at them wondering how he got so lucky to have these three as his best friends.

   “I’m proud of all of you. I really am, just look how far we’ve come.” Thomas said in a gentle voice, gesturing with his head at the crowd and stage. Matthew laughed and James looked at all of them. “I’m proud of y’all too. It took a lot to get here.” James said and Thomas couldn’t disagree.

   Christopher put his head in the middle and they all put their heads together. “Let’s rock this.” Christopher said and Thomas could hear his smile even if he couldn’t see it. They all shouted their agreement and broke the huddle. Anna was standing there looking at them fondly.

   She came up and ruffled his brother’s hair before flinging her arm around Matthew’s shoulders. “Knock ‘em dead boys.” She said and Thomas smiled at the proudness she felt in her voice. It always was the best feeling to have Anna be proud of you.

   Thomas grabbed James and Matthew’s hands and James grabbed Christopher’s, they all squeezed their hands and smiled at each other. “Let’s do this.” James said and with that, they all strode onto the stage.

   The crowd had already been loud but the screams were deafening when they saw the boys walk on stage. Thomas couldn’t help the giddy excitement building up in his chest. This was real. This was happening. 

   Matthew adjusted the microphone and waved at the crowd who screamed again in response. “Hello! I’m Matthew Fairchild and we’re the Merry Thieves.” He had to pause as another wave of scream washed over the crowd. Thomas could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. This was real, this was real, this was real.

  “We’re so glad to be here today thank y’all for welcoming us!” Another wave of screams and applause rang out and the boys all shared a disbelieving look. “Okay! I do believe we should get this started don’t y’all agree?” More screams. There were a few girls in the front who were all screaming at Matthew with signs that said ‘Marry me?’ and ‘#1 Fairchild Stan’ which Thomas didn’t actually understand.

    Matthew winked at the girls who started freaking out. “Okay, this song is called Bang!” There were cheers from everywhere and Thomas smiled at the crowd before moving to the electric piano that was off to the side. He started the song as James and Christopher started clapping and Matthew smiled at the crowd as he began singing.

I get up, I get down and I'm jumping around

And the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now

Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to grow

Bang! Bang! Bang!

So I got an apartment across from the park

Put quinoa in my fridge, still I'm not feeling grown

Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to go

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Here we go)

   James and Christopher start playing their respective instruments and the crowd screams as the drums and guitar filter through.

So put your best face on everybody

Pretend you know this song

Everybody come hang (come hang)

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I'm way too young to lie here forever

I'm way too old to try so whatever come hang (come hang)

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Feel like I'm gonna puke 'cause my taxes are due

Does my password begin with a one or a two?

Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to grow

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Metronome)

Man, I'm up to something (up to something)

Ooh de la de do, thank you all for coming (all for coming)

I hope you like the show

'Cause it's on a budget (on a budget)

So ooh de la de do

Yeah, come on, here we go

Yeah, come on

(Here we go)

So put your best face on everybody

Pretend you know this song

Everybody come hang (come hang)

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I'm way too young to lie here forever

I'm way too old to try so whatever come hang (come hang)

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang! (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)

Bang! Bang! Bang! (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)

Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to go

So put your best face on everybody

Pretend you know this song

Everybody come hang

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Here we go)

So put your best face on everybody

Pretend you know this song

Everybody come hang (come hang)

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang! (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)

I'm way too young to lie here forever

I'm way too old to try so whatever come hang (come hang)

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Here we go)

Bang! Bang!

   Thomas watched as the crowd screams and claps. Thomas couldn’t really get a good breath in but it’s not like his panic attacks it’s almost a good feeling. Thomas watched as he sat back on James’ drum platform as Matthew starts addressing the crowd again.

   James smiled at him and puts his hand over his microphone as he leaned forward to talk to Thomas. “You doing okay?” He asks just loud enough for Thomas to hear, Thomas looks around again and nods turning his head back to James. “God yes, this is magical.” James laughs and nods in agreement as Matthew finishes talking. 

   James shoos Thomas away and he goes to pick up his guitar. He looks over to the side of the stage and pauses momentarily when he sees Alastair, Cordelia, and Lucie sitting there watching them. Lucie and Cordelia wave with bright smiles on their faces while Alastair meets Thomas’s eyes and wink giving him a thumbs-up gesture. 

   Thomas laughs lightly and points at him before he looks at Christopher and nods signaling them to start. The notes start filtering in and Thomas can’t help sending one last look towards Alastair.

There once was a bittersweet man and they called him, "Lemon Boy"

He was growing in my garden and I pulled him out by his hair like a weed

And like weeds do he only came and grew back again

So, I figured this time I might as well let him be

Lemon Boy and me started to get along together

I helped him plant his seeds

And we'd mow the lawn in bad weather

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

So, I got myself a citrus friend

But soon his bittersweet started to rub off on me

You'd think smelling like lemon zest would be pretty neat

I found out that my friends are more of the savory type

And they weren't too keen on compromising with a nice lemon pie

So Lemon Boy and me, we just gotta get along together

I helped him plant his seeds

And we'll mow the lawn in bad weather

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

So, I got myself a citrus friend

But what if I run out of fertilizer?

What if the clouds run out of rain?

What if Lemon Boy won't grow no longer?

What if beaches dry of sugar cane?

Oh well

The whales start to beach themselves

Tortoise shells tear away from their spines

It happens all the time, it happens all the time

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Like Snufkin and little my, we'll get around wherever

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Like Snufkin and little my, we'll get around wherever

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

'Cause we're the bitterest boys in town

Yeah, we're the bitterest guys around

And I got myself a citrus friend

   Thomas watched as the crowd erupted into cheers again and couldn’t help thinking that this was a dream. He pinched himself and laughed maniacally when he felt a small pain. This was real. He was really here with his friends.

   He turned to look back at Alastair who was now clapping and screaming on his feet while Lucie and Cordelia jumped excitedly. Thomas shook his head.

   This was real.

[cals-laundry]

A Picture Says A Thousand Words, A Video Says More

You toss the hoodie aside and open Snapchat instead. It feels so naughty and you find yourself enjoying it all a little more than you thought. You snap a picture, but as you hit send, the sound from your laptop still playing Netflix makes you jump. You feel silly. “Stupid; getting scared over something that small.”

Relationship: Touya Todoroki x GN! Reader Words: 2,156 Tags: sibling incest, fake sex, acted sex, sex toys

Only your big brother can fix your ruined Valentine’s plans.

You twist and turn in front of the mirror, you take everything in, and you almost can’t believe it’s you . You'd gone all out, right down to the garter belt and stockings. Your parents, brothers, and sister all had plans for Valentine’s day too, but they had left in the last while. Except Touya, you could hear his shower running. You’d taken extra care in getting ready this time, and you have to say, you feel hot. Your boyfriend would be drooling in no time. Speak of the Devil; your phone buzzes, and you see his name on the screen with a little heart emoji after it. No doubt excitement, maybe even a cheeky little picture of his own.

“Hey, babe! I’m so sorry but something came up, gotta cancel tonight. See you Tuesday?”

Disappointment bubbles in you, and hot tears spring forth with no warning. All that excitement, the joy, that self confidence runs down the drain at his words. Maybe you were a fool for even getting this into it. A door slams somewhere; Touya must have left. With no audience, even an accidental one, you let the tears flow fully, and you decide to welcome in the oldest cliché you can; you throw a hoodie on over your lingerie and you go digging in the freezer for some ice cream. You feel so stupid now. Maybe you should have taken the lingerie off fully. You groan in annoyance and instead of whining internally, you settle against the counter and dig your spoon into the ice cream. Your family wouldn’t be home for hours. Or so you thought.

“What are you still doing here?” Touya walks into the room, freshly showered, cologne on, and dressed pretty well for him.

“Boyfriend cancelled.”

“Ouch. Fuckin’ sucks. You alright?”

You shrug.

“I’ve got ice cream and Netflix.”

You hide the part about having dildos better than his dick.

“Y’sure? It’s shitty of him to cancel on Valentine’s. Even if it’s a shitty day anyway.”

“You can say that; you have a date.”

“How d’ya know?”

“Shirt.”

“Pfft, maybe I wanna look nice for friends.”

“Doubtful. Keigo doesn’t even know how to button a shirt.”

He laughs at your comment, but then, rounds the counter to make for the fridge. And stops.

“The fuck you wearing?”

You choke on ice cream and try to huddle into your hoodie.

“Shit, I thought everyone was out when I came down,” you grab the ice cream and your spoon and leave before embarrassment can swallow you whole. You don’t hear whatever Touya calls after you, but you might be better for it.

* Sitting around in lingerie, eating ice cream, and watching Netflix isn’t so bad. It makes you feel like one of those people in a photoshoot. But every so often you remember why you’re stuck like this at all and it just makes your chest swell with hurt. But at the same time, the brush of lace against your sex, the way the stockings feel when you move, it’s all so...teasing. You can’t help but enjoy the sensation, and it isn’t long before it turns to full blown arousal. And why waste that? Your mind juggles accepting your boyfriend’s apology and not, and lands at the middle; why not show him just how much he’s missing? You pose in front of the mirror as you had earlier, and sneak a picture first. Not bad. You toss the hoodie aside and open Snapchat instead. It feels so naughty and you find yourself enjoying it all a little more than you thought. You snap a picture, but as you hit send, the sound from your laptop still playing Netflix makes you jump. You feel silly.

“Stupid; getting scared over something that small.”

You snap another picture and another and another - a simple pose with that hoodie from earlier, touching yourself loosely, bent over with your hole obscured by only the lace - and for each one, you just hit “last snap”; safest way to avoid accidents. After your little photoshoot, you get just a little too brave. You face the mirror, spread your legs, and hit record as you pull the lace to the side to tease yourself. Two lubed fingers slip into your hole with practiced ease but you moan all the same. You send it quickly before you can back out, and then, you send another video; this time as you fill your hole with something bigger and wider and made of silicone. You cast your phone aside and the irritation from earlier is forgotten. Instead you bask at the fullness of that dildo inside you, even as you miss the warmth of the real thing. You moan shamelessly, beg and plead and your back arches as you get closer and closer and your voice peaks into some high pitched whine.

Then the door slams.

You quieten yourself but the footsteps are quick, angry. Your door bursts open and you can barely fix your eyes on Touya when he crosses the room as you desperately try to hide yourself.

“You cheeky, slutty little shit,” he shoves your knees apart where you’ve put them together.

“Touya, what are you doing?!”

He just laughs and admires the way your hole stretches around the dildo before he grabs the end and pulls slowly.

“You thought you could fuckin’ get away with it, huh? Just because your boyfriend is shitty?”

He thrusts it back into you and you moan. Every shuffle away and he hooks an arm under your legs to pull you back.

“Touya, stop!”

“What? Don’t want it now that I’m here for real?”

You stop. His eyes are on yours but as you stop, anger and frustration melt away and he looks dumbfounded.

“Well?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Tryna play dumb?” he quirks a brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He snorts.

“Are you trying to tell me you already forgot sending me those snaps?”

Your stomach goes icy cold, but he keeps talking.

“You already forgot that photo of you bent over with this cute little ass all covered with some message about wishing I was here?”

He sets a pace with the dildo and you can’t speak up.

“You already forgot the video of you showing off your hole before fucking it for me?”

Your stomach drops like lead but he doesn’t stop.

“I-I didn’t mean to!”

“Sure, play whatever game you want to make yourself feel better; your big brother is still going to fuck you until you never want another cock.”

You shudder at the words.

“T-Touya, I didn’t….I wasn’t...I sent those to the wrong person.”

He stills. And he pales. And suddenly, he looks sick.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I was trying to like...show my boyfriend what he was missing. I...I hit your name by accident.”

He pulls back and suddenly, he looks so guilty.

“Holy shit, holy shit, okay, fuck, I, uh, I- I’m so sorry, I should go, I-”

But as he stands to leave, the dildo he’d been keeping inside your sloppy hole drops out and you catch him looking at how your hole involuntarily clenches. He stares for a beat too long...but you don’t hate it. He swallows, and you reach between your legs again to find the dildo and press it back against you. He swallows again and edges forward.

“P-put it back in.”

Such a change in tone, but before you can mock him for it, he shoves his jeans and underwear down, and he fists his cock with a sigh of relief.  You can’t deny his request at that sight. You push it in, deep as it can go, and pull out. And you know he’s matching you. It’s sort of silly when he steps closer and places the tip of himself against your skin with his hand around it. As you push in, he pushes his hips forward until he can see just how deep he could be. He watches, fucking you only in theory, and your heart flutters at the way he looks down at you. He looks...good. Really good. And you miss the enthusiastic, eager man he was just moments ago. He groans and his head falls back, and without thinking, you press into yourself a little harder and gasp out “Touya!” His eyes flick to yours.

“Was that real?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Touya.”

“Wait.”

He leaves and before you can question it, he’s back beside you with something in his hand.

“I’m gonna just...put this right here,” he places it on your stomach and holds it in place, “can you keep...can I…” he doesn’t want to say it but you know. You touch his hand, move it from the fleshlight, and wiggle your garter belt over it to hold it in place. His hands plant at either side of your hips, and you reach between the pair of you to grip the base of your dildo again. With a nod, you pull out until just the tip rests there and he lines himself up with his toy. Together, you press forward, and silly as it all seemed, it feels...right. The brush of his hips and the pace itself makes it feel like it’s him. And that thrills you in ways you can’t explain. Each press of silicone gets faster, and he waits, he matches you each time, but his hands are unruly. They hold your waist, caress your cheek, hold your hand, anything they can do within reason. Without touching where they shouldn’t. And the fantasy of it melts away. You forget it. You simply let your head fall back and your knees press to his waist, and you moan and whine and beg. The snap of his hips makes you work faster, and in turn, his thrusts pick up. Your arm wraps around his shoulders, and the pair of you stare between your legs. Your voice hitches as his balls slap against that spot, the one you love most, and you whine for him.

“Again, again, please,” your head rolls back as he nods, and somehow, he hits it again, and you lose it to the fantasy.

“Fuck, Touya, it’s so good, it’s so good, please, I’m close,” you moan the words so shamelessly and he swears at them under his breath,

“I know, I know, I-I can feel it. You’re squeezing me so fucking good, I wanna cum.”

“Cum in me, please, I need it, please!”

His hips lose all pattern and your hand does too. It dissolves to desperation; his hair tickles your forehead, his grip turns too tight, and the slap of him against you is so eager, so strong, and it slips out before you can stop it.

“Big brother!”

Your orgasm threatens, but he leans down close to whisper against your ear.

“You want your big brother’s cum?”

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Cum in me, big brother, please, I need it, I wanna feel it, I- fuck, I’m gonna cum, Touya, please, big brother, I’m gonna-” your voice breaks into a sob and you cling to him too tight. The peak of your orgasm is there, but it needs one last push before it crashes through you.

“I’m gonna cum in you, I’m gonna cum, keep going, cum with your big brother.”

That does it. You throw your head back and desperately try to keep your pace as you call his name, but his hips still, and his hands grab your hips and pull you against him so hard that it pushes the dildo just right and you whine out “big brother!”. He’s muttering under his breath; “take it, take it, fuck, you take all my cum so fucking good.”

You gasp for air, legs still pinned against his sides, but your bliss is shortlived. Downstairs, the front door opens, and Touya, quick as a whip, is off of you, toy forgotten as he buttons up and leaves the room with only a single glance over his shoulder. You rush too, and once in your shower, the guilt teases at you. You clean his toy and your own, and when you settle to bed, it’s with a weary heart at just how much you prayed it would all happen again.

*

Days pass. You and Touya can’t even look at each other, not even alone. But he misses it as much as you do.

Sometime much too early, your door creaks open, and searching hands sneak over your locker for something forgotten.

“Bathroom,” you mutter before you roll onto your side and he disappears in there before coming back. There’s a pop of a cap, a slick sound, and Touya nudges the hard end of it between your thighs before he curls against your back. You hear his sigh of relief mingle with a squelching sound before he speaks.

“Hold it steady for your big brother?”

[sparkmender]

Here’s the first chapter of Close Encounters, the Faebug/Hive AU series I’ve been working on. I’m gonna cross post most of this stuff to Tumblr too just in an effort to keep things organized. :>

It’s Monday night—

The last Monday night before the end of the world, not that anyone knows it—

And there are two blue, pupil-less eyes the size of the headlights on her beat up VW Beetle staring at her through her bedroom window.

They blink out almost as soon as Charlie twitches. Whatever it was probably got spooked off by the fact that she jolted upright in bed and stared right back at it, compelled by— something. That feeling of being watched. The remnants of a nightmare. Whatever.

If whatever the eyes belonged to made noise as it departed, she couldn’t hear it over the buzz of the heavy fan her mom helped her drag into the big bedroom when she moved in to the old Ochoco house. It might as well not’ve been there at all.

Except for the fact that she saw it, and all the hair on the back of her neck and along her arms stood like she’d rubbed a balloon over herself to see the static electricity.

Lots of things had been a little weird since yesterday, though. Especially in the upper Northwest. It’s not exactly every day that a volcano goes off in the United States. Even if Oregon is a state away from Washington, Sunday had been stressful, to say the least. Some part of her had anticipated another explosion at some point. Guillermo had teased her for being a worry-wart and then started listing off all sorts of possibly apocalyptic events from most to least likely on his fingers. He got to ‘alien robots who disguise themselves as kitchen appliances’ before Charlie threw a shoe at him.

Under the quilt next to her, Guillermo sleeps as he always does, an arm shoved under his ridiculous stack of pillows and his long legs tangled in more than his fair share of the sheets.

Maybe it’s all in her head. Dreams were supposed to be how the brain processed stuff that happened during the day, right? So.

So she’s not crazy. It’s just her brain trying to make sense of the whole active volcano thing compounded by childhood fears and the well-ingrained camping habit of keeping an ear out for bears trying to pilfer your supplies.

