#also someone hung their clothes on the rack outside the fitting rooms which is where u hang ur clothes when you're DONE fitting them & don'

[ronanlynchbf]

hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT

[sup-hoes-its-me]

A Hero III (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay, so this is definitely the last part. I had so much fun writing this tbh, i really hope you guys enjoy it. I love love love writing jealousy. This chapter is all fluff, so sweet it’ll give you cavities. God, the thought of seeing shinsou smile and be happy, wow. im in love with him. Have fun reading and comment if you want more shinsou in the future

word count: 5200

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

“Shinsou, what do you think of this?” she held up a dress on the hanger. The price wasn’t nearly as bad as the other things in here, and it wasn’t in an ugly color. It was purple, of course. She loved purple ever since she met her friend. Her notebooks were purple and so was her new bedspread. It was nice to curl up in a cave of violet each night, almost like a night-long hug from him. 

Gosh, she felt herself becoming flustered just thinking about it. You’re friends, Y/N. just because someone is nice to you does not mean they want to go out with you, seriously. She kept telling herself over and over in her head to focus on the task at hand.

They were shopping, specifically for her uncle’s wedding. She had literally nothing that looked mildly appropriate, her closet just stuff to the brim with uniforms and jeans and sweaters, nothing fancy. Two days before the actual ceremony, her mother woke her up early on a Sunday. “Go out and get yourself something nice to wear. I seriously cannot believe both of my children dress like complete slobs everyday.” Y/N heard her hothead mother say in her head once more. Did she really dress like a slob? She didn’t think so. Her clothes weren’t in fashion but also weren’t ugly. 

Shinsou peered up from his phone where he sat on the bench. He didn’t necessarily plan on going out to the mall that day, he was actually going to sleep for most of it. He was quite surprised when he woke up at 10a.m. to his phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. Without putting in much thought, he suddenly found himself dressed and walking down the road to her house. 

“It looks fine.”

“Just fine? If it’s ugly, you have to tell me because mom will make me return it and get something else,” she complained.

“In that case, probably not. It’s kinda plain, don’t you think?” he commented. He stood from the bench. “Although, I do appreciate you only looking at purple dresses, let’s try something else.” He hummed to himself, as he walked past her. He didn’t really have an eye for women’s clothes, not at all. He just looked at them and tried to imagine Y/N wearing it. How the colors would look against her skin, and how it would flatter her shape. He tried not to think about her body too much, it would fluster him  and he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes, he was sure of it.

“Let’s try red.”

“Red? Like blood?” she asked. He turned to look at her with a raised brow before he remembered she spent her days surrounded by her own blood, as that’s what he quirk entailed. Of course she would associate the color with it. Scrap that idea.

“Okay then, let’s try blue.” She nodded, agreeing with him. She never wore too much color, but that one wasn’t too bad. “Your budget is what? 100 dollars, right?” he asked as his eyes skimmed the racks in the area. Now that he looked at it, dresses really didn’t look that great when they just hung there. 

She stepped up to walk at his side. “Yes. Do you see anything you like?”

“Not really. I have to see them on you to know if they’re good or not,” he told her. His eyes trailed down to a modest blue dress, okay for a party with family members. “Try this one. And then,” he scanned the room once more before walking over and grabbing another one. “Try this one. I’ll wait outside until you’re done.”

She took the dresses from his hands and pressed them to her chest. She would have never picked either of these dresses as they weren’t her style. She was self conscious in the first place, so she tended to avoid wearing anything that would draw attention to her. Just the thought of walking around in a nice dress, eyes turning to stare, it made her feel anxious. 

Still, she was only with Shinsou. She didn’t have to worry about him seeing her. He wouldn’t judge or stare if she asked him not to. That’s the whole reason she brought him, because she wanted company and she trusted his opinion. If she looked bad, she was sure he would tell her to keep her from embarrassment. 

In the dressing room, she slipped out of her casual clothes and threw the dress over her head, letting it fall down to rest against her body. The fabric was soft against her skin, and she felt herself running her fingers along the fabric, sighing at how delicate the material was. There wasn’t a design really, it was a pretty plain dress, but it fit perfectly. Usually clothes on fit right in one place and wrong in another, but this one wasn’t like that. She would have to see what it looked like with the zipper up.

“Hitoshi, can you come in?”

“What?”

“I need your help. My arms aren’t long enough to pull up the zipper,” she called to him again. Hesitantly, he stood from the little viewing bench and knocked on the door, which she had locked from the inside. She unlatched the little hook and cracked it open enough for him to slip in. 