Probably.

Charlie doesn’t sleep the rest of the night, or she could have sworn she hadn’t, but between this blink and the next the alarm is going off on the nightstand and Memo’s already in the kitchen, fighting with the coffee maker he can’t stand to get rid of because he bought it with his first paycheck from his magazine gig. (Who knew speculative sci-fi nerd writing not only paid, but paid well, with the right kind of publisher?) If he’d heard anything in the night, he doesn’t mention it.

After pulling her socks on but before shoveling flapjacks into her mouth, the eyes are forgotten.

If they’d ever existed at all.

————

In fact, the eyes remain forgotten all the way until her third break of the day, hanging out with two of the older rangers who’d come back to the main office after clearing out a couple of downed trees off the Crater Lake hiking trail. Samson Jr.— who usually went by ‘Spike’— was a lanky, shaggy brunet a few years older than Charlie who still got carded at every bar they went to, with a permanent sunburn across the bridge of his nose and a personality so sunny it bordered on obnoxious. On the other hand, his father, Samson Sr., was a warm, stocky man who worked construction before throwing his lot in with parks and recreation and could have been anywhere from his mid 40s to his late 60s. They’d both been there when Charlie had started as an intern in college and were probably both going to still be there if she ever decided to leave or get transferred somewhere warmer, like California, or something.

She liked the both of them. Samson was more of a family figure to her than her stepdad Ron, and he’d helped her get a permanent spot on the team. Sometimes she and Memo went out with Spike and his girlfriend Carly, and Memo and Spike had more than a few interests in common. Mainly Star Wars, but also stuff like He-Man and tabletop games and computers. Most of it went over Charlie’s head— she’d grown up a music nerd thanks to Dad and a car fanatic thanks to Uncle Hank, never much one for pulp fiction— but she and Carly enjoyed teasing the two of them for being ‘Oregon’s own X-Files department.'

So it wasn’t exactly surprising when Spike brought up his perennial fixation, Bigfoot theories, again.

“I don’t know,” he’d started, mouth full of half of a Snickers bar as he waved the other end of it around for emphasis. “I don’t know. But I don’t think that those trees just fell over for no reason. I mean, there were some aftershocks from the eruption, right? But nothing out here. It kind of looked more like some kind of impact hit them, sort of like a boulder had rolled down the hill and toppled ‘em over. But that doesn’t make any sense either, since there’s no loose rocks large enough to knock over three whole fir trees on that side of the trail. Maybe it was a Sasquatch. I bet they mark their territory by brushing up against trees like the bears do, and this one just got over-enthusiastic.”

Samson snatched the other half of the candy bar before Spike could accidentally smack Charlie with it, just to toss it back into the basket of goodies on the windowsill again.

“First of all, stop raiding the candy stash. That’s for visitors, and last I checked, you haven’t been a visitor since you were 16,” the older man scolded, but he couldn’t quite keep the amusement off his face— Spike had to have gotten his enthusiasm from somewhere. “And something tells me that if there really was a ‘sat-squash’ or whatever it is, it probably wouldn’t be hanging around where there’s regular humans coming and going all day, every day. At least if it knew what was good for it. It was just a regular tree fall, it’s been cleared, and now we’ve got more firewood for the campers.”

Though mourning the loss of his candy, Spike was quick to poke a finger in the air triumphantly at Samson.

“Okay, but how do you explain the fur clumps we found scattered there, huh? Way softer than any regular sort of wild animal.”

Charlie had been absently nodding along to their pseudo-argument, only to perk up at Spike’s outburst, dropping the pen she’d been fiddling with. And then curse herself out silently as both of the older rangers turned to her at the way she’d reacted. In the back of her head, she remembered: that split-second glimpse of those unnaturally big eyes, framed by fluff and set into a broad, flat face.

“Uh.”

Spike grinned.

“See? Charlie agrees with me—”

“She said ‘uh,’ Junior, that’s not an agreement—”

“I mean, maybe,” she blurts out before she can stop herself, heat flushing her face at the outburst, awkwardly picking up the pen she’d dropped to snap the cap over it again. “I don’t know what’s out there. You know what they tell us when we start ranger training; don’t go off the trails.”

God, it’s like Charlie can’t help herself, suddenly, as superstitious and paranoid as one of the characters Memo would write into his stories. It was all just stuff the trainers would tell them to haze the kids starting out, the sort of shit teenagers joked about or camp councilors made up to freak out their campers. None of it was actually true. But in another life, maybe, to someone more interesting or smarter or less lucky (or luckier, some stupid impulse wants to say) than Charlie—

For a moment, vivid and shining, Charlie felt some spark of pure terror in her.

The thing in her bedroom window. Was it still near her house? Was she going to come home to find Guillermo missing, or worse?

“Sure, some of it is just common sense safety guidelines, but what about the weirder ones? The rules about not climbing random staircases in the woods— don’t stop to listen to any music if you’re not near a registered campsite, like that’s ever been a thing? Or never telling someone you meet without gear on a trail what your name is? I mean, there’s got to be some kind of a reason for these things, or else we wouldn’t all have them hammered into our skulls over the course of three years,” she rambles, pulse thudding in her ears. “Nobody makes up how-tos about things for no reason.”

In the quiet pause in conversation that followed, Charlie felt the embarrassed burn on her face spread to her ears and creep down the back of her neck.

“…Or it’s an opportunistic raccoon?” she squeaks out.

“Probably a raccoon. Damn.” Spike finally relents, shoulders slumping with a dejected sigh. He really looks genuinely disappointed, soon ambling over to drape himself over Charlie’s desk in the hopes of some sympathy pats as Samson chuckles in the background about how today’s cinema is rotting everybody's brains out their ears.

————

Nobody notices the candy basket on the windowsill going missing as they head back out to do rounds of the campgrounds.

[doomedandstoned]

Planet of the Dead Return to the Stars as ‘Pilgrims’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album Art by Jonathan Guzi

Every other day there's a story that calls our eyes heavenward to wonder about new planets discovered in nearby solar systems, terraforming Mars, or exploring the smallest elements in the universe. Anywhere has to be better than here, any time better than here right now. At least that's what a lot of people are feeling. How about the power of music to elevate us into vast dimensions of the imagination. One band out of New Zealand is interested in finding out what limits one can breach when the driving power of doom rock is hotwired with adventurous sci-fi/fantasy storytelling.

I speak, of course, of Wellington quartet PLANET OF THE DEAD Last year, Mark Mundell (vox), Malcolm McKenzie (guitar), Kees Hengst (bass), and Josh Hussey (drums) brought us the impressive first introduction to their soundscape and narrative concept, which elicited no small amount of praise for 'Fear of a Dead Planet' (2020), including the enthusiastic Bandcamper who gushed, "Some of the best jams I've heard in this universe!" Listen to fan favorites "The Eternal Void" or "Mind Killer" and you'll discover why there's excitement around this band's future.

But Planet of the Dead wasn't done yet. As many of us have already experienced, unexpected and elongated times of forced aloneness do crazy things to the creative mind. For one, it frustrates, as you cannot express the present songs you feel so strongly about to live crowds filled with spontaneous drifters. The moods usually shift out of sheer exasperated boredom, leading to the insatiable urge to begin tinkering again. 'Pilgrim' (2021) comes at us like an explosion with stories to tell and songs to wail. It's purpose-driven interdimensional doom we're talking about here. This may have been the impetus behind the second album’s creation, so closely after the birth of their first (incidentally, both records feature exactly eight songs a piece).

"Gom Jabbar" is the first creature we chance upon in this otherworldly dimension. He speaks with synth-enhanced vocals (ever so slightly) that's practically like an alien encounter if you listen to it high (gosh, sorry. I've gotta stop leaking album reviewer secrets like that). A defiant second voice joins the dialogue, sounding for all the world like Goliath, Hercules, or Hulkian figure.

"Pilgrim" stirs up grey and purple auras as this groovy sandcrawler glides across dunes and high above deserts, searching for the most fitting place to (re)build the world they once knew, perhaps even dare to dream beyond it. I'm assuming they're a scientific voyage on the run from a restrictive government in a week's long mini series I should have pitched to NBC 20 years ago for big bucks. The song allows your imagination drift on its own recognisance, before the closing words call us back to the shadows.

A dire feeling blankets the air throughout "Nostromo," a stomping little number that's straight-up doom rock, with a cool streetwalking kind of stride. It's impossible to not to think of previous adventures aboard vessels christened Nostromo, but each are mysterious encounters with the unknown, some of which yield new insights into our humanity by taking us back through some strange luck of heavy metal time travel to experience pivotal moments in astral history.

"The Sprawl" may be one of the most dismal legs of this journey, but in an exotic acid-soaked kind of way that makes you question your reality (and your own sanity) before the trip is done. The song is good about building various layers of joy and tension, then meshing them together for some distorted, fuzzy, electric, sparkin' Frankensteinian experience. Where will the spiral take us next? Confident lead gets a riff-enhanced jolt, staging march-like-groove that eventually turns meditative, psychedelic, and ethereal. And that's just the first side of the record! Go ahead, flip it over. You can't stop this far-invested in the trip. Shhh. Listen. Grungy, rumbling energy, extraterrestrial harmonics, and gnarly acid-touched solos are just ahead.

"Escape from Smith's Grove" jars the senses with the unexpected tonal shift from clarinets into a seismic pattern of eruptions that match our stomping feet. This is, after all, a jailbreak of sorts.

"Directive IV" takes the perspective of an enforcement officer who is just doing his job. Mark Mundell's vocal stylings are on-point. For me they compare to the pipes of the late-great Wayne Static, the spastic, growling frontman of Static X. Others may see more similarity with the "common man" grit of Scott Angelacos from Hollow Leg and Junior Bruce. Or even Kirk Windstein's apocalyptic spitfire with Crowbar.

The song appears to be a struggle of conscience between compassion and machine-like order, a tug-of-war that after several epic call and response segments in which our protagonist is put on trial by his peers. The tight grip of fascistic space goons gradually loosens their grip in the song's final minutes, as a street-worn riff storm carries our rebels far away from the grasp of whatever the fucks. That means our (now treasonous) soldier has a second chance at life in the (are you ready for this?) the unknown wilds of...

..."The Cursed Earth." This is a perfect song for that moment in a show when the alcohol or "legal tobacco" has sufficiently unlocked your third eye with stellar riffs and choruses (this song has several "ah-ha" moments). The vocals are obscured here and are sometimes backed up by other singers to emphasize a specific point in the lyrical narrative. The final moments again are slowed down with impactful tonal moments that make you think you're on the edge spying some strange meeting of warrior souls.

Things are not what they seem They never are

"The Great Wave" pulls you right into its hypnotic sway, interjected with extraterrestrial strains of thought communicated as if by a very blasted HAL 9000, our onboard computer. It's downright creepy when it hits you. Then again, maybe that's what we want from an intrepid album such as Pilgrim, to rope us into a fascinating narrative and invite us to return to sort out the details, several spins down the road. Now that I think of it, maybe these songs are all references pinned to great Alien, Robocop, and Judge Dredd moments? Listen closely to "Nostromo" and "Directive IV" and wonder. A good album should do that to a person, draw you into its storytelling and musical colour. It has me listening to it immediately from beginning to end, then end to beginning. If you wanna give it a shot, Planet of the Dead's monsterpiece will definitely reward your back-to-back listens.

Look for Pilgrims to come to life on July 23rd, with a fantastic spread of options on vinyl and CD (pre-order here). In the meanwhile, Planet of the Dead are letting us join the party leading up to the big drop right here at Doomed & Stoned HQ, where you can hear each track in full. Don't miss crucial insight from the band itself in 'Some Buzz' to follow. Then join in sharing your thoughts and theories (stoned or otherwise) on this transcendental New Zealand metal album in the comments below!

Give ear...

LISTEN: Planet of the Dead - Pilgrim

SOME BUZZ

Just little over a year following the release of their auspicious debut album, 'Fear of a Dead Planet' (2020), which attained more than 35,000 views on YouTube, New Zealand cosmic stoner and doom four-piece band Planet of the Dead are back with a new full-length album titled 'Pilgrims' (2021).

Hurtling towards the forever yawning void within their busted-up space freighter, they draw inspiration from classic science fiction and horror, and push supermassive and megalithic riffs to the outer limits.

"Our second album came together around the titular track 'Pilgrim', which is based on the book 'Slaughterhouse 5' by Kurt Vonnegut. Musically, it plays upon the themes of moments trapped in the amber." So says the band about this new album.

"Our basic concept is heavy music played heavy, and we try to keep it simple. There are recurrent themes in our riffs which gives the album a sense of coherence, but we've experimented with some new sounds in the latest album which we feel results in a greater sense of dynamism.

"Lyrically, we dug deeper into our obsessions with classic sci-fi and horror. There is a distinctive and undeniable fan-fiction element to our work. We actively seek out cultural references, and weave them into our tapestries. Ultimately, we do everything we do for the great god Dyzan, for his greater glory...and for our mutual pleasure.”

Set for release on July 23rd, 'Pilgrims' will surely cement Planet of the Dead’s reputation as serious riff merchants.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

[bramblepeltao3]

HBD Ardyn

A tiny ficlet that came to me this morning for the trash man’s birthday

Del smirked, very much pleased with her hiding place. She wondered quietly what she would do the day she was no longer small enough to fit anywhere and everywhere. Perhaps by then she could simply make people do whatever she wanted, no sneaking required. Wouldn’t that be cool?

She worked on controlling her breathing to make sure she was as quiet as possible. There weren’t as many workstations in this office, just the one, so not enough fans were buzzing to mask the inconvenient sounds her body made to exist.

Man, having no body at all would be the most cool.

Finally she could hear the door open and two sets of footsteps walking towards her. ‘Yes,’ she thought to herself, ‘he brought the student in this time.’ That was perfect, it meant the lead scientist would be saying all the important stuff out loud to them. The pair of nice, polished shoes sat in the desk chair while the clean but cheap shoes stood next to it.

“There are a number of clearance steps you have to pass to get into this information,” the lead scientist man began, “first is a username that’s different from your standard one. It’s your first initial, last name, and year of birth.”

Del grinned. She could easily figure out that information for the majority of the employees here.

“And the default password is capital M Magitek1234. Make sure you change it when you get started.”

Jackpot! There was no way every single employee took the time to change their password. She was as good as in now.

“Next you need to enter the security clearance code. Write this down but eventually you should probably memorize it…”

Del closed her eyes and listened intently, knowing the pen and paper that was her own memory would capture it with ease. 

“And finally you have to click the dialogue box asking if you accept responsibility for what you do on the terminal.”

Oh, yes she would happily accept responsibility on someone else’s behalf.

“And you’re in. Now,”

The six year old listened to the tutorial on how to use the charting system. She would probably be able to figure it out herself, given enough time, but she wanted to spend as much of it as possible reading everything she could.

Halfway through the navigation button explanation, the lead scientist adjusted his legs and kicked the bottom of the desk she was hiding under. She flinched instinctively, but successfully stayed quiet.

Until some dust broke loose into the air and made its way to her. She tried to hold back, even keeping her hands held over her nose and mouth. But the reflexes of the human body could not be stopped, and in spite of herself she sneezed. It was small, barely a squeak, but as soon as she made it the man in charge stopped talking. He pushed his chair back from the desk and whispered something she couldn’t make out.

He knew. 

The student bent over, eyes going wide when he saw her. 

“Uh, yes Doctor, there is a-”

“I know, her name is Delphia and she’s a rotten little brat. Her room is in the north hallway, number 375. Take her back there and lock the door.”

Del had a single moment to make a decision: she could easily escape from this situation if she so chose to. She could squirm back up the way she came between the wall and the back of the desk (the gap existed so the computer could be plugged into the wall outlet, she only needed to push it a tiny bit to get through). From there she could jump back to the ventilation opening and escape. But then everyone would know her secret passageways and there would certainly be repercussions. So the other option was to simply make this idiot teenager think she was an innocent little girl and ditch his grasp the moment the door opened.

Del put on her best innocent little kid face and crawled out from under the desk. Luckily the dust was already making her eyes water, and she used that to make herself look even more pathetic.

“I’m sorry doctor! I was scared and needed to hide!” She said, laying it on even thicker when she looked towards the younger man.

“You’re a liar and a waste of everyone’s time. This isn’t a daycare, go back to your room!” The old man who had no power over her commanded.

Del temporarily stifled her pride and sniffled. “Yes Sir.” She took the boy’s hand and let him walk her to the door. She had everything she needed now anyway.

“So, Delphia right? How old are you?” The boy asked as they walked through the doorway.

“I’m six years old…” she answered quietly.

“You’re kind of young to be in a place like this. What were you hiding from?”

Del forced her lip to tremble. “The monsters,” she whispered, “they’re all over and they said they’re gonna get me.”

“Awe, I’m sure nothing here would want to hurt a cute little kid like you!”

She tired of this exchange. Pretending to be a big baby made her skin crawl but it certainly had its benefits.

“You can just leave me here, I can get back by myself,” she said while rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

“Oh it’s no trouble Delly.”

WHAT did this guy just call her?

“I’m sorry for being a bother, I know all of you guys are super busy.” She could feel herself willing him to let go of her hand.

The boy looked at her, then back towards the office, and spent a long amount of time trying to think. Del swore she could see smoke coming out of his ears.

“I’d better do what he said. It’s okay though, do you want to sing a song while we walk to make it less scary?”

Fuck. Time for Operation Shock Value.

“No, I don’t want to fucking sing, are you stupid?” Del asked in her normal voice.

The words had their intended effect as the boy let go of her hand and stepped back in disbelief at what he heard.

Del took a moment to stick her tongue out, expose her middle finger, and took off running.

“W-wait, hey, Delphia!” His loud footsteps were quick behind her. The older scientists were much easier to run from.

She turned a corner slightly too fast and slid, barely recovering before falling and continuing on. It gave him enough time to close the gap she’d pushed so hard to create. Just as she thought her fun today was over with, she turned another corner and-

“Uncle Ardyn!” She squealed, slowing to a stop and reaching her arms up to the only adult in the whole star who was worth a damn.

“Well well, what sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into today, Delphia?” The Chancellor asked as the boy’s footsteps stopped behind her.

“Ch-chancellor Izunia?” He asked.

“One and the same,” Ardyn answered with a grin, scooping Del up into his arms. She turned and spit out her tongue once again in a show of victory. “Has my little niece been giving you trouble?”

“N-nie-? Uh, Chancellor, Sir, I was asked to-”

“He was chasing me! I was just trying to play a game and he was so mean.” Del turned to give her puppy dog eyes to Uncle Ardyn. It was simply for the fun of it, as she knew the man could always see right through her.

“Tsk tsk,” Ardyn wagged his finger at her before poking her on the nose, “now what have we said about lying, little finch?”

“That it’s a normal coping mechanism for children from abusive households,” she repeated from memory.

“Indeed it is. And?”

Del huffed. “And it’s still a bad behavior and I should do better to stop relying on it…”

“Very good. You can return to your business now, young man,” Ardyn said politely. He turned around and began to walk down the long hallway, still carrying Del gently. 

“Uncle Ardyn I didn’t know you’d be here today!” Del chirped.

He chuckled. “Your father asked me to come by for a special presentation. And one you shouldn’t even think about listening in on.”

“Aaawe,” Del whined. He was the one person she didn’t want to disappoint. So if he said she shouldn’t do something, she would usually behave.

Usually. 

“Now now, you wouldn’t mope about on your Uncle Ardyn’s birthday would you?” 

“Birthday?” Del asked. She knew in theory that birthdays were an important thing. Her birthdays until now were an excuse for her mother to throw another big party to show her off like a prop. Her sixth birthday came and went with nothing but a simple gift from Uncle Ardyn: a small orange cake. It was the best thing she’d ever eaten in her whole life.

She began to feel a distressing disappointment. “I...I didn’t get you anything!” 

Uncle Ardyn laughed before kneeling and putting her down in front of her personal computer terminal. “I have no need of material possessions, but if you would like to do something nice for me on this day, perhaps you could mind your manners at tonight’s dinner?”

She rolled her eyes and stifled a whine. If that’s what he wanted then that was what she would do.

“Okay…” She forgot tonight was her weekly Dinner with Dad night. She much preferred eating in the cafeteria with the interns who found her wit and sass charming. Also they had better food in the cafeteria. “What should I study today?” She asked before climbing into her chair and turning on her terminal.

“Hmm, why don’t you learn how an engine works? And give me a full report at the end of the day.”

She nodded enthusiastically. She loved updating the Chancellor with everything she learned between his visits.

“Yes! I can do that!”

“Very good, now that’s why you’re my favorite niece.” He gave her another gentle tap on the nose, eliciting a snorting giggle.

“Do you have any other nieces?” She asked.

“Oh, now and then.” He gave her a quick pat on the head, and made his way to her father’s workroom.

Uncle Ardyn was so weird. That’s why she loved him.

[bnhascribbles]

Compelling

Hawks x Civilian!Reader

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: Swearing

Against your better judgment, you grab your rumbling cell phone from your pocket. When an unfamiliar name flashes across the screen, you sigh and stomp over to the couch, wedging the device between two cushions. You make a mental note to have your number changed.  Again. You don’t even know why you bothered leaving it on anymore. For the past week, it’d been nothing but vultures calling in–gossip-mongers and entertainment journalists trying to make you into their next big story. They didn’t want information. Not really. They wanted a misstep–wanted you to say something incendiary that they could put in print and monetize. Even though they apparently already had all the ammunition they needed to rake in the views, given the headline that’d been circulating across every entertainment outlet for the past 48 hours.

Snatched up! The Winged-Hero is finally spoken for, but is it attraction, or indoctrination?

The attention wasn’t completely unexpected; Beyond hero work and agency stuff, Hawks was a celebrity–society’s darling. You, on the other hand, were a mystery, some unknown face that’d been spotted shoulder-to-shoulder with him at a charity ball. Then again at a modeling gig of his. Then again in photos he’d posted across a few of his social media profiles. As far as the public was concerned, you were just some no-name that’d laid your claim over their most eligible bachelor. 

Still, that didn’t mean you appreciated the (not-so-subtle) jab at your quirk’s less-than-wholesome reputation. Your registration form–probably slid under a news station door by an old employer looking to make a quick buck–didn’t really do you any favors. “Indoctrinate” was a quirk that just sounded like it should belong to a villain. That, coupled with the newfound target on your back, had been enough to instill this idea that you were some sort of evil mastermind, extorting a poor, love-stricken hero for everything he had. Forget the fact that you absolutely loathed being in the public eye. Forget the fact that you’d been an upstanding citizen your entire life, without so much as a parking ticket to mar your perfect record. Forget the fact that Hawks had been the one to dial up the charm after he’d, quite literally, knocked you head-over-heels as he flew after a purse-snatcher (“Man, what are the chances I bump into an angel this close to the ground?”). Even so, addressing the rumors would be even worse than letting people talk. It’d draw more attention to the issue; What might’ve died down in a couple weeks could be drawn out over the course of months if it was handled badly. 

It wasn’t easy hearing everyone talk about how you were manipulating your way into a relationship. The more that people speculated and hypothesized–the more they tried to explain your own quirk as though they were experts on the subject–the easier it began for old scars to burn like new. Gashes ripped wide open by what if’s and maybe’s. 

“Do you think it’s possible for a person to use their quirk without knowing it?” You wonder out loud, throwing yourself back onto the couch. “Like, Endeavor–does he have to think about turning off his flames? Is there a default setting, or is it like a light switch that he has to flick on and off?” 

Hawks freezes in the doorway, his arm only halfway freed from the sleeve of his jacket. “Uhhh, 42?” He scratches at the back of his head, obviously caught off guard by the spur-of-the-moment interrogation. “Shit, is there a test I was supposed to study for?” 

You stretch your back across the armrest, shooting him a pathetic, upside-down smile. “No. Sorry, I’ve just been wondering about a lot of stuff lately.” 

“Thank god.” He shrugs off the rest of his jacket. “But ‘stuff.’ Should that word scare me, chickadee? 

“Nah. I’m just overthinking things, as usual.” Not the entire truth, but not a complete lie either. 

The answer seems to satisfy Hawks though. He hums a little tune as he strides across your living room, plopping down beside you on the couch. Before you even know what’s happening, you’re being dragged by your ankles, then your waist–lifted and twirled until your back is flush with his chest, until you’re trapped in the circle of his arms. You twist in his grip, catching his chin between your fingers just as he’s about to lean in and press his lips to yours. 

“Enthusiastic, are we?” 

He huffs impatiently at your upturned eyebrows. “It’s been a long day.” He pushes against your hold on his face, closing some of the distance, centimeter by centimeter. “A very, very long day.” 

Smirking, you drape your arms over his shoulders. But when your eyes to flutter shut, an all-too-familiar string of words flash across the inside of your eyelids. You can practically hear the middle-aged gossip columnist reciting them as they appear.

It’s an odd match. So odd, that Heroes Global has to ask the question on everyone’s mind...

You turn your face away at the last moment, earning a cheek full of stubble and a throaty grumble that resonates across your skin. Hawks pulls back, narrowing those brilliant eyes of his–perfect and warm, like melted gold. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then there’s a buzz that makes him jump. Unfurling one arm (and only one arm) from your waist, he reaches beneath the two of you and fidgets around until a hand reemerges with your phone, flashing with an unlisted number. 

“Please just hurl it at the wall as hard as you can.” You groan, leaning back into his shoulder. 

His gaze flits between you and the screen, then a crooked, knowing grin stretches across his face. “The lovely people over at Daily Justice still bothering you?” 

“Yup. Them and every other tabloid in the city.” 

He makes a tiny sound in acknowledgment, using his thumb to tap away at the device in his hand. “Still milking the whole brainwashing story?” 

“You know it.” You drone halfheartedly, watching as he tosses your (now silent) phone so that it skids across the coffee table. You’re not the least bit bothered when it slides off the other end and makes the plummet to the carpet. Judging by the lazy way he just watches it happen, Hawks doesn’t think much of it either. 

“And that’s the ‘stuff’ that’s got you all worked up?” He asks. 

 You don’t have an answer, so you sigh, long and heavy.

It was a little more complicated than news stories and gossip. It was fear; There was a reason you’d worn gloves throughout your entire childhood. When a touch was all it took to compel, that was the best way to try and lessen the rumors, to soothe the distrustful glares. Your quirk was evil–that much had been drilled into you since your birth. The day your parents made you remove those thin fabric shields, you’d cried. Not because you were happy to be rid of them–no, you were terrified. Maybe you’d brush fingers with a classmate. Maybe, when that happened, you’d make the mistake of thinking about how you wanted to be friends with them. Maybe then, they’d be indoctrinated–compelled to see you the way you wanted to be seen and not the way you actually were. 

It’d taken a long time for you to stop shying away from casual contact with the people in your life–high-fives, handshakes, hugs. Even then, a couple more years had to pass before you gained the confidence to roll your eyes at the quirk-conspiracists, to brush their theories off as ridiculous. Now, hearing about how unlikely your match with Hawks was, having the idea that it was completely insane drilled into your head at all hours of the day, it was like you were an insecure little kid all over again. What if you didn’t have as much control as you thought you did? 

You swivel in your lover’s arms, planting your knees firmly on either side of his lap. He raises an eyebrow, a little worried by your downturned lips. 

“I want to look at you.” You explain, allowing yourself to settle back into his lap a little bit. “Just sit there and don’t say anything for a minute.” 

“You know I’m no good at that, angel. Wanna tell me w–” 

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “Try. Please.” 

His hold on your middle tightens, but he nods all the same. 

You let your hand drift away from his mouth, tracing its way up the side of his face and brushing a tuft of blonde hair away from his forehead. It sticks up, wild and windswept, even after your best efforts to smooth it down. You deliberately drag both of your hands along his scalp, trying your best not to yank at the fluffy strands that get stuck between your fingers.  Off, you chant in your mind. He doesn’t flinch, watching you, idly pinching at loose bits of your shirt that bunch up along your back. 

You work your way downwards, drawing a straight line between his furrowed eyebrows. He goes cross-eyed trying to follow the trail of your fingers, and you snort, smiling despite yourself. Hawks always had a way of making you do that. You ghost your thumbs over the harsh markings jutting out at the corners of his eyes.  Stop; The word rings in your ears as you concentrate on your fingertips. You’re relieved when nothing happens, when no cloudy haze passes from his face and when no sudden epiphany makes him yank himself away from you. 

You breathe, bending forward, pressing your forehead to his and repeating your final, silent plea.  Please be real.  A trill rumbles deep in his throat, faint and content and coaxing all at once. One of his palms slides a winding path up your back, coming to cup the back your neck. 

“You got your minute.” He coos, looking at you with an expression that you can only describe as soft. “Wanna tell me what’s up?” 

 “It’s just–” You start, but rethink the words halfway through. “I’m not–” You stumble again. What you wanted to say didn’t exactly sound sane.

Hey listen, I’ve got a lot of baggage when it comes to my quirk. Could you repeat the word “yes” if you’re here of your own free will? Oh, and since you’ll probably say that either way and since I’m an emotionally compromised freak, just know that I’ll never actually feel secure in our relationship. This’ll definitely be a recurring thing, and it’s probably gonna be the reason why we end terribly.

You shake your head, pulling away from him to wipe at your eyes. They’re dry, but they feel like they’re burning. 

“You know about my quirk.” You finally say, not quite as firmly as you’d hoped to. “Which means you know that those reporters might have a point. That’s what’s bothering me.” 

He stares for what feels like hours, like he’s waiting for some punchline. When it never comes, he cocks his jaw to the side, speaking slowly. “You being serious?” 

“Yeah, I am.” You don’t hesitate to respond. “I’m not like you–I never got any sort of special training. What if there’s some unconscious kickback from my quirk? What if I had some sort of fantasy about getting with a hero, and then you came along and poof?” You swallow hard. “What if everything you’re thinking and feeling is fake–what if it’s only there because I put it there?” 

Your rant is draining–you barely stop to breathe between sentences. By the time you finish, you’re out of breath and your mouth feels incredibly dry. Still, the silence that follows is enough to make you wish you had more to say. 

Thankfully, Hawks shatters it. “Then honestly, I’m impressed.” He shifts beneath you, poking at the edge of your frown with his fingertip. “You should be working for me.”

Irritated, you swat at his wrist. “I’m not joking around here, Hawks.”

“And I’m not either. From an agency perspective, you’re a dream. You have a quirk with no restrictions. No time limit, no radius of effect,” he scratches at his chin, his smirk reemerging. “Plus, it apparently works at all hours of the day–even when its owner is sleeping. Or piss drunk.” 

And just like that, it happens again–he makes you smile despite the thousands of worries you have. 

You let your jaw hang in mock offense. “I do not get drunk.” 

“Right, you were just high on life Friday when I flew your ass home.” He shoots back, catching your wrist as you’re about to land a playful smack across his chest. 

“But that’s not the point. The point is that there’s never a time when I don’t want you. Now, that could be because you have some fantastic, broken quirk. Or it could be because–get ready for the shocker–I genuinely like you.” He comes in close, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Which option seems more likely?” 

Every part of you seems to relax. Even your brain, once overwhelmed by thousands of thoughts and possibilities, goes silent–put at ease by Hawks’s own personal brand of logic.  

 Taking both sides of his face in your hands, you smoosh his cheeks together until his lips jut outward. He looks more like a fish than a bird, even with the wings to help him out. 

“You talk a lot.” 

He grins wide, and it looks absolutely ridiculous.  “So I’ve been told.” 

“Don’t look happy about it; That mouth of yours is gonna get you into serious trouble someday. 

“Really? I think it’s charming.” 

“Mmmm, that ego could use some work too.” You release your hold on him, shimmying in closer, pressing your chest into his. “How about you do me a favor and zip it for a little while.” 

He peers at you through half-lidded eyes. The kiss he presses to your nose is innocent–short and sweet and unassuming. The words that follow are anything but. 

“Make me.” 

So you do.  You’re pretty compelling, even without using your quirk.

[heartbeatan]

Partition (Chapter 2)

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Yoongi Fanfictions.

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Chapter 2

A few hours ago you were hanging out in a voguish club that had been rented out for an exclusive launch party. The room was filled with big industry names, peers, and the occasional celebrity who decided to join. Attentive wait staff zipped smoothly through the crowd carrying trays of drinks and appetizers.

Two of your colleagues had also attended, but for the most part, you were wandering through the party alone. Your little talk show production didn’t tend to warrant a lot of mainstream attention, but it had done well enough that most guests knew who you were even though tonight was the first time you were formally meeting. The event had been a great opportunity to network, but the alcohol had begun to take over the atmosphere and no one wanted to talk shop anymore. Although you were a bit of an outsider, you were confident that you could make friends, however, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to expel the energy. The week had been long and busy, so a big part of you just wanted to go home and relax and not wake up with a hangover the next day.

You were standing on the second level, surveying the room below and sipping a glass of wine when a woman's voice startled you.

“He’s here!” your colleague and friend, suddenly appeared.

“Who’s here?”

“Don’t be coy, you know who I’m talking about.” You didn’t - but you figured it out as soon as you saw him step through the doors and onto the landing. The site of him gave you butterflies. You watched him warmly greet several people before he headed off in the direction of the booths. Min Yoongi.

On TV he was always charismatic and handsome, but now that you were able to see him in the flesh you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he truly was - not just in terms of raw looks… he had a certain aura that was quite sexy.

“Do you mean him?” you asked, nodding in his direction.

“Yes, of course. Who else would I be talking about?” she rolled her eyes. You could have argued with her about how there were many people in this room you would have been interested to meet, but you decide not too as you knew precisely why she was excited about him.

The rumor mill had been buzzing with the news. Apparently, he was a fan of your show and, in particular, of you. He allegedly had been asking around about how the two of you could meet. You assumed it had just been another inaccurate, out of context, ridiculous rumor, but, some of your staff had run with the idea either as a joke or in genuine hope that a wild romance between the two of you would occur which they could gossip about. Regardless, it was titillating to think that there was an off chance he was secretly (or not so secretly) pining over you.

You watched him confidently cross the room as he continued to greet others along the way. He made it to one of the V.I.P. areas which was filled with media personalities in expensive suits. After making pleasantries, he turned and began to scan the faces in the room before him.

“He’s looking for someone,” she gave you a nudge. It was your turn to roll your eyes. She was right though - he did seem to be looking for someone or something. Eventually he looked up to check out the second level. His gaze crossed the upper floor until his eyes arrived on you. You quickly glanced somewhere else, hoping he didn’t notice that you were watching him, but you could see in your periphery that he hadn’t moved. In fact, you were sure he was still looking right at you. After a moment you glanced back and your eyes locked with his. He dipped his hands into his pockets and gave you a casual, crooked grin. It was a mischievous expression - as if you two had a secret. You weren’t sure if it was the result of him also hearing the rumors and finding them amusing, or if it was because the rumors were true. The uncertainty made you a little uncomfortable so you turned your back to face your friend and took a comforting gulp of your drink.

“He’s looking right at you,” she exclaimed. “I knew it was true.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Stop staring, he’s going to think I’m asking you to spy on him for me.”

“I am spying on him for you - just not at your request. Oh, he’s going somewhere…” You fought the urge to turn around and watch him. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Why would I do anything?”

“Give me a break. Tell me you haven’t thought about it?”