Admittedly, he felt weird, being in the dressing room with her; it felt so foreign to him. He kept his eyes trailed on the wall, not daring to look at her incase she was at all indecent. If Shinsou Hitoshi knew how to do anything, it was respecting women. “So what did you need?”

“Just do the zipper the rest of the way. I only got it halfway up,” she told him, and he looked down at her. She stood facing away from him, and indeed half the zipper was open. Carefully, with as much finesse as he could muster, he pulled up the zipper without touching much of her bare skin. He did rest a hand on her shoulder though to hold the dress in place.

You’re just friends. This shouldn’t even be a problem for you, he thought. But it was a problem. He felt flustered and a bit bothered, if he were being completely honest. He was so distracted he didn’t even hear what she was saying until she shook his arm. 

“Yeah?”

“I said, how does this one look? It’s super comfortable, I have to say that.” First, she smoothed down the skirt and then she raised her arms slightly to her sides so he could see the whole thing. 

He almost choked. She looked amazing. He loved seeing her in whatever clothes she wanted to wear. Uniform, big sweaters, jeans, pyjamas, it didn’t matter, she looked equally amazing in everything. It’s just something about seeing someone you care about so much in fancy clothes that leaves you shocked and mouth agape. 

Subtly, he cleared his throat, and looked away from her. “Well, that’s settled. You’re gonna leave with that one.”

Y/N turned a bit in the mirror, checking herself and the dress out. It did look awfully nice on her, but she just couldn’t see herself wearing something so nice. She would probably think that about any dress she put on, and since Shinsou said he liked this one, it must be good. “Are you sure?”

He looked at her again, standing beside her so he could see her in the mirror as well. He ran a hand through his hair, and nodded. “Definitely. I don’t think you’ll find anything better than that one.”

“Really? What about this exact dress but in purple?” she laughed. 

“Okay, maybe.”

He turned to leave, so she could get dressed but she stopped him. “Wait, you gotta unzip it too.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He walked up to stand behind her, his hands shaking only a little. He was surprised he wasn’t about to pass out. He rest one hand on her shoulder once again and the other pulled down the zipper slowly. It probably would have made it a lot easier on him if he just did it swiftly and then evaded the room immediately. Once it was down though, he was extremely quick to leave the room, undoing the latch, and sliding out of the room. 

“Are you okay, Hitoshi?” the girl asked, and from outside the room, he could hear her slipping the dress off and the cloth hitting the floor. 

Jesus Christ.

After a minute, the door unlatched and she walked out, carrying both the dresses on her arm. “Just have to put this one back and then we can get out of here,” she said, walking through the racks to hang up the second dress which she never even got the chance to try on. He was glad for that, as he didn’t have to go through that process again. He almost felt out of breath.

Why was he so immature? They weren’t little kids. She was his friend, and helping her put on her dress wasn’t anything to get worked up over. She was acting like everything was fine and nothing intimate just happened at all. It left him feeling almost ashamed with himself for overreacting. Clearly, she thought it was a normal thing.

As she bought her stuff at the counter, he shuffled awkwardly to the side. “Y/N, you wanna get something to eat after this?” Food would make him feel better. Carbs can do magic in almost all situations.

“Yes. Did you have anything in mind?”

“No, I thought I’d let you pick.” For a moment, she paused to exchange money with the lady at the counter. She hung the bag with her dress inside on her arm and turned to walk out of the store with her friend, who had his hands now shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

“Fried chicken,” she asked hopefully, looking up to him. 

“Sure. You find us a table while I go and get the food,” he told her, and she could only nod in agreement. It was fucking hard to find a table in these crowded malls. Slowly, her eyes scanned the room and the dozens of people gathered around the tables eating their meals of choice. Finally, out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a table with only one chair and some trash sitting on it, but that was as good as they were gonna get. She walked over and picked up the leftover tray and tossed it in the trash a couple feet away. 

“Excuse me, can I borrow one of these chairs?” she asked the table beside them with a couple extra chairs around, and they nodded, but their subtle glares told her she was bothering them. She cringed, but still dragged the chair over and took a seat. Her eyes wandered back over to Shinsou, who was waiting in line, but surprisingly, there was a girl standing right beside him. She was way too far away to hear what they were speaking about, but the girl seemed to be talking up a storm. 

Maybe he knew her.

Damn, she sure is pretty, Y/N thought. Why did Shinsou know such a beautiful lady? He could talk to whoever he wanted, it wasn’t her place to say anything, she was just curious. Really, really, curious. So, she buried her nose in her phone to avoid those thoughts. Shinsou was free to talk to whoever he wanted. 