“Nope.” You took another sip. It was a lie. You did have a crush on him - although, you had never actually met, so at best you could call it a celebrity crush. He was endearing. He acted, he was a music artist, a radio DJ, he did a lot of charity work, a lot of community work, he was an art collector, he played basketball, he was an adventurist - hell, his list of hobbies and interests seemed to change more sporadically than yours did, which you didn’t think was even possible. Personality wise, as best you could tell anyway, he was charming, polite, open-minded and he seemed genuine. Intelligent, but, obscurely so - a bit of a weirdo, but in a good way.

Before the rumors, you didn’t really think about him, but whenever he was appearing on TV or in a magazine interview you were sure to tune in. Once you had heard the rumors, however, he was on your mind even when he wasn’t on your TV screen. You spent a many evenings doing the ménage à moi while fantasizing about him. You had imagined a sultry, sexy first encounter if you ever crossed paths. Perhaps a coat room, or a tucked away corner of a studio. Your fantasies always placed the two of you somewhere risky and elicit - he struck you as that type of lover.

Regardless, that was all fun in your head - this was reality.

The evening rolled on and you spent it conversing with various partygoers and getting buzzed on a few more drinks. By 10 o’clock you had managed to meet almost everyone of importance, but your desire to leave the party early had for some reason subsided - there was still one more person somewhere in the club you were pretending not to look for.

Nature finally called, so you made your way towards the restrooms. As you crossed the floor, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You looked up in their direction and, for the second time that night, you locked eyes with the sexy man you had only ever seen on TV and met in your fantasies. Unlike you had earlier, he didn’t dart his eyes away when you caught him staring. He held your gaze. His face was very handsome and inviting and there was something about the way he looked at you that made your insides tingle slightly. For a moment, you got lost in the exchange but were knocked out of your trance when you bumped shoulders with another guest passing by.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said before you ducked into the restroom. You felt your face flush with a bit of embarrassment.

When you exited one of the stalls, you we’re greeted by your friend again who was freshening up in the mirror.

“So, how is your night going?” she was trying to imply something. “Have you spoken to him yet?”

“No, I haven’t seen him at all.” She paused and smiled at you through the reflection in the mirror. She picked up on the fact that you had actually been thinking about him. “Well… he’s definitely seen you. He’s been watching you all night.” She handed you her tube of concealer, prompting you to clean yourself up.

Her revelation gave you a rush of excitement and you turned your head to look directly at her. “How do you know that?Have you been watching him this whole time?”

“Yes,” she was unapologetic. “Please, go flirt with him. Let me live vicariously through you! I need this.”

You laughed. “Why don’t you just go flirt with him without me as your buffer?” You returned the tube and shuffled through your bag for your on-the-go products.

“I would, but he doesn’t know who I am and it’s you he wants.”

“We’ve been here for hours. If he was really interested, he would have approached me by now. Your theory is bunk.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know. The night is still young. Let’s get back out there and find out.” You rolled your eyes as you finished up and repacked your purse.

You gossiped about the nights hot topics as you exited the rest room. Who was too drunk, who was too candid, who was flirting - all the juicy events that happen when the alcohol really flows. Upon re-entering the main room, you heard a voice call out in your direction.

“Hi.” You looked up and saw a man leaning against the railing looking at you. You stopped in your tracks when you realized it was him. Your friend forced a cough as a cheeky acknowledgement of your conversation from moments ago.

“Hi,” you responded somewhat dumbfounded. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, amused by your bewilderment.

“Hi! I’m a big fan!” your friend shook his hand and gave him a bright smile.

“Oh, thank-you,” he returned with a warm greeting.

“You know who this is, of course.” She gestured towards you. “We were both really looking forward to meeting you tonight.” He looked back at you at you as she says this.

Bitch.

“Really?” he asked, almost rhetorically. “Well, I’m a big fan of yours.” He reached out to shake your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You clasped his outstretched hand. His grip was polite but you could feel the strength he had in his hands, and you noticed how beautiful and masculine his long fingers were. For a moment you thought about what they could do to you. That thought combined with the sensation of this first touch sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. You shook off the thought and looked up to meet his gaze, but that didn’t help. He had a glint in his eye that made you feel… something. Like he desired you… as if he wanted to take you right then and there in front of all those people - and that you might have let him if he tried.

He turned to your friend. “Do you mind if I steal her away for a bit?”

“Oh no, not at all!” she replied, all to enthusiastically. “In fact, keep her. Make sure she has a good time. She has nothing to do after this… or tomorrow, by the way.”

Fired.

You watched her skip off back into the crowd as she bid you a good night. You turned back towards him and he nodded in the direction of the bar. He placed his hand onto your lower back to guide you there. Another pulse crossed over your flesh under the heat of his palm. You winced slightly, annoyed that you were so easily turned on by this stranger.

You reached the bar and took a seat next to each other. He turned his chair so he could face you. Trying to be cool but not too inviting, you turned yours somewhat to face him.

“I heard you were going to be here tonight,” he said. “I was hoping it was true. It’s about time we met.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” You wanted to kick yourself for that response. Firstly, you were too flirtatious, and secondly, you weren’t sure what kind of response you’d get or how you’d handle it.

“Because I want to take you home with me.” You choked when he said this.

I guess they weren’t simply rumours after all.

“You’re so forward. What makes you think I want to go home with you?” you smirked. Again, your inner flirt was making an appearance. Something about his proximity to you made her come out uninvited.

Keep your panties on, girl. You drew your lips between your teeth at the thought of your panties in relation to him. He’d probably pull them off of you with his teeth.

“Nothing. I don’t know if you want to.” He brushed his thumb across your lower lip, acknowledging your grip on it. You quickly released it. “But what I know of you, you’re an honesty-is-the-best-policy kind of person.”

“You don’t know me… at all.” You cocked your eyebrow.

“No. But, I want to get to know you.”

“Really? Because it seems as if you just want to sleep with me.”

He smiled. “Sleep with you feels like an understatement of the things I want to do to you.” Your nether region tingled.

Damn it, why is what he’s doing working?

He continued in a more serious, but still flirtatious, tone. “But I do want to get to know you. I’ll wait. Whatever you need, I’ll do. I’ll take you out. We can have dinner, drinks, go to the movies… If you don’t come home with me tonight, my interest in you won’t end.” He ran one of his fingers around the rim of his glass. You watched it softly circle around and around again. A simple action, but somehow it felt sexual and arousing. “I just don’t want to waste any time.”

Oh, please. Give me a break. You rolled your eyes no way believing he was sincere. He wants sex. Plain and simple. This is insta-lust, not insta-love. Regardless, when you looked back at him the hunger in his gaze was clear, and it made you not really care if it was just a big line to get you between the sheets. The last rendezvous you had with a man was over a year ago. Since then, you’ve been rendezvousing with battery powered objects. You were needy to feel the weight of someone on you and the heat of their skin brushing up against yours… or really just anything solid against you - the lamppost outside your apartment complex was looking pretty good to you at this point. At least he was a solid object that you had chemistry with.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“No.” you responded. “But I’m still intrigued.”

His smile stretched a bit further. “Good.” He pulled his phone out of his breast pocket and gestured for yours. You handed it to him and he entered in his number and called himself so he would have yours. When he was done, he handed it back.

“There.” he said. “So, what will it be? Should I call you tomorrow or should I call my driver?”

You stared at each other for a moment while you considered his proposition. You wanted to go home with him. He was alluring, confident, a little dangerous - whatever it was about him that was seducing you, you wanted to give in. You weren’t sure if he was genuine when he said he’d wait for you and take you out on a proper date. Even if he did, you may not end up liking each other by the end of it, and maybe wouldn’t get the opportunity to have the great sex you had imagined you would have together. This was the sexy first encounter you had imagined - how often does one get to live theirs? You took another sip of your drink and licked the liquor off your lips before turning to give him your answer.

Fuck it, you thought. “Call your driver.”

[primatechnosynthpop]

A Rose Shall Bloom (And Then Shall Fade)- part 2

The first few months after Claire and Gretchen got married were one of the brightest times in Claire’s life. The job at the restaurant Claire had taken to afford their wedding was better-paying and less demanding than retail, so she started working as a waitress full-time. With her increased salary, and after holding a yard sale to get rid of old stuff they didn’t need anymore, she and Gretchen were finally able to afford their own house by the end of the year. It was nothing fancy–only one story, with a tiny yard and no garage–but it was theirs nonetheless. For the first time in her life, Claire felt like a real adult. She had a house, a wife, a job, a car… Despite her youthful appearance, nobody could mistake her for a teenager now.

They invited a bunch of their friends over for a combination housewarming and anniversary party, during which Claire was still so happy about buying a house that she didn’t pay attention to how much everyone was aging. Still, to say she did a double take would be an understatement when she saw Micah and Molly, now a pair of fully grown adults, talking in the corner of the room about Micah’s job as an electrician. That… that couldn’t be right, could it? But when Claire ran some mental math, she realized that the numbers worked out. Micah must have been in his mid twenties now, since Claire, as much as she didn’t look it, was in her early thirties.

At that same housewarming party, Peter approached her with a huge grin on his face. In recent years, he had retired his signature bangs for a more sophisticated look, and he’d grown a beard which gave him quite a handsome look. He wore a sharply-pressed suit and carried himself in a way that almost reminded Claire of Nathan. It occurred to her with a twinge of discomfort that he was now the age his brother had been when he died.

“Hey, Claire, guess what?” Peter asked, excitement glittering in his eyes. “You’re going to have a cousin!”

“What?” As she realized what he was saying, Claire broke into a grin. “You and Emma are going to have a kid? Peter, that’s great!”

“Yeah,” he said, his face looking like it just might break from how wide he was smiling. “I’m going to be a dad–can you believe it?”

Letting out an enthusiastic squeal, Claire pulled her uncle into a congratulatory hug. He laughed and patted her on the back. When they pulled apart, Claire bounced on her heels, buzzing with questions–how many months? How long had they known? Did they know whether it would be male or female? And did this mean that Peter and Emma would finally be getting married?

“Unfortunately, no,” he said of the last question. “If she gets married, she’ll stop getting disability benefits, so until the laws on that are changed we’ll just have to remain in a commonlaw arrangement.”

“Well, that sucks,” Claire muttered.

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, it kind of does,” he admitted. “But there’s nothing wrong with an unmarried partnership, right?”

Claire nodded. Her gaze strayed across the room, to where Gretchen was talking to Noah. He appeared to be congratulating her. As she watched, Gretchen looked over at Claire and blew her a kiss, winking. Claire blushed and giggled. She wondered whether they would have kids of their own someday. She certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea of adopting, although she didn’t feel ready for something like that quite yet. Besides, she didn’t really feel like she could ever be a parent. She still looked like hardly more than a kid herself.

“Damn it,” she muttered aloud to herself. “I told myself I wasn’t going to think about this tonight.”

“What is it?” asked Peter.

“Oh, nothing,” Claire said, maybe a bit too quickly, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Anyway, congrats again on being a future dad. You and Emma are going to be amazing parents.”

Peter grinned. “Thanks, Claire.”

Claire had it all right then. She was happy, and so were the people around her. Sandra had just adopted another dog, Mohinder was doing quite well for himself now that his theories were more widely accented, and Matt’s son was going to be starting high school in a couple of years. Sure, everybody was getting older, but nobody was old yet. Claire still had plenty of time left to spend with everyone at that party. She needed to stop worrying about things to come and just live in the present.

It was a good–no, it was a great day.

-

After Peter and Emma had their kid–a girl, which they named Natalie–Gretchen started acting kind of strangely. Whenever Natalie was mentioned, she would raise her eyebrows in an exaggerated way, and she would always talk about her with an odd inflection. It seemed like she was hinting at something, and Claire was fairly certain she knew what it was.

“So, big news from Peter,” Claire said once after reading a text from her uncle. “Natalie has officially entered elementary school!”

“Ohh, has she?” Gretchen asked, bending over to read the text over Claire’s shoulder. She was carrying a laundry basket upstairs, balancing it on her hip like some kind of old-fashioned servant girl, as Claire lounged on the couch after having finished cleaning the windows. “That’s awesome! I guess having kids can really be rewarding, hmm?”

“Yeah, I guess it can,” Claire agreed. “Why do you bring it up?”

“Oh, no reason,” Gretchen said with a shrug. Gesturing to the laundry basket with her free hand, she added, “Hey, can you held me fold this? I know you just got done cleaning the windows, but…”

“Nah, it’s no problem,” Claire said. She put her phone down and got up to follow her wife up to their bedroom to fold the clothes.

As they walked up the stairs to their room, Claire noticed a slight strain of effort on Gretchen’s face. That very face was now decorated with stress lines, and she had heavy bags around her eyes. Swallowing back the now all-too-familiar pang of dread at her wife displaying signs of the natural passage of time, Claire stood up on her tiptoes to give Gretchen a kiss on the side of the head. Then she took the laundry basket into her own hands and carried it the rest of the way.

While they were folding the laundry and putting it away, Gretchen kept shooting Claire these brief, soft of hopeful looks. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really have to. Claire could tell from the way she acted whenever Natalie was mentioned that Gretchen wanted them to have kids of their own. However, Claire still didn’t feel ready for that kind of commitment, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would be. Taking care of a child was such a big responsibility, and neither of them had the time to commit to that. If either Claire or Gretchen quit their jobs to stay home and looks after a baby, they’d no longer make enough money to afford their house, and then the cost of looking after the kid would pile on top of that… it just wasn’t realistic for them.

Claire explained all of this to Gretchen, and Gretchen nodded along and said “oh, yeah, I totally get it,” and promised to drop the point. However, the point wasn’t dropped, at least not for long. She kept having the same reactions whenever anybody mentioned children. Claire didn’t hold it against Gretchen, really; it was clear as day to her that her wife’s desire for kids wasn’t going to be quelled that easily. She just wished Gretchen would understand why Claire didn’t want kids. The financial reasons were a big part of it, but it went beyond that. See, if Claire ever had a kid–either through giving birth or adoption–that kid would grow up, and become an adult, and eventually it would get to the point where her own child would appear older than her. And then, one day, that child would grow old, like her parents were growing old now. One day, Claire would outlive her own child, if she ever had one. She couldn’t bear to think of that, and so she was determined never to have a child in the first place.

Once, when Claire was out for coffee with Tracy–something they still did from time to time even now that they no longer worked together–Tracy offhandedly mentioned that Micah had gotten a girlfriend and that they were pretty serious together. Claire asked if Tracy was ever going to settle down with anyone, but Tracy laughed and said that, as happy as she was for her nephew, she didn’t particularly care for romantic relationships. She went on to say that she especially didn’t want to ever be a mother.

“I mean, I love Micah, but the Dawsons did so much better a job raising him after his mom died than I ever could have,” she said. “Everybody says that my biological clock is ticking, but I say let it tick away. I don’t need a spouse or children to have a fulfilling life.”

Claire did her best not to flinch at the mention of a “biological clock”. Although it was hard to tell with the hair already being almost a platinum blonde, there were a few streaks of gray in Tracy’s hair now, and she was far from alone in this regard. She had a few wrinkles here and there which she covered up with concealer, and while she was still poised and elegant even as she reached middle age, Claire wondered right then if it would be a good idea for them to stop going for coffee together. She didn’t like having to look at people on a regular basis and watch the painstakingly slow transition of them getting older.

However, she quickly dismissed that thought. She regretted having deliberately slowed herself down when Angela was dying so she didn’t have to watch it happen. She wished now that she’d been there to spend a final moment with Angela. Fear of watching people age and, eventually, die… it would plague Claire all her life, however long that life proved to be, but running away wasn’t a solution. Only Hiro could control time, and even he was reluctant to meddle with the space-time continuum. Even so, that didn’t mean that Claire was going to enjoy watching her friends get progressively older. She didn’t enjoy it at all.

-

As the years went by, Claire talked to her parents less and less often. She and Gretchen had settled comfortably in at their house, and even a man as protective as Noah could clearly see that she didn’t need him watching over her like a hawk any longer. Still, he and Sandra called Claire from time to time to check up on her and make sure she was holding up all right.

One time, Claire was halfway through a phone call with Sandra when the sound of barking came through over the phone. The barking was met with an “oh, quiet, you!” which brought Claire an unexpected pang of nostalgia. She said it with the exact same inflection she had used to tell off Mr. Muggles when he’d chew on someone’s shoelaces.

“What’s the name of the dog you’ve got now, again?” Claire asked. She felt a but guilty about having forgotten, but it was hard to keep track sometimes. “Was it Lord Dufferton or something?”

There was an unexpected pause. Claire listened to the faint sound of her mother’s breath crackle over the phone. Sandra’s voice had grown frail and shaky over the years, but it still held plenty of personality. Claire had no idea why her mother wasn’t answering her. Surely she hadn’t forgotten the name of her own dog.

“Your dog,” Claire prompted her after a moment. “What’s it called again?”

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” Sandra asked, concern edging her voice. “You know what our dog’s name is.”

“Mom, I don’t…” Claire quirked her mouth into a frown. “Mom, I’m talking about the dog you have now. The, ah, the dachshund?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sandra insisted. Now she sounded confused, almost scared. “Mr. Muggles is the only dog we’ve got. We don’t have any other dogs.”

A knot tightened at the back of Claire’s throat as she realized what was happening. Still, she put up a wall of denial and pressed on. If she just said the right thing, surely she’d trigger her mother’s memory.

“Look at the dog in front of you,” she said. “It’s not Mr. Muggles, Mom. It’s a different dog.”

There was another pause. Sandra drew in a sharp breath. Then:

“I… I’m sorry, Claire,” she mumbled. “I don’t know what came over me there. Wh-what were we talking about again?”

“Oh, you know,” Claire said with a forced laugh. “I’m sure it was nothing important.”

Once her conversation with Sandra was over, Claire hung up with trembling hands. She laid her phone facedown on the kitchen counter and took a few deep breaths. Then she picked the phone back up and called Noah.

As soon as her father picked up, she blurted, “Something’s wrong with Mom.”

“Claire?” Noah asked; he sounded alert, but his voice was less sharp than Claire expected. “What’s the matter?”

“You haven’t had René take any of her memories, have you?” she asked. Deep down she knew this wasn’t the reason for Sandra’s confusion, but she could hope–at least until Noah’s answer came.

“No, of course not,” he said. “Why would you think that? What happened?”

“I just got off the phone with her,” Claire sighed. “She forgot that she has a new dog. She thought it was Mr. Muggles.”

“Well, shit,” Noah muttered. He hesitated for a moment before saying in a quiet voice, “something happened like that earlier when I was talking to her. She thought that we were still married.”

Claire swallowed hard. Sandra didn’t seem like she was old enough to start losing her memory yet. Nothing like this was happening to Noah yet–at least not with his long-term memory. He did have trouble remembering newer names and faces, but that didn’t mean anything. Everyone got stuff like that mixed up sometimes. Sandra forgetting that she and Noah were divorced, though, even momentarily… that was a problem.

“I don’t like what’s going on, Dad,” Claire said quietly, as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “You and Mom are aging so fast, and look at me–I look just like I did fifteen years ago!”

“I know, Claire-bear,” Noah murmured. “But growing older is just a part of life. It’ll happen to you too eventually.:

"No, it won’t!” Claire lamented. “That’s the whole problem! Everybody else is getting older, and I’m not!”

“Claire–” Noah began, but Claire cut him off, getting increasingly worked up as she finally expressed the feelings of desperation and anxiety that had been building up inside her for so long.

“I don’t want to outlive everyone, Dad! I want to look like an adult! I-I’m thirty-five, almost thirty-six, and… and I’d still fit in my old cheerleading uniform! I want to get older like everyone else does. I want…” She sucked in a breath, wiping away tears that she hadn’t even realized were streaming down her cheeks. “I want to be able to grow old with my wife.”

Noah was silent for a long moment. She heard him sigh, and when he finally spoke up again, there was no forced reassurance in his voice. More than anything, he sounded tired. Tired and old.

“I’ll see what I can do about Sandra,” he said. “In the meantime… just take care of yourself, okay?”

-

It wasn’t long after Sandra’s memory started to go that Noah followed suit. He retired from work and, soon after, got his driver’s license revoked. Sandra’s physical and mental condition deteriorated faster, and before long, she was deemed unfit to look after herself. A nurse had to come in to assist her with certain things. Claire was wracked with concern for her mother. One night she called up Lyle, who she hadn’t talked to in years, to discuss the issue of their parents. Lyle didn’t have much to say; he didn’t even really seem to care. His voice was so deep now that it was unnerving, and she wondered if he still had the horrible goatee he’d had the last time they’d seen each other. Claire started to ask him about work, but then she realized she didn’t even know what her brother’s job was.

“We should talk more,” she said. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of hard to find time,” Lyle muttered. In the background, Claire could hear the muffled sounds of drums and yelling. “Travelling around with the band and all–I get busy, y'know?”

So he was in a band. There wasn’t much to talk about in Claire’s life, and judging by the awkward pause on the other end of the line, Lyle wasn’t too enthusiastic about telling her about his. Clearing her throat, Claire decided to try to keep the conversation going.

“So, Natalie got an award from the spelling bee,” she said. “She came in third place overall. Peter and Emma are super proud.”

“Uh, who’s Natalie?”

“That’s their kid,” she reminded him. She’d texted him pictures of her cousin before; he should have known who she was. Maybe he just didn’t care. “She’s in fifth grade now, if you can believe it.”

“Huh,” was all Lyle had to say, followed a moment later by “wow.”

“Wow is right,” Claire muttered.

Part of her resented her brother for being so distant. Part of her resented herself for having let them grow so far apart. But most of her just sighed in resignation, told Lyle it had been nice talking to him, and ended the call.

-

From time to time, Claire tried to turn her situation on its head and use it to have a little fun. Whenever a new customer came to the restaurant she worked at, she would ask them to guess her age. Guesses ranged from “uhh… sixteen?” to “I dunno, twenty-something?” She always loved the looks the customers got when she told them she was forty.

One day, the bell on the restaurant’s door chimed and a man in a dark hoodie walked in, glancing around furtively. He had his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Rather than finding a seat, he just stood there in the doorway for a while, scoping the place out. Claire felt a twinge of nervousness at the sight of this man, but she put on a cheery customer service smile and approached him with a menu in hand.

“Hi, can I help you?” she asked, offering him the menu. Looking at him up close, he just looked like a normal guy, but she knew from experience that looks couldn’t always be trusted.

Without saying a word, the man smirked and took his hands out of his pockets. Claire realized with a jolt of horror that one of those hands held a gun. She took a step back, breath hitching in her throat, and slowly raised her hands in the air. The restaurant fell into a hush as all the eyes in the building turned to the man with the gun. Glancing behind her, Claire saw her manager coming out from the kitchen, his eyes wide in fear.

“Give me all the money you’ve got in your register,” the man snarled to the manager, pointing his gun at Claire. “Or this girl gets it.”

Claire gulped. When she’d been hired, she hadn’t told anybody about her power. She had assumed they would know, since she’d been all over the news as the first person to reveal their powers to the outside world. However, looking behind her, her manager looked genuinely terrified for her–he must not have known she could heal. He started reaching for the cash register.

“No, don’t,” Claire blurted. “Don’t give him the money. It’s not worth it.”

“Give me the money!” the man with the gun barked. He cocked his gun and placed the barrel right up against Claire’s chest while she stood her ground, unafraid for her own safety but terrified that he might hurt a customer or one of her coworkers. “Give it to me now or I’ll kill her!”

“O-okay, you can have the money,” the manager said, panic edging his voice as he rifled through the register and pulled out wads of cash. “Just don’t hurt Ms. Bennet, please. She hasn’t done anything to you!”

“No, don’t give him anything,” Claire protested. “Put the money back on the register; don’t give it to him!”

The manager hesitated.

“Ten seconds,” the robber snarled. “Ten, nine, eight…”

“Don’t give him the money!”

“Seven, six, five, four…’

"I’ll be fine,” she said. Around her, customers scooted their chairs back; parents covered their children’s eyes and told them to look away, and young couples clenched each other’s hands with white knuckles. “Don’t–”

“…Three, two one,” the robber finished with a snarl. He pulled the trigger.

Claire was propelled back by the force as four consecutive shots rang out, echoing through the restaurant with a bang. She couldn’t feel pain, but looking down at her chest cavity riddled with holes wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight. She fell to the floor as horrified gasps sprang up around the restaurant. These gasps then turned to murmurs of disbelief as Claire’s decimated chest continued to rise and fall. Even the man who had shot her let out a startled grunt when she returned his gaze from her splayed-out position on the floor.

Groaning, Claire dug around inside her chest until she found the bullets and pulled them out. Then, sitting up, she did her best to slide everything back into place as her breastbone knitted itself back into one piece. Debris from her heart and lungs littered the floor around her along with blood and a few fragments of bone. It made for an all-around gruesome sight, and she seriously pitied the janitor who would have to clean it all up. In the back, her manager watched with eyes wide in amazement as she stood up and smoothed out her now-tattered uniform.

“Hey, here’s a fun tip for you next time you want to take a hostage,” she said. “Try picking someone who doesn’t have healing powers.”

With that, she grabbed the robber by the wrist and wrenched the gun out if his grip. He let go of it surprisingly easily, and he stared blankly ahead in shock, much like many of the other people in the restaurant, as her manager grabbed the nearest phone and dialed the police.

While they stood outside watching the cops take the robber away, Claire turned to her manager with an attempt at a playful smile. “So, some afternoon, huh?”

“Y-you could say that, yes,” her manager agreed. He kept looking Claire up and down, like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that she was still alive. “So… you’re immortal, huh? Can’t be killed?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” she said. She decided not to tell him that her head was her achilles’ heel. It wasn’t like she thought her manager was ever going to turn on her or anything, but she didn’t want to give out such personal information to anyone who didn’t need to know it.

“So you aren’t lying about being forty?”

Claire shook her head. Sometimes she wished she was lying, and it was just a funny joke she was playing on the customers, but she truly had been born four decades ago. It was easy to forget this when she looked at herself in the mirror, but not so much when she looked at Gretchen and saw streaks of gray in her wife’s hair and age spots forming on her face.

For her act of bravery, Claire was promoted from a waitress to assistant manager. She was beyond flattered, and she promised to do her best in her new position. Now that she had a higher salary, she considered buying some kind of pet. Sandra was on her fourth or fifth dog now–it was hard to keep track–and whenever Claire visited her she always talked about how nice it was to have a pet. She often got her pets mixed up, and sometimes she forgot who she was talking to or what she was saying mid-sentence, but her older memories from her days as professional dog breeder stayed mostly intact, and she shared them with Claire often.

Having a pet sounded fun, and she thought it might serve as sort of a compromise with Gretchen vis-á-vis children. Gretchen liked the idea, so over the weekend they went to the local pound to look for a potential dog or cat to adopt. While they were looking, a woman at the poind came up to them and asked Gretchen something. It was a simple phrase, just a brief string of words, but they sent a chill down Claire’s spine.

“So,” the worker said with a nod towards Claire, “how old is your daughter?”

[salty-medley]

After all that time wondering what those strange 5 letters personality things meaned...

EDIT :  I didn’t know this thing could have so much reactions ( don’t laugh, you tumblr celebrity who have 13258 comments at each post, 1 comment is a lot for me ! ) and be se more seriously than the random personality test you could find in any feminine magazine. So to be clear : NO I don’t take any test seriously, as I said in the comments if it fits it’s cool, if not well... It’s ok too. But that post revealed something I already know : lot of people took everything too seriously. All the things which are in bold are true for me. Coincidence ? Maybe. But seriously who cares ? And it taught me something: if you want to have comments, just put “ #16 personalities” in the tags, it worked well today.

I jumped on it instead of working. Jk it’s my break time.

So apparently I’m a INTP - T , or a “Logician“, an analyst .

“  LOGICIAN PERSONALITY (INTP, -A/-T)Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.The Logician personality type is fairly rare, making up only three percent of the population, which is definitely a good thing for them, as there’s nothing they’d be more unhappy about than being “common”. Logicians pride themselves on their inventiveness and creativity, their unique perspective and vigorous intellect. Usually known as the philosopher, the architect, or the dreamy professor, Logicians have been responsible for many scientific discoveries throughout history.Logicians are known for their brilliant theories and unrelenting logic – in fact, they are considered the most logically precise of all the personality types.They love patterns, and spotting discrepancies between statements could almost be described as a hobby, making it a bad idea to lie to a Logician. This makes it ironic that Logicians’ word should always be taken with a grain of salt – it’s not that they are dishonest, but people with the Logician personality type tend to share thoughts that are not fully developed, using others as a sounding board for ideas and theories in a debate against themselves rather than as actual conversation partners.This may make them appear unreliable, but in reality no one is more enthusiastic and capable of spotting a problem, drilling through the endless factors and details that encompass the issue and developing a unique and viable solution than Logicians – just don’t expect punctual progress reports. People who share the Logician personality type aren’t interested in practical, day-to-day activities and maintenance, but when they find an environment where their creative genius and potential can be expressed, there is no limit to the time and energy Logicians will expend in developing an insightful and unbiased solution.Wisdom Begins in Wonder They may appear to drift about in an unending daydream, but Logicians’ thought process is unceasing, and their minds buzz with ideas from the moment they wake up. This constant thinking can have the effect of making them look pensive and detached, as they are often conducting full-fledged debates in their own heads, but really Logicians are quite relaxed and friendly when they are with people they know, or who share their interests. However, this can be replaced by overwhelming shyness when Logician personalities are among unfamiliar faces, and friendly banter can quickly become combative if they believe their logical conclusions or theories are being criticized.When Logicians are particularly excited, the conversation can border on incoherence as they try to explain the daisy-chain of logical conclusions that led to the formation of their latest idea. Oftentimes, Logicians will opt to simply move on from a topic before it’s ever understood what they were trying to say, rather than try to lay things out in plain terms.The reverse can also be true when people explain their thought processes to Logicians in terms of subjectivity and feeling. Imagine an immensely complicated clockwork, taking in every fact and idea possible, processing them with a heavy dose of creative reasoning and returning the most logically sound results available – this is how the Logician mind works, and this type has little tolerance for an emotional monkey-wrench jamming their machines.Let Those Who Would Move the World First Move ThemselvesFurther, Logicians are unlikely to understand emotional complaints at all, and their friends won’t find a bedrock of emotional support in them. People with the Logician personality type would much rather make a series of logical suggestions for how to resolve the underlying issue, a perspective that is not always welcomed by their more sensitive companions. This will likely extend to most social conventions and goals as well, like planning dinners and getting married, as Logicians are far more concerned with originality and efficient results.The one thing that really holds Logicians back is their restless and pervasive fear of failure. Logician personalities are so prone to reassessing their own thoughts and theories, worrying that they’ve missed some critical piece of the puzzle, that they can stagnate, lost in an intangible world where their thoughts are never truly applied. Overcoming this self-doubt stands as the greatest challenge Logicians are likely to face, but the intellectual gifts – big and small – bestowed on the world when they do makes it worth the fight.

Strenghs

Great Analysts and Abstract Thinkers – People with the Logician personality type view the world as a big, complex machine, and recognize that as with any machine, all parts are interrelated. Logicians excel in analyzing these connections, seeing how seemingly unrelated factors tie in with each other in ways that bewilder most other personality types.

Imaginative and Original – These connections are the product of an unrelenting imagination – Logicians’ ideas may seem counter-intuitive at a glance, and may never even see the light of day, but they will always prove remarkable innovations.

Open-Minded – Logicians couldn’t make these connections if they thought they knew it all – they are highly receptive to alternate theories, so long as they’re supported by logic and facts. In more subjective matters like social norms and traditions, Logicians are usually fairly liberal, with a “none of my business” sort of attitude – peoples’ ideas are what matter.

Enthusiastic – When a new idea piques their interest, Logicians can be very enthusiastic – they are a reserved personality type, but if another person shares an interest, they can be downright excited about discussing it. More likely though, the only outward evidence of this enthusiasm will be Logicians’ silent pacing or their staring into the distance.

Objective – Logicians’ analysis, creativity and open-mindedness aren’t the tools of some quest for ideology or emotional validation. Rather, it’s as though people with the Logician personality type are a conduit for the truths around them, so far as they can be expressed, and they are proud of this role as theoretical mediator.

Honest and Straightforward – To know one thing and say another would be terribly disingenuous – Logicians don’t often go around intentionally hurting feelings, but they believe that the truth is the most important factor, and they expect that to be appreciated and reciprocated.

Weaknesses

Very Private and Withdrawn – While Logicians’ intellectualism yields many insights into their surroundings, their surroundings are ironically considered an intrusion on their thoughts. This is especially true with people – Logicians are quite shy in social settings. More complicated situations such as parties exacerbate this, but even close friends struggle to get into Logicians’ hearts and minds.

Insensitive – Oftentimes Logician personalities get so caught up in their logic that they forget any kind of emotional consideration – they dismiss subjectivity as irrational and tradition as an attempt to bar much-needed progress. Purely emotional situations are often utterly puzzling to Logicians, and their lack of timely sympathy can easily offend.

Absent-minded – When Logicians’ interest is captured, their absence goes beyond social matters to include the rest of the physical world. Logicians become forgetful, missing even the obvious if it’s unrelated to their current infatuation, and they can even forget their own health, skipping meals and sleep as they muse.

Condescending – Attempts at connecting with others are often worse than Logicians’ withdrawal. People with the Logician personality type take pride in their knowledge and rationale, and enjoy sharing their ideas, but in trying to explain how they got from A to B to Z, they can get frustrated, sometimes simplifying things to the point of insult as they struggle to gauge their conversation partners’ perspective. The ultimate insult comes as Logicians give up with a dismissive “never mind”.

Loathe Rules and Guidelines – These social struggles are partly a product of Logicians’ desire to bypass the rules, of social conduct and otherwise. While this attitude helps Logicians’ strength of unconventional creativity, it also causes them to reinvent the wheel constantly and to shun security in favor of autonomy in ways that can compromise both.

Second-Guess Themselves – Logicians remain so open to new information that they often never commit to a decision at all. This applies to their own skills as well – Logician personalities know that as they practice, they improve, and any work they do is second-best to what they could do. Unable to settle for this, Logicians sometimes delay their output indefinitely with constant revisions, sometimes even quitting before they ever begin.

And it finally gives...

Mind 83% introvert  Introverted individuals prefer solitary activities and get exhausted by social interaction. They tend to be quite sensitive to external stimulation (e.g. sound, sight or smell) in general.

Energy 69 % intuitive  Intuitive individuals are very imaginative, open-minded and curious. They prefer novelty over stability and focus on hidden meanings and future possibilities.

Nature 86% thinking  Thinking individuals focus on objectivity and rationality, prioritizing logic over emotions. They tend to hide their feelings and see efficiency as more important than cooperation.

Tactics 87% prospecting  Prospecting individuals are very good at improvising and spotting opportunities. They tend to be flexible, relaxed nonconformists who prefer keeping their options open.

Identity 72% turbulent  Turbulent individuals are self-conscious and sensitive to stress. They are likely to experience a wide range of emotions and to be success-driven, perfectionistic and eager to improve. “

Last thing but not least, “  If you ever watched “The Big Bang Theory” TV series, take a closer look at Sheldon for an example of an INTP. Sure, he may seem rude, harsh, and sometimes even mean. But when his friends have a problem, he is the first person they seek. His intelligence, honesty, and hardcore reasoning are mesmerizing. “ . It’s highly true in my case, I’m often described as cold, harsh or mean. But it’s not to hurt people, I’m just more logical than emotional. It does not mean that I haven’t any emotions, it’s just that those emotions don’t restrain me. Never ask me if you are fat, ‘cause if you are I will tell you the truth and not what you want to hear. It’s for that I don’t like when people use “curvy” instead of fat for example, it’s like being ginger and pretend that you are blond. It’s two different things, why not telling the truth ? Vexing people isn’t a problem for me, as long as I’m honest I still can look at myself in the mirror. It’s a real problem in some communities, like tumblr - and it’s mostly for that I never take part of events or discussions - or some games like Star Stable Online where people are mostly snowflakes. 