It was fine, whatever. 

Really. 

Y/N couldn’t care less. 

...

Okay, so (not) secretly, she cared a fuck ton.

After a while, she heard the chair across from her scratch against the floor and a tray be placed in the middle of the table. “Y/N, what are you looking at so angrily over there?” he asked, and she looked up from her phone, bewildered. Was she glaring at her own phone, where she was just looking at memes?

“Oh, uh, nothing. Thanks for the food. I could have paid my share.”

He raised a brow, clearly confused. She never turned down free food. Not once. Who does that? “Why? I offered anyway.”

“I know, but like...Well, I don’t know. I guess you’re right.” She took a bite of her food, but it didn’t taste very good. Instead, it just tasted bitter, like how she was feeling. 

“Seriously, what’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said calmly, adding, “I’m just curious who that girl was you were talking to.”

He thought for a moment before remembering. He’d completely forgotten that some lady tried talking to him. She was so insignificant that he just pushed it from his mind. He had better things to think about. He replied casually, “Oh, her? I don’t even know. She just came up to me and started talking to me.”

“About what?” 

He shrugged. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t even think Y/N noticed her come up to him, nor did he think she would care. “Well, quite frankly, she was flirting with me, I think. She asked for my phone number and stuff…” Really, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. 

She felt her skin turn hot with anger, and even some embarrassment. Anyone could flirt with him, it didn’t matter to her how many girls he had on his phone. It wasn’t even her business. He could have a girlfriend and she couldn’t do shit about it. He was her friend, and she had to support him. 

Only, that was easier said than done.

“Did you give her your number?”

“No, actually I told her to fuck off and leave me alone,” he answered, very bluntly at that. “Are you okay? You sound like you’re mad with me now.”

She shook her head, frustrated that she let her emotions show through so much. She was never good at that kind of thing, but she wished she could have avoided this entire conversation all together. “I’m fine. It doesn’t even matter, let's just eat.”

“Are you...Shit, are you jealous?” he asked. His lips turned up in a grin, seeing her face morph into one of a person who has been caught red handed. Deer in the headlights sort of expression. He found it funny. He didn’t really care if she was jealous, of what exactly, he didn’t know. He just thought it was so incredibly hilarious that she was.

“N-No!”

“You definitely are.”

“And so what if I am?” she huffed, shoving a couple french fries into her mouth angrily. 

“Nothing really. I’m just surprised,” he teased, “Are you not getting enough attention, Y/N?”

“Shinsou, shut up! Now you’re just making fun of me!” she cried, covering her face with her hands. 

He smiled, watching as he squirmed in her seat. She was so cute. He was having fun, just sitting here in this food court was actually a ton of fun for him, and for him any kind of fun was pretty rare. She kept putting french fries in her mouth to hide how she was pouting and how she couldn’t even look him in the eye. He noticed, and it only made his smile last longer. 

Dammit, he loved her.

________________________________

Y/N sat at her desk, packing up her books and pens into her book bag. Class was over for the day, which meant she would go to the dorms and do her homework. A few days out of the week, Shinsou would go to train with his mentor, and today just happened to be that day. 

“So, you have training today with Aizawa-sensei?” she asked.

He shook his head as he leant against her desk, waiting for her to be done. “Not today, he’s out sick.”

“Oh, good. You can help me with my homework then.” She stood up from her desk and slung her bag over her shoulder. “You’re so smart, I’m jealous. I wish it was that easy for me.”

“You’re smart, just in a different way, Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah? What way? I’m stupid at everything.”

“You’re really good at picking friends.”

She laughed, pushing on his shoulder. Of course he would say that. He was never confident, in fact, he kinda hated himself. Most high schoolers do. But it was easy to crack jokes like that, and she always enjoyed them. It made him feel better about himself at the same time. To affirm time and time again that he was a good friend, good for her at least. Other friends he’d had before just ditched him because they didn’t like him. 

Just as she walked out the door into the hall, the purple haired boy following closely behind, another student from their class approached them, his hand tucked behind his back. She didn’t really know him all that much. His quirk was very insignificant, and he didn’t have much of a personality either. 

Truly though, when she was in class, she didn’t see anyone but the professor and Shinsou. It was pretty simple.

“Bakugo-chan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Um, sure, Tanaka. Is there something you needed?”

His eyes slid over to the tall, brooding figure behind her, who just stared off into space pretty mindlessly. She noticed the boy looking, but didn’t think much of it. Shinsou was fine there.

“Go ahead,” she said, and he snapped out of his daze.