It’s not I have nothing to say, it’s just you who are not ready to hear what I have to say.

[taekookismylifeline]

(yoonseok) - trust my heart when it beats for you

ao3: (x)

Summary: Jung Hoseok has had an awkward Thing for Min Yoongi for four years of his school life. He is certain that the only thing that gets in the way of them and everlasting love is the fact that Min Yoongi doesn't know he exists, but that all changes due to one drunken text message: a pick-up line. Ready to flee to another country under a false identity in mortification, he finds himself ruining their blossoming friendship and confessing when Yoongi asks why Hoseok had tried to flirt with him. However, things take a turn after his confession when Yoongi starts to (awkwardly) flirt back.

Pairings: Yoonseok, Taekook, Namjin

Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29)

Chapter 1 - that boy doesn’t know my name but maybe he knows he’ll be mine

“Oh my god, you are pathetic,” Taehyung cackled loudly in Hoseok’s ear causing him to wince. “Quit ogling him playing with his ball. Get a job. Contribute to society.”

It was their first few days back at school after their summer break and the two were perched on a bench located outside of the school’s basketball court waiting for Jimin to join them during their lunch period. Their attention had naturally been drawn to the moving object that was being repeatedly passed around the court. Through the holes in the fence that surrounded the court they could easily make out the players.

“Oh, like you can talk,” Hoseok scoffed in amusement, shoving Taehyung playfully. “Wipe your mouth, would you? You’ve still got some thirst on your lip where you’ve been drooling over Jeong-”

“Hey, shut up!” Taehyung panicked slightly as the words left Hoseok’s mouth. “I was not drooling, I was merely... Observing them playing basketball. They’re good players. Especially Jeongguk.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes fondly and accidentally kicked his bag over onto the dusty gravel from where he was swinging his legs. Taehyung laughed at him in mock-spite and held the straps down with his feet, preventing Hoseok from picking his bag up.

“Hey, Yoongi, Jeongguk, Namjoon!” A voice rang out from opposite the court and caused them to look towards the sudden noise instinctively.

It was Jimin who was sauntering through the courts, instead of around the outskirts which was the route that Hoseok and Taehyung had taken. They both watched in a unanimous silence as Jimin effortlessly approached the small group of boys that they had been surveying and begin to jostle with them light-heartedly.

Hoseok was well aware that his jaw had dropped and was probably hovering inches above the ground as Jimin threw an arm around Yoongi’s shoulder in an effort to obtain the ball before laughing and walking away. He was only dragged back into reality by Jimin’s sports trainers entering his peripheral vision.

“Hey, guys, sorry about being late; I know you can’t function without me. Miss held me back because of ‘suspected plagiarism’ in that maths mock last term.”

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” Taehyung smiled and pulled Jimin down onto the bench, sandwiching him in the middle of the two.

“Yeah, but there was no point in copying beforehand, I had to change loads of answers and ending up flunking,” Jimin complained before swiftly moving on. “So, what’s going on? Why does Hoseok look like he’s seen a ghost?”

Taehyung shot Hoseok a warning glance and then covered for him. “Oh, that loser. He’s just distraught that I trod his bag into the dirt.”

Hoseok managed to drag his eyes away from Yoongi’s figure long enough to look at Taehyung and pout. He reached down towards his bag. “It’s a nice bag.”

Jimin scoffed at the state of it, covered in smudges of chalk dust. “Was a nice bag.” Hoseok nudged him in the ribs and he let out a genuine noise of surprise before recovering. “So, what are you both up to this weekend? Seokjin’s having a party on Saturday for fresher’s week, yet another ‘freedom from school’ theme no doubt.”

“That’s the third one this month,” Taehyung commented, taking out his water bottle from his bag and offering Jimin a packet of rice cakes. “This one’s gonna be massive, isn’t it? There were quite a lot of people last time, I think he progressively invites more people.”

“I don’t think he does,” Hoseok thought aloud. “I think that the people he invites invite more people. I don’t think he really likes big parties, his real leaving party was really only family.”

“A character study: with Jung Hoseok,” Jimin commentated and then proceeded to burst out in a fit of laughter at Hoseok’s disgruntled expression. Taehyung howled at the sound of Jimin’s laughter and then Hoseok snorted so hard that he was certain his eyes had bulged.

They must have been making quite a lot of noise because when their giggles faded out, Hoseok found that a certain group of people in the basketball court had halted in their playing to stare at them. Hoseok’s breath caught in his throat as he locked eyes with Min Yoongi’s through the mesh fence. He had a silent, intense stare yet their eye contact was extremely brief as Yoongi looked away just as quickly as he had glanced over. It was so sudden that Hoseok had neglected the process of breathing and found that he was practically gasping for air when he next remembered to inhale.

The bell rang, signalling the next lesson had begun, and resonated across the field. Jimin stood up and stretched, making sure to avoid kicking over Hoseok’s bag in fear of provoking his sadistic wrath. Jimin called them both to follow him as he dashed into the courts to catch up with Jeongguk who was walking with Yoongi and Namjoon.

“You have the same reaction every time Jimin talks to Yoongi," Taehyung laughed. "They’ve been friends for over a year now, get over it! If you wanna get to know him, I tell you, Jimin’s your inside man. This is our last year, you may as well try,” Taehyung spoke in a hushed whisper as if he were churning out a particularly gripping conspiracy theory.

“And, I tell you, it’s not gonna happen. Remember last year when Jimin wanted to introduce us and I got so nervous that I told him it’d be too awkward? He’ll be suspicious if I change my mind. Anyway, I don’t think Yoongi likes me anyway. We’ve barely ever spoken. The only way I’ll ever talk to him is if I get the misfortune to be in a group with him this year, or partner work or something but I dunno if we take any of the same lessons. It’s weird, ‘cause I wanna talk to him, of course I do, but the thought of actually doing it makes me want to knock myself out.”

Taehyung laughed, and then choked on the last of the rice cakes. “Okay, same here. But what do you mean, you don’t think he likes you?” Taehyung was incredulous, as if the thought of anyone disliking Hoseok was inexplicable.

“Well, he’s got that vibe that screams: ‘Don’t talk to me!’ And he never even acknowledges me. I can count the times we’ve had eye contact on one hand - and it’s gone up by one, by the way, he looked at me when we were screaming. Oh, God, he probably thinks I’m a freak.”

Taehyung snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Okay, that’s ridiculous. So, back to him never acknowledging you, do you ever acknowledge him?”

Hoseok paused which gave Taehyung all he needed to know. Hoseok threatened Taehyung with a raised hand as Taehyung choked out a bout of laughter. He tried to defend himself in a non-violent way when he saw that Taehyung held no fear for him. “W-well, that would be so obvious - and I wouldn’t know what to say,” Hoseok stuttered. “And, besides, if Jimin’s my inside man, he’s yours, too.”

Taehyung’s laughter died and he exhaled loudly, Hoseok turned to look at him as they made their way through the science corridor to their form group and saw that Taehyung’s eyebrows were hunched together. He was thinking. “You know what? Screw it. Something’s got to change, the closest we’ve ever gotten to talking to our crushes is this year when their side of the year mixed with ours. Jimin doesn’t know how lucky he is to be transferred into their side of the year. If that had been us at the start then it would have made everything a lot simpler.”

The only response he received was a non-committal grunt from Hoseok who was only half-listening to Taehyung’s speech. This was probably the thousandth time that the same series of complaints had taken place, but still nothing had shifted. It was like they were both stuck in a stasis and were unwilling to move.

“I’m serious, 'Seok,” Taehyung seemed to sense Hoseok’s thoughts, “I’m determined that something will change this year, but we’ve got to be the one to cause it. Let’s be honest, they don’t even know that we exist, so we’ve got to change this.”

Hoseok nodded in agreement, slowly warming up to Taehyung’s sudden burst of energy. “The only things I know about Yoongi are what Jimin tells me, and that’s barely anything. I know that he plays piano because of that concert back in the first year, but how am I supposed to approach him with that? It’s creepy, and I don’t want him to know - think that he’s got an admirer, or a stalker.”

They had paused outside of the classroom door whilst no one was surrounding them. There was a very visible crease in Taehyung’s forehead whilst he seemed to be brainstorming, and then a veil of calm crossed over his face, his eyes glinted. “I’ve got it! They’ll be at the party, Seokjin’s party! Jimin will probably invite Jeongguk, so that means Namjoon and Yoongi will be there, too. So, that’s where we’ll break the ice!” Taehyung had slapped his hands together a little too enthusiastically and triggered a high-pitched buzzing noise in Hoseok’s ears.

Hoseok chewed his cheek thoughtfully. It wasn’t a bad idea, and they were probably going to end up going anyway. “Why... Why, you’re a genius!” Taehyung laughed at his melodramatic reaction.

“So, we’re going on Saturday, right?” Hoseok nodded in confirmation. “Okay, so that only gives me... three days to get an outfit together.” Taehyung was certainly thinking ahead, Hoseok hadn’t even considered which clothes he would be wearing. He would need to do a thorough check of his wardrobe; he couldn’t even remember most of the clothes he owned.

He must have looked slightly panicked because Taehyung tilted his head. “...Want me to come to yours a few hours before to help you?”

“Yes, please-” Hoseok was cut off by their teacher who had yanked open the door and greeted them with a quirk of her eyebrow.

Apologising profusely, they made their way inside and sat down at their usual table, their friends greeted them but when receiving a half-hearted response they realised that the two wanted some privacy. Taehyung and Hoseok lowered their voices to a whisper.

“Wanna get tipsy before we go to the party?”

“Oh, fuck yes, I’ll bring the alcohol.”

“Thanks. Just don’t bring beer- you threw up last time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. To be fair, I did drink a lot of it.”

“And whose fault was that? Bring something that doesn’t smell as rank on the breath, I don’t wanna scare Yoongi away.”

“Yes, fine, I’ll bring wine or something, we don’t want to make Yoongers scarper away as if he’s never tasted beer breath before.”

“‘Yoongers’? Please stop.”

“Never! Also, you are gonna ask him out, right?”

“Jeez, one step at a time please, my heart may give out. Are you gonna ask Jeongguk?”

“No - I don’t trust myself. I’ll either open my mouth and vomit on him or ask him to marry me. I’ll stick to being suave.”

“Oh, god, this is not gonna go well,” Hoseok groaned and then was silenced by his teacher coughing at them in a disapproving manner. The unnerved feeling in his stomach did not settle, not even after school and after he had had dinner. It was a bad feeling, a knot of nerves. A premonition, probably. But it didn’t particularly bother Hoseok as he was far too busy focussing on smooth one-liners that he would be sure to use on the object of his affection: untouchable, unobtainable, awkwardly adorable, veins carved from silver beating under the seemingly soft skin of his hands Min Yoongi.

Perhaps, after Saturday, Yoongi may start to acknowledge his existence if he mustered up the courage to talk to him. It was a dim hope, but a hope even so, and that was enough to fuel Hoseok’s enthusiasm.

[welllpthisishappening]

Tripping Over the Blue Line (40/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence AN: If last update was an introduction to Los Angeles, hotbed of NHL drama, then today’s update is an introduction to Emma Swan, done taking anybody’s nonsense. It was an absolute delight to write. As always I can’t thank you guys enough for continuing to be so psyched about this story. I flail over every comment and message and all of it. @laurnorder, @distant-rose & @beautiful-swan made this better.  Also living on Ao3, FF.net & tag’ed up on Tumblr. 

She kept her notes app open for all of Game 2. And brought it with her to the press box. Because she had to keep score.

Killian hit someone, Emma barely acknowledging the number on the jersey or the name on the back as she jotted down the updated points total. He was winning. And so were the Rangers.

Midway through the second period and the announcers on the other side of the wall had used the word offensive explosion no less than six times already, a three-goal cushion and Jefferson had notched a handful of vaguely impressive saves.

She didn’t really care about that though.

Emma cared about the rules she’d been tasked with following and the bet she had to keep on track and Killian had scored with two minutes left in the first period. She cared about that too.

“What do you keep writing?” Ruby asked, peering over Emma’s shoulder and scoffing when she realized what she was doing. “Oh my God is that the bet?”

“Yup,” Emma answered and she added another tally to Killian’s side when he forced a turnover.

“I can’t believe they roped you into this. This is ridiculous.” “This is a good story. And you know it.” Ruby groaned and she couldn’t really argue. It was a good story. And they’d pushed it for the better part of the last two days hoping to distract from that other story and then the next story and there was another story in The Los Angeles Times that morning, like Killian Jones’ past was any sort of actual news.

Emma had pushed through a sea of reporters to get into the Staples Center a few hours before puck drop – her phone and the rules of the bet clutched tightly in her hand like they were some kind of metaphorical anchor keeping her centered or something – and she only sort of heard the questions, keeping her head down so no one got a picture of her tripping over her feet.

They knew everything.

Or most of everything.

And she would have been impressed by the investigative skills of the greater Los Angeles news contingent if she weren’t also somewhere in the realm of infuriated by it as well.

“We should probably get you some kind of escort out of the arena later,” Ruby continued, eyes staying focused on the ice as the Kings pushed into the zone. Jefferson made the save.

“Or you could not worry about that,” Emma said.

“I’m serious, Em.” “I know you are, that’s why I’m telling you not to do it. This is so not about me.” “This is one-hundred percent about you.” Emma lowered her eyebrows at Ruby’s tone and she still hadn’t turned her head away from the pane of glass in front of her. She texting without even glancing at her phone screen.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Emma asked. “Ah, damnit.” Will got a penalty – two minutes for tripping and that put him down another five points and he’d be pissed about that later.

“Em, don’t worry about the bet for two seconds,” Ruby said seriously, pulling the pen out of her hand and ignoring her cry at the movement. “Listen. They want to talk to you.” “Who?” “I mean throw a dart. Everyone. You know I got a request from People this afternoon?” “People,” Emma repeated and her once-lowered eyebrows had practically flown up her forehead. God, their PK was horrible without Scarlet on the ice. Arthur hadn’t stopped pacing in days, at least.

“Yeah, you know like the magazine.” “A gossip magazine.” “Well, like a step up from gossip magazine. But them too. US Weekly is very determined.” Ruby pointed at her phone screen as it buzzed again and Emma’s mouth fell open, the bet momentarily forgotten in a rush of stunned silence.

“That’s insane,” she sputtered. “What would they want with me?” “Exactly what the other story was only bigger and with actual quotes from you instead of some anonymous source who was willing to discuss your NHL dating history.” “None of that was true,” Emma mumbled, shifting uncomfortably her seat and Ruby nodded sympathetically. “And still no idea who the source was?” Ruby shook her head. “I don’t know who’d make all of that up. And even a shitty gossip site like that one isn’t just going to give up their sources. There are rules.”

“That’s stupid.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“So then where is this going?”

Ruby groaned, slumping down in the chair and twisting the ends of her hair around one finger. “They’re going to be waiting for you when you leave.” “They were waiting for me when I got here,” Emma argued and they’d managed to get out of the penalty without giving up a goal. Still winning.

She needed to pay more attention.

“What?” Ruby snapped, nearly jumping out of the chair. Six different reporters glanced at her. She brushed them off quickly, taking a step towards Emma until she was practically leaning over her, both hands on her shoulders and a worried expression on her face.

“What?” Emma repeated. “It was fine. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even fall over.”

“What did they ask you?”

Emma shrugged and Ruby’s grip on her shoulders tightened. “I wasn’t really listening. Something about my laces. They keep asking about my laces. And maybe something about LA and the Kings?” She shrugged again. Ruby looked murderous. “What am I missing?” “I don’t know,” Ruby said slowly, chewing on her lower lip as her eyes moved across the room, staring at reporters like one of them was about to sell Emma out.

“You look like you’re about to start just breaking people’s recorders,” Emma said, doing her best not to laugh.

Ruby would probably kill her if she started to laugh.

This was insane.

She had a side-bet point system to keep on track and post-game SnapChats to send out and tweets about that same side-point system.

The fans really liked the side-bet point system.

Good. That had been the point.

“No one uses actual recorders anymore,” Ruby muttered. “I just feel like I’m missing something here. Something big.” “Seems awfully conspiracy theory doesn’t it?” “Mary Margaret agrees with me.”

Emma’s foot slammed onto the floor, shoulders rolling out of instinct and she hadn’t even noticed that the second period had ended. They were still winning.

“I’m sorry what,” Emma whispered and she appreciated how quickly Ruby blinked in response. “Are you talking to Mary Margaret about this?” “I thought you would, honestly. Or at least David. He’s the one who said we should get someone to walk out with you.”

She pressed her lips together tightly so she didn’t actually start yelling in the middle of the press box and Ruby kept blinking, sinking back into her chair slowly like she was nervous anything quicker would actually cause Emma to descend completely into madness.

It was close.

“This is insane,” Emma repeated and she couldn’t come up with another word. People were throwing t-shirts into the stands and the sound of fingers hitting laptop keys had never been louder in the history of the entire world, she was certain.

Ruby hummed in agreement and she didn’t look quite as nervous anymore, seemingly a bit more confident after Emma didn’t immediately start throwing things.  “I know it is,” she said, reaching out to rest her hand on Emma’s knee.

“But you don’t have a reason for it? I mean, I almost get the stuff about Killian, but this is...”

She trailed off, not entirely able to say why me out loud without actually feeling like she was twelve years old. They’d brought out t-shirt guns now and something that might have been a cannon. The fans were very enthusiastic. And loud.

And Emma couldn’t really think anymore.

She wanted to go back to New York. She wanted to get out Los Angeles. She wanted to win a goddamn Stanley Cup. “No,” Ruby sighed. “I mean I get the Killian stuff. I’ve never met Gold, but I’ve done some talking and some questioning and the general consensus seems to be he’s just an absolutely enormous dick.” Emma scoffed and her laugh was shaky at best and, well, there wasn’t another word except insane for any of this.

“That’s the general consensus then?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded. “You really asked about Gold?” Another nod. “Why?” Ruby rolled her eyes and she’d never actually taken her hand off Emma’s knee. “You’ve got people in your corner,” she said easily and, maybe, just a bit intently. “Not just the captain of this stupid team. All of them. And me. Who wants some answers.” Emma was like some kind of Stanley Cup Finals Grinch – heart growing three sizes, at least, in the middle of the Staples Center press box – and she blinked quickly because this conversation was bordering on the edge of emotional.

“We’re not LA,” Ruby added softly and, well, maybe that was the moral of the season. “And thank God for that because, in addition to figuring out some shit about Gold, I’ve been told pretty much everyone here hates their job.” “What?” “Oh yeah, like, hates it hates it. I guess Gold brought in all these new people and they didn’t gel and they won games, but it was mostly just right place at the right time down the stretch of the regular season. Plus the West is a garbage conference.” “That’s your professional opinion, then?”

“Quote me,” Ruby said. “Except, you know, don’t. Because I want to keep my job.”

Emma laughed and it wasn’t quite as shaky as it had been before, eyes flashing to the ice when the players started skating again and they were twenty minutes away from splitting the opening two games.

“Speaking of jobs,” Emma said. “How did you figure all this stuff out about Gold while also doing your job?” “Maybe I’m just that impressive.” “I mean, yeah, sure, but also that’s a lot of investigative work on your part, Rubes.” “Did you miss the part when I said people like you?” “Ruby.” She groaned, scrunching her nose and Emma did her best to try and stay patient. “Dor knows people, obviously. So she asked around and a guy who writes for the AP  and used to write for SI and he’s friends with someone on the Times sports copy desk.” “And they know Gold?” “Nah, they know someone who actually writes for the Times sports department and they mentioned that Gold would barely do interviews after he bought the team. I guess he’s not really into being on camera.” “Maybe he’s a vampire,” Emma muttered and the game had started again. A shot hit the crossbar and Killian was up against the boards, trying to find traction on his skates and they’d never come up with a point marker if you got hit.

She hoped his hand was ok. He hadn’t actually said it, but he’d gotten hit hard in Game 1 and it was still somewhere in the realm of purple when they’d woken up that morning. Emma texted Ariel about it.

“That might make sense,” Ruby shrugged, smiling that very particular type of smile at Emma. “We could run with that story, probably. I know some people.” “Media relations extraordinaire.” “You flatter me.” Emma laughed and she almost wasn’t worried about the apparent horde of reporters that would be waiting for her as soon as she walked out of the Staples Center and they hadn’t really come to any sort of conclusion on that front.

She didn’t have time to think about that.

There was still a community to relate to and a fan event before Game 3 in front of the Garden and Merida had left that morning on a non-stop flight to JFK to try and get some sort of jump on the planning.

Emma had started carrying around one of those portable phone chargers to make sure she was in constant contact and it didn’t seem to matter because her phone was probably just going to combust at some point, vibrating almost violently on the table in front of her.

“How goes the planning?” Ruby asked knowingly, one eyebrow lifted. “Any more tent debacles?” “There haven’t been any tent debacles at all this season,” Emma argued. Another point for Killian. Will was going to be furious with how badly he was going to lose.

Ruby’s smile widened. “Exactly.” “Was this supposed to be some kind of lesson?” “Maybe.” “A bit heavy-handed, don’t you think?” “Nah, you’re you, so this kind of had to play out this way.” “That’s rude.” “Insert something about you growing as a person or some other nonsense. I don’t know, ask Killian’s mom to supply you with some kind of cliché for this situation.” Emma shook her head slowly, but there was a smile on her face too and this team knew far too much about each other’s lives away from the ice and out of the arena and it was, maybe, kind of perfect.

Or some other cliché.

She’d asked Mrs. Vankald when she got back to New York. They had tickets to Game 3.

“When did you talk to Reese’s?” Emma asked. “Or David for that matter.” “At the same time. They come as some kind of pre-packaged deal, don’t they?” “They’re trying to finish wedding stuff,” Emma reasoned, but she couldn’t even really argue it anymore. Killian had been right before. They were some kind of pair.

“Yesterday,” Ruby said, brushing over wedding details and she still wasn’t happy about the blue dresses they were slated to wear in two and a half weeks. “Mary Margaret called me, by the way. So be mad at her. Because someone at school saw the story about Killian and asked her about it.” “Someone was asking Reese’s about hockey?” “Did she not tell you she bought a t-shirt?” Emma shook her head. “Oh yeah,” Ruby continued. “She’s all in on this fandom thing now. I think since we’re both here and you’re, you know, painfully in love with Cap, she figured she’d dive into the deep end of fandom. Her kids think it’s hysterical.” Emma gaped at Ruby who just kept staring at her like this was the most obvious thing in the entire world. It kind of was.

She’d have to add that to her maid of honor speech as well.

“Painfully in love,” Emma repeated, muttering the words, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to even sound bitter.

“Painfully.”

She scoffed, turning back towards the ice and the Kings could barely keep the puck on their sticks, let alone work their way into the zone. Offensive explosion seemed like the best description for this game.

They didn’t say anything for what felt like the rest of the game and it was practically over by the time they hit the five-minute mark. Killian was absolutely destroying Will on the side-bet front. They’d have to get him a Jones jersey.

And maybe a hat.

Definitely a hat.

“Emma?”

She spun around at the sound of the voice and he probably shouldn’t have been in the press box because he wasn’t media relations, but it had been that kind of day and, so far, that kind of series, so it only made sense for Neal to be calling her name from the doorway with just over three and a half minutes left to play.

The Kings pulled their goalie.

Emma didn’t move, just straightened her shoulders and lifted her eyebrows and Neal scuffed his feet on the carpet.

They had black carpet in the Staples Center. The Kings were, easily, the worst team in the entire league.

“Can, I, uh, talk to you,” Neal continued, scratching the edge of his thumb against his cheek. Emma tilted her head when she heard Ruby laughing, a soft, sarcastic sound that was about as good as a response as she could come up with herself.

Neal tried to smile, but it didn’t really work – he looked like he was in pain. He blinked and Emma was momentarily concerned he was actually going to cut his cheek.

That didn’t last long.

“Just a couple minutes,” Neal mumbled. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” Emma repeated sharply and Neal actually took a step back.

“Well, it’s a couple of different things.” Ruby stood up, arms crossed tightly over her chest and Emma wasn’t entirely unconvinced that she wasn’t shooting lasers at Neal.

“I’ve got stuff to do,” Emma said. “There’s this kind of important game going on.” “Your guys side bet?” Neal asked, laughing softly at his own question and Emma chanced a glance at Ruby. She’d absolutely come up with six different ways to kill Neal in the middle of the press box.

“Don’t be an ass,” Ruby hissed.

Emma groaned, neck snapping when she twisted it between her shoulders. “What do you want?” “To talk to you,” Neal said and he sounded almost depressing. “C’mon Ems, it’s important.” “I have a job to do.” “A couple of minutes. I just…” He trailed off, waving his hands in the air and something was wrong. Emma shifted uncomfortably on her feet, whole body twisting around when she heard the crowd start yelling again and the Kings hadn’t actually scored, but it must have been close.

“Two minutes,” Emma said. “You’ve got two minutes and that’s it. I’ve got post stuff to do.” “So do I.” “Fine.”

She brushed past him – still taking up a ridiculous amount of space in the doorway and Emma resisted the very real effort to knock her shoulder against his. She was an adult. A professional adult.

And she didn’t care about Neal Cassidy.

Not anymore.

“You coming?” Emma shouted, glancing over her shoulder when Neal didn’t follow her immediately. He nodded, jogging towards her and pushing open a door in the corner that she hadn’t actually noticed before, stepping into the stairwell without a word.

“You coming,” Neal repeated, one side of his mouth pulled up. She wanted to slap it off.

“Are you serious?” “I’m not going to murder you in a stairwell, Em. Come on.” She took a deep breath, tapping out a rhythm against her wrist and Neal’s eyes widened a bit when they dropped down to her laces. Neal sank onto the top stair, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck and every single one of Emma’s muscles felt tight or maybe heavy and this was already an exhausting conversation.

“You going to sit down?” Neal asked, glancing at Emma.

“Nope.” “Ems.” “Nope,” she said again, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. “Don’t do that. You don’t get nicknames anymore. You get two minutes and then I’ve got to go back to work.” “And back to Jones,” he added softly and Emma’s narrowed.

“That too.” “When did that start?” “That is so far out of the realm of your business it’s not even funny,” Emma said. “Is this what you wanted to talk about? Because that’s petty, even for you.” “Even for me?”

“You left, Neal,” she snapped. “Years ago. Actual years. And you took my job and you acted like it was totally fine and not your fault and it was. It was absolutely your fault. So, yeah, even for you seems like a pretty fair assessment of the situation right now.”

He didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity, eyes boring a hole into the space of stair in between his shoes and Emma did her best not to start pacing.

There wasn’t that much space in the stairwell.

“That’s true,” Neal mumbled and Emma’s shoulders heaved with the force of her deep breath.

“What is the point of this?” “They’re going to run something tomorrow.” “What?”

Neal took a deep breath and he was going to do permanent damage to his neck if he held it any tighter. “One of those ridiculous sites,” he said quickly, rushing over the words as if that would make any of this less absurd. “They’re going to run something.” “About?” “You.” Emma stopped moving, leaning against the wall and the stairwell, somehow, seemed to get smaller. “What aren’t you saying right now?” “It’s not good, Ems.” “What could they possibly say? I’m not on the ice. I haven’t even answered any of their questions!” “Yeah, about that,” Neal continued and his voice seemed to echo in her head. Or maybe off the walls.

It all made sense quickly – Emma was half certain she could feel her brain putting the pieces together – and Neal pressed up off the stair, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shooting her something that might have been apologetic.

“It’s you isn’t it,” she accused. Neal grimaced. “You’re the source, aren’t you? God fucking dammit, Neal. What did you say?” “You didn’t read the story?” “Of course I didn’t read the story! I’m trying to focus on my job. I’ve got a job to do and a team to promote and media requests to help Ruby with. Shit, Ruby is drowning in media requests and half the reason for that is you!” Her shoulders were heaving again and she couldn’t take a deep breath, blinking quickly to stop the emotion she could feel welling in the corners of her eyes. “Why would you do it?” Emma pressed. “An anonymous source? That’s just…” “I know,” Neal muttered. “I know, I know. And you’re right. It’s total shit.” “That’s not an answer.” Neal smirked and Emma glared at him, pressing her heels into the concrete floor underneath her. She’d missed the end of the game. And she’d stopped keeping track of side-bet points.

“I want an answer,” Emma continued. “Why did you come to Los Angeles?” “It was an opportunity.” “You worked for the league!” “Yeah, as some kind of lackey. The league job was a step down from what I was doing with the Preds and I’d only taken it for the title and, well, you kept moving up. You were in charge of this whole department and Los Angeles might not be Original Six, but it’s an enormous market. I was, well, I was jealous.” “You realize how childish that sounds, right?” “Yeah,” Neal nodded. “Doesn’t change the facts though. I wanted back in. I wanted some control and a department and I’ve known Gold since he had the Islanders. Interned with them while I was at school and I made some calls as soon as he came out here.” “So you straight up lied to my face then.” “What?” “When they fired me, they told me it was just business, but it wasn’t. Not for you. It was personal. You wanted my job and you told me you didn’t. God, you’re even more of a fucking asshole than I thought you were.” Neal’s jaw dropped and he looked like he was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to run away from Emma. She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry with the realization and fuck Los Angeles.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“I don’t care.” “It’s not like it didn’t work out. You landed in New York and you’ve got Jones following you around like some kind of goal-scoring puppy.” “Shut up, Neal,” Emma murmured. “Why the anonymous source? Just to screw me over some more?” “No, no, this is all kind of new.” “I don’t understand.” “Gold hates Jones. Despises him. Even if the divorce was close to being finalized, he doesn’t believe it. But there wasn’t really anything he could do except put out some fake rumors about wanting to pick him in FA.” “You know how insane that sounds?” Emma shouted and she was treading dangerously close to breakdown. She couldn’t see straight, everything tinged red as she tried to will herself to stop shaking.

“Jones stole his wife,” Neal said evenly as if he’d rehearsed that line several times in front of his bathroom mirror.

“Excuse me?” “Didn’t you know that?” “That’s not a question you get to ask. And not true either. God, Neal are you crazy?”

She was still shaking and Neal’s eyes darted back to her laces, mouth twisting into a sneer as the fabric shifted on her wrist. “It wasn’t right,” he muttered.

“It happened years ago! What does any of this have to do with me? And what is this story about tomorrow?”

Neal rocked back on his heels again and Emma still couldn’t quite take a deep breath. “This is all kind of a new plan,” he said again, ignoring her groan when he started rehash old points. “After all-stars and you two hadn’t made Page Six yet, but you got out of that car together and it was almost painfully obvious. He kept touching you and you had those,” Neal nodded towards her wrist, “on and as soon as I told you about him maybe coming here, I knew.” “Knew what?” “That you were in, Ems. All in. In a way we never were.” “So, what? This is repayment for that? You left. That was your choice, not mine.” “I made a mistake,” Neal said quickly and, maybe, just a bit desperately. “And I thought when you were here for all-stars, you’d want to talk or get coffee or something and you didn’t. You kept staring at Jones and letting him do whatever and then there were more rumors and that whole subReddit thing.” “You’re reading the Rangers subReddit?” Emma scoffed.

This was an alternate universe. She’d stumbled into some weird portal in this stairwell and this was an alternate version of Los Angeles and any sort of actual reality she’d ever encountered.

That was the only explanation for whatever was happening.

“It was kind of a perfect PR storm, you know?” Neal asked and Emma didn’t know. She had no response for whatever twisted situation this was.

“You are not making any sense.” “It all timed up perfectly. The fans were certain you were a distraction already and there was talk about what would happen if Jones didn’t sign and it made sense. Gold loved it.” “Say actual words, Neal!”

She’d stomped her foot and it actually hurt, pain shooting its way up her shin and maybe into the back of her head and there was more tension in between her shoulders than Emma realized could actually exist in a real, human body.

“Gold came up with it. They’d tried to bury the story after it happened. The accident and Milah and it was embarrassing for him, but not the way we wanted to spin it. Time that up with the distraction talk and that skid he was on and it was almost too easy.” The air rushed out of Emma’s mouth loudly and she wasn’t quite sure how she was still managing to support her own weight when her legs felt like they were made of jello. She needed to get into the locker room. She needed to get out of this stairwell.

She shook her head slowly, refusing to process what did, actually, make sense and Neal kept staring at her.

“He wanted something off the ice,” Neal added. “Something that was a real distraction and you two were perfect.” Emma scoffed. “That’s the part I don’t understand. Why both of us? I’m not actually on this team.” “Ems, please,” Neal said, brushing her off quickly and easily and if she blinked it could have seven seasons before in Vancouver. “It had to be both of you. The stuff with Milah was enough to distract Jones, keep him off his game and worried and it’d, hopefully, snap that point streak he had coming in here.” “But?” “But if we added you and wrote about you and what you went through, then it would completely throw him off his game. It’d throw this whole team off its game. Just look at Lucas. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me.” “I’d take that threat seriously,” Emma said and she was going to rip her laces in half if she kept tugging on them.

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” “What did you mean?” “When?” “You said what I went through,” she muttered, stomach flipping at the idea of what was coming next. “What are you talking about?” He sighed softly and for half a moment it looked like he regretted what he was about to say. That look disappeared as soon as he met Emma’s gaze. “The houses, Ems. And foster care and bouncing around and I think they found some kid you lived with in North Carolina to talk if they paid him enough. That’s what tomorrow’s story is. You and the past and your desperate search to find some kind of home.”

“I did,” Emma argued, voice low and the words felt like knives when she said them, cutting up her lips and her throat and her eyes were glassy.

“Not if Jones leaves. And this story isn’t really concerned with any of that. I think they took a kind of stereotypical approach.” Emma shook her head again, trying to will this conversation to end or maybe never happen and they’d split in LA. That was the only thing that mattered.

“Gold-digger stuff,” he added, like she was still listening to a single word he was saying. “Trying to find a home in Jones’ max deal. Kind of obvious, but I didn’t write the story.”

Emma pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek and Neal shrugged. That did it.

“You’re an ass,” she said, practically growling out the words.

“I warned you. I didn’t have to do that.” “Please, you did it to make yourself feel better. It’s not like you tried to stop the story.” “I’d have lost my job if I did that.” “That brings us back to square one of this argument.” “They’re not going to sign him after this,” Neal argued. “Even if they win the Cup. This is a PR mess for the Rangers and half the reason Ruby wanted to kill me was because of this, because she’s swamped with requests and it’s not going to stop. This whole series, Ems. Gold’s got a plan and he’s going to make sure Jones is on the short end of it.” She huffed out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, narrowing her eyes and Neal took another step back out of instinct. “Fuck you,” Emma said, turning on her heels and pushing back out the door and into the abandoned hallway outside the press box.

She was too far away from the locker room.

Emma needed to find an elevator to get to the locker room. Or maybe just outside. There wasn’t enough oxygen inside the Staples Center.

There were reporters outside the Staples Center.

She couldn’t leave the Staples Center.

God fucking damnit.

Emma’s finger felt like it snapped as she hit on the elevator button and she was breathing now, but it wasn’t easy – quick pants that were just making her lungs hurt. She ran her hand over her face, tapping impatiently for the elevator to get to whatever floor she was on and she all but sprinted into it when the doors opened.

It took far too long to get to the bottom floor and the sound of her tapping foot echoed in the otherwise empty elevator – some kind of audible reminder of being alone and that was just stupid.

She wasn’t alone.

She was fine. Everything was fine. Or it would be fine. And maybe David had a point – maybe she shouldn’t leave the Staples Center on her own.

Emma was almost close to confident and maybe just a bit positive, fingers looped through her laces as she took a step towards the locker room and she heard them snap. Her breath caught in her throat and, well, it had to happen eventually – tugging on them constantly like some sort of emotional life vest and her mouth hung open as she stared at the slightly broken equipment in her palm.

“Fuck,” Emma mumbled, clenching her hand tightly until she could feel her nails pressing into skin. She turned on the spot, back towards another stairwell and if she didn’t sit down, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay standing up.

Emma winced at the sound of the door hitting the wall and collapsed onto the bottom stair, legs twisted up awkwardly underneath her as she tried to pull her phone out of her pocket. What time was it? It had to be late.

Puck drop at six western time, meant nine eastern time and the game had lasted...two hours? Two and a half? Three? It was nearly midnight at home.

Her fingers moved over the screen anyway. It barely rang once before Mary Margaret answered. “Emma?” she asked, concern obvious even on the other side of the country. “Are you ok?” “How do you know I’m not ok?” “It’s midnight and you won. I figured you’d be swamped with work stuff.” “I am,” Emma admitted. “I’m just...not doing it.” Mary Margaret made a noise on the other end, something sounded a bit like surprise and maybe confusion and David yelled something she couldn’t quite understand. “What did David just say?” Emma asked.

“Talk to security,” David shouted, not even waiting for Mary Margaret to answer. “Get them to walk you out so you don’t get hounded by assholes again.” “David,” Mary Margaret sighed and Emma slumped against the step behind her.

“Fine, fine,” he corrected quickly. “They’re not assholes. They’re doing their job. Em, make sure they don’t do their job.” She took a deep breath and the stair was probably going to leave a bruise in her back. Maybe she should talk to Ariel. God, she still needed to get post-game video.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said softly, jolting her back to reality and she’d never actually explained why she’d called. “Still here.” “Is everything ok?” “No,” she whispered and there were tears on her face. She’d broken her laces.

“What happened?” “I talked to Neal.” She must have been on speaker phone because David started yelling again and Mary Margaret was trying to shush him and none of it was doing much to help settle whatever storm of feelings was raging in the pit of Emma’s stomach.

“And I can’t really stop the assholes from doing their job,” Emma continued, cutting into the argument and the line went silent immediately.

“Why?” David asked sharply.

“Because they’ve already done it. It’s going to run tomorrow, I guess. That’s what I was talking to Neal about.” “Neal knew?” Mary Margaret whispered and Emma nodded, hair brushing up against the side of the phone.

“Yeah.”

Emma shrugged, not really sure what to say and David was swearing again – words very obvious despite the fact that he seemed to be stomping across the apartment floor as well. Mary Margaret didn’t even try and quiet him.

She might have started swearing as well and Emma nearly choked on the minimal amount of air she was breathing when she heard the word dick muttered angrily on the other end of the phone.

“Reese’s,” Emma muttered, but the tirade didn’t end and it took three more tries before Mary Margaret actually stopped cursing Neal to a variety of different, and graphic, locations.

“Yeah, sorry, sorry,” Mary Margaret said quickly and David hummed in the background. “I just...I can’t believe that.” “Come home, Em,” David added. “Take a red eye back tonight.” “I can’t,” Emma argued. “I’ve got work to do and I don’t want…” “What?” Mary Margaret made another noise – and this one sounded like understanding. “She doesn’t want Killian to worry.” “Mind reader,” Emma accused.

“Yeah, well, I know you.” The door swung open and Emma nearly dropped her phone, pressing her nails even tighter into her hand until she was certain she’d actually managed to cut herself as well. Will Scarlet blinked at her once, jerking back slightly when he realized she was sitting there – crying.

She was still crying.

“Emma?” he asked and she waved. She actually waved. God, she needed to go home. “What,” Will continued, scuffing his foot against the floor. “What are you doing in here? You know Cap was looking for you.”

He must have just gotten out of the shower, hair still wet and there were droplets of moisture on his forehead. He was holding his phone.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the questions in her ear as she tried to pull her fingers out of the fist they were still in.

“Um,” she mumbled. “Just, um, talking to Reese’s.” She pointed at the phone – or at least tried to. She still hadn’t let go of her laces.

“Everything ok?”

She was going to nod. She was going to lie. She was going to promise it was as fine as she’d nearly convinced herself it was, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to do it, couldn’t actually move an inch and Mary Margaret was still talking in her ear.

Will pressed his lips together and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, reaching forward slowly to tug Emma’s phone out of her hands. “Hey, Mary Margaret,” he said calmly, seemingly unperturbed by the tears still falling down her cheeks. “Yeah, you’re right this isn’t Emma. No, she’ll be fine. You’ll be fine, right, Emma?” “Yeah, sure,” Emma agreed, not entirely what she was agreeing to.

“Of course not," Will continued. “Nope. Absolutely not. Yeah, he’s doing post now. You eat yet, Emma?” “What?” “Food. Did you eat during the game?” “No.” “What,” he snapped, eyebrows pulled low and Emma wasn’t certain what to do with a suddenly concerned-about-her Will Scarlet. “Why not?”

“Um, well, I was busy.” “That’s a lame excuse. Yeah, don’t worry about it Mary Margaret, I got it.” He hung up the phone – after answering half a dozen more questions and he kept saying yeah and sure and don’t worry and this was the strangest alternate universe. Emma held her hand out expectantly for her phone and Will grinned at her when he dropped it in her outstretched palm. “How come you didn’t eat?” he asked. “There’s food in the press box.” Emma sighed. “I told you already. I was busy.” “Too busy to make it to post?” “Are you checking up on me, Scarlet?” “No,” he answered, crossing his arms over his team-branded t-shirt. “At least not technically.” “I’m fine.” “You’re a giant liar is what you are. You and Cap.” “Why wouldn’t Killian be fine?” Will narrowed his eyes, tilting his head and staring at Emma speculatively. “I mean besides all this Gold shit.” “I wasn’t talking about all this Gold shit. Did you not see the game?” Emma’s heart stopped or maybe sped up and she hissed in her breath when her nails pushed into her palm again. “What happened?” “I mean nothing big, really. We won. And he scored. Hey, you got the scoresheet on you? I’m pretty certain I lost, but I’d like to see the numbers in person.” “Were you keeping track of your side-bet during the game?” “Eh, only kind of,” Will shrugged. “You don’t have it do you?”

Emma shook her head. “I left it in the press box. I, uh, well I kind of got distracted.” “And that’s why you didn’t see the end of the game?” “Yeah.” “You want to talk about it?” “What?” Emma asked, nearly shouting the question at Will. He laughed softly, ducking his head as he moved next to her.

“Just a question.” “You didn’t like me,” she said and it still sounded like an accusation. “But then you went and fought Soyer because he was talking about me in the con finals.” “Only one of those things is true.” “Which one?” Will laughed again and he tapped his finger on her still-clenched fist. “What are you holding on to so tightly?” It felt like a much bigger question than it was, something important in just a few words and Emma bit her lip. “My laces,” she muttered. “I ripped my laces.” “You tug on them a lot.” “You noticed that?” “Everyone’s noticed that. You guys are awful at not acting like you’re super into each other.” “Ruby said painfully in love.” “Ah, well,” Will said. “Lucas is better with words than I am.” “Insert cliché about actions speaking louder than words here.” His whole body shook when he laughed again, the sound working its way in between them and his shoulder brushed against Emma’s when he moved. “Was it about this Gold shit?” he asked. “Why you left?”

“Yeah.” Will let out a low whistle or maybe a sigh and he didn’t really have enough hair to actually run his fingers through it, but he tried anyway. “Fucking asshole,” he muttered.

“Yeah, that’s the general opinion at this point.” “I can’t beat anybody up, can I?” Will asked and he hadn’t moved his shoulder away from Emma’s, ignoring his now-ringing phone.

“It’s not anyone on the ice.” “Damn.” “Exactly,” Emma laughed. “Although I do appreciate the thought.” “Ah, well it’s the thought that counts.” “That was a good cliché!” “You spend enough time around Mrs. V, you’ll start to pick up on these things.”  Emma hummed noncommittally and she wasn’t sure she was entirely ready to start having that kind of conversation with Will Scarlet. He didn’t seem to care.   “You should you know,” he added. “Spend some more time around Mrs. V and the entire Vankald family and, well, Cap. In general.” “In general?” “Or, you know, indefinitely.” “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Emma said and if there was a sign on her forehead flashing the word liar over and over again, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Sure,” Will agreed, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Of course not.” The door slammed open again and Killian’s eyes widened when he took in the scene in front of him – Will’s shoulder still pressed against Emma’s arm and the tear tracks on her cheeks and someone’s phone was ringing again.

“Answer Belle,” Emma muttered, bumping her arm against Will’s side. “I’m fine.” Will clicked his tongue skeptically and Killian still hadn’t moved, door propped open behind him with the back of his foot. “Hey Cap,” he muttered. “Look, I found her.” “Yeah,” Killian said slowly and Emma was concerned they’d done permanent damage to the wall behind the door. “I can see that.” Will made another noise, shooting a glance Emma’s direction as he moved towards the door, grabbing his phone out of his pocket as he moved. “We’re getting food soon,” he shouted. “So, you know, keep that in mind.” “Idiot,” Killian mumbled, but he was almost smiling. Emma wiped the back of her hand against her cheeks, tugging on skin and blinking quickly to try and get rid of the evidence and she knew, immediately, it didn’t work – Killian’s eyebrows pulled low and his shoulders set and he didn’t actually sit down next to her.

“I was worried,” he said.

Emma sighed. “Yeah, I know.” She glanced up at him, pulling her hair over her shoulder and made some sort of ridiculous noise in the back of throat, jumping up and reaching out instinctively.

She dropped her laces.

“What happened?” Emma asked sharply, fingers hovering just over his mouth and she barely make out the stitches underneath his lip. It wasn’t messy – Victor was good at his job, after all – but it looked fresh and it must have hurt.

“Ah, they pulled their goalie, which was stupid, you know, we were up by three.”

Emma smiled and she took another step forward, the front of her heels brushing up against Killian’s league-mandated dress shoes and his hand fell on her waist. “That wasn’t an answer,” she muttered. “And they have to pull the goalie, those are the rules.” “Not a rule, Swan. A suggestion.” “What happened to your face?” “Are you suggesting there’s something wrong with my face?” “You know exactly what I’m suggesting,” she laughed and they’d all been given far too much Finals merch. He was wearing a brand-new shirt. “Did you get hit?” “A stick.” “Hmmm?” “A stick hit me,” Killian explained, rolling his eyes. “They pulled the goalie and everyone in front of the net and Jeff couldn’t get his glove on the puck. So people were hitting and trying to get position and somebody’s stick got in my way.”

“In your way.”

“Obviously.” Emma gripped the front of his shirt and she knew he was still worried, his eyebrows pulled low and his lips set a very certain way – although that might have been because of the stitches too. “You’re ok though?” she asked and her voice might have shaken slightly.

“Fine,” Killian promised. “It happens. Couple of stitches and Victor yelling at me about learning how to move in front of the net and Red wasn’t very pleased either.” “Do you get PT for a busted lip?” “She was worried about my jaw.” Emma hummed, eyes scanning his face like she was taking stock of it – checking for bruises or other cuts and she wasn’t even remotely qualified to do any of that.

“You won, by the way,” Emma said and Killian widened his eyes in confusion. “The side-bet thing. You absolutely destroyed Will.” “That penalty probably cost him.” “It did.” Killian hadn’t ever moved his hand off her waist, the other one coming up to wrap around her wrist and he smiled when his eyes met hers. “You going to tell me what happened, now?” “I feel like there should have been a line,” Emma sighed. “Everyone wanted to know. I’m surprised Ruby hasn’t barged in here too.” “Swan.” Emma groaned, head rolling back and forth and she threw both her hands in the air when she realized her laces were still sitting in a small pile on the floor behind her. Killian made a noise when she moved, bending down to grab the laces and she blinked quickly when she turned back towards him.

“I broke my laces,” she muttered. “Kept pulling on them.” Killian wrapped his fingers around hers lightly – he was still smiling. “What happened, love?” “Neal’s the source.” His grip tightened slightly and he rolled his shoulders back, suddenly looking taller and just a bit more intimidating than Emma could ever remember seeing him. She could see him swallow and it was probably good he hadn’t actually hurt his jaw because he probably would have snapped it, clenching it tightly as the anger practically rolled off him.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “Wanted to tell me or let me know that there’s a story coming out tomorrow or something. He’s an ass.” “There’s a story coming out tomorrow?” She shrugged. “That site that keeps running all of it. They’re, uh, they’re going to write about me. I guess.” “You?” “Yeah,” she continued and the word felt scratchy in her throat. God, she was starving. “And me growing up and I guess I’m not just a distraction anymore, I’m some kind of gold-digger too because, according to Neal, I’m only after you for your max deal.” “Fucking asshole,” Killian growled and it was good he’d changed because Emma wasn’t certain she wouldn’t have been just a bit intimidated by the combination of that voice and a full NHL uniform.

“I’m not,” Emma said quickly, pressing her palm flat against his chest. She could almost feel him relax. That felt important.

“You’re not what?” “Using you for your max-deal potential. Just for the record, as it were.” Killian scoffed and Emma bit her lip when he tugged her hand up towards his lips, brushing against her knuckles. Maybe Ruby sent out the post-game SnapChats. She hoped so.

“Ah, well, if you were you wouldn’t be doing a very good job, would you?” Killian murmured. “No deal in sight yet.” “That’s not true and you know it. A split in LA is huge.” “Good PR response, Swan.” “An honest one.” “That works too.” She couldn’t really kiss him – far too aware of the stitches and his possibly injured jaw – but her hand found its way to his cheek, resting on a ridiculously long playoff beard and Emma knew she didn’t imagine him leaning into the touch.

Good.

“No one will care,” Killian said. “That story and the site and whatever source Neal wants to pretend to be. No one on this team will care. I won’t. Although I might kill Neal.” “You and David can tag-team it.” “That’s fair. And he texted me twice while I was walking over here.” “Overprotective idiot.” “Nah,” Killian argued and he clearly didn’t care about his stitches as much as Emma did because he kissed her , lips ghosting over hers quickly. She had to stop herself from pushing back against him, digging her heels into the concrete underneath her. “People care about you, Swan. Mary Margaret, David, Scarlet, even Locksley asked where you were during post.” “You,” Emma chanced and she wasn’t certain when her heart started beating so loudly. “Me,” Killian agreed. “If not slightly differently.” “Oh?” “Yeah, well, I love you. A painful amount, I was informed earlier,  so that seems like some kind of other level of care.” Emma laughed – a real, honest laugh and the smile on her face didn’t feel quite as strange as she expected it to. “You talked to Ruby didn’t you?” “Interrupted her post-game SnapChat sending process.” “She didn’t have to do that.” “She said you were busy.” “Yeah, having some sort of emotional breakdown over broken laces.”

“We can get you new laces, Swan.” “It’s not the same,” she mumbled and Killian laughed at her, arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he tugged her against his chest.

“Of course not.” Emma took a deep breath, nose scrunched against his t-shirt and he smelled like him – post-game shower and something she couldn’t quite name and, God, he was warm all the time. There was probably a reason for that, something scientific that Emma absolutely did not care about and he laughed softly when she burrowed further against him, arm tightening again until his fingers were trailing across the bottom of her spine.

The door was going to fly off its hinges if they all kept slamming it that much and Robin stared at his shoes when he walked into the stairwell. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he muttered.

“You’re not interrupting anything, Locksley,” Killian laughed. “Relax.” “We’re just going to get some food and Lucas seemed certain Emma hadn’t eaten yet.” “You didn’t eat yet, Swan?” Killian asked, pulling back to stare at her like she’d just admitted to something a bit worse than not eating during a game.

“I did have some things going on,” Emma argued. “We’ll be right there, Robin.” Robin nodded, finally lifting his eyes and he muttered ok as the door slammed shut behind him.

“God, the Staples Center people are going to kill us for all the damage we’ve inflicted on that poor door,” Emma laughed.

“Good. Screw the Staples Center.” “That’s not a very PR positive response, Cap.” “Good thing you’re the only one here.” Emma might have actually giggled when he moved his eyebrows, doing something ridiculous with the side of his mouth and Killian groaned when he moved the wrong way, hand flying up to the stitches he probably wasn’t supposed to touch.

“You’re going to get yelled at by Victor again if you do that,” Emma said. Killian rolled his eyes.

“I’m more worried about Red.” “Ah, yeah, that makes sense.” “You want to go get something to eat with them or you want to just go back to the hotel?”

Emma tilted her head and, well, she hadn’t really expected the question. She was an idiot. And Neal was an ass. Who might be an anonymous source, but didn’t know a single thing about finding a home.

And she had an answer to Killian’s question – and maybe a few other ones as well.

“Let’s go get some food. You can lord your side-bet win over Scarlet. And I am kind of starving.” Killian looked at her and his answering smile was as ridiculous as trying to kiss her with several stitches in his lower lip. “We can do that, Swan.” “And I love you too. For the record, or whatever.” He kissed her again – quick and light and so goddamn meaningful it almost counteracted gossip site stories on its own. His arm slung over her shoulders might have done the rest. And they went out with the team and Killian bragged about his win and Ruby made sure Emma ate and they fell asleep together in a hotel room they weren’t supposed to be sharing in downtown Los Angeles.