“You see, I’ve been watching you since the beginning of the school year. I think you are the most beautiful and kind person I’ve ever met,” he confessed, his words nearly slurring together as he spoke so fast. She blinked, not expecting a confession from the boy, or anyone for that matter. She swore they had only spoken maybe two times, maximum. Why would he like her?

Shinsou looked over now from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to make the kid uncomfortable. He wasn’t a bad guy, just another student trying to become the best they could be. Yet, he really, really hated hearing someone else talk that way about her. He was almost sure only he thought those things about Y/N; how beautiful she was, kind, strong, smart, and perfect. Now it seemed other people did as well? The thought of other people...fantasizing about his sweet friend made him feel sick to his stomach.

Then, much to her displeasure, the boy pulled out a small bouquet of flowers that were obviously picked from outside in the courtyard as they were mostly a mix of weeds and leaves. He shoved them in her direction, urging her to take them. Reluctantly, the plants found their way into her hands. “I really hope you like the flowers. I tried to pick the colors that would compliment your eyes.”

Wow, okay. 

“Thank you, Tanaka-kun. They sure are pretty,” she said. Desperately, she wanted to just run away and pretend this encounter never happened. She never thought this would happen to her of all people. A loser like her. 

“If you aren’t dating anyone else, I would like to take you on a date this weekend. We can go anywhere you want,” he asked hopefully, his eyes full of anticipation and yearning. “Please, you won’t regret it. I’ll make you so happy, Bakugo-chan. Please.”

Oh, God, he was begging. 

“I’m sorry, but you should take these flowers back and give them to some other girl,” Y/N said as gently as she could, taking the boy’s hand to place the flowers into his palm. Immediately, the boy’s face crumbled, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. She felt so terrible for embarrassing him this way. “I’m really not the girl for you. My heart belongs to someone else, so I could never feel the same way for you.”

“I see,” he sighed. The boy’s eyes slid up to enviously glare at Shinsou, who looked right back with a vengeance. Everyone knew who Y/N really wanted. Maybe just maybe, the pair were only friends like they claimed. Tanaka was praying the entire day that she would accept his offer and leave Shinsou behind. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? I just can’t understand why you’d fall in love with a villain like him.”

Shinsou felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach at those words. He closed his eyes and tried not to think much about it, but memories of those bullies in middle school just came back into his mind in full color. He felt that sense of dread hang over his head. 

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a monster! All he does is manipulate people to do what he wants. The only reason you love him is because he brainwashed you!”

Shinsou rarely felt like he might cry, but this was one of those moments. It was one thing for people to call him a monster in front of strangers, but he felt worse knowing that he was saying this to Y/N. She somehow avoided hearing all those insults and accusations until now, and suddenly he felt like his head was benign held under water, completely hopeless and weak. Y/N wouldn’t just betray him like that, trust this guys word over his own, he knew that for sure. He just felt so overwhelmed with shame. It made him feel terrible that people actually believed the only reason she was friends with him was because he brainwashed her. Couldn’t he have nice things as well?

He never wanted her to see this side of him, the side people perceived him as. He wanted to run away to his dorm and never leave the room again. What was the point now that he knew people thought of him like that still. 

Y/N, much to everyone’s surprise, raised her hand and slapped their fellow student right across the face. “Fuck you!”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up, Shinsou.”

The boy who was slapped put his hand on his cheek and stared up at her in shock. She was so gentle and sweet most of the time. How could she slap him like that, enough to leave a mark? His precious and sweet crush. 

“You call this boy a monster again, and I will beat your ass, do you hear me?” she commanded, and when he didn’t reply, she shoved on his shoulder. He stumbled back, nearly falling into the wall on the other side of the hall. “I said, did you hear me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Shinsou Hitoshi is more of a man than you will ever be. Men don’t stoop to insulting others insecurities just because a pretty girl rejected him. Boo hoo, get a grip. You will never be half the hero Shinsou is,” she told him bitterly, glaring through narrowed eyes. Maybe she was being a bit harsh, she didn’t care. If it was one thing she learned from Katsuki, it was how to defend the people you love (even if it’s unnecessarily mean). Perhaps, she learned a bit too much from the blond...

She stepped back, letting her arms fall to her sides. “If I ever hear my name or Shinsou’s come out of your mouth again, I will not hesitate.”

He nodded, grabbing his bag off the floor and turning to run down the hall in the other direction. She brushed a few loose strands of hair from her eyes and sighed, letting her shoulders finally sink into a relaxed state again. It had been a long time since she felt such pure rage burn in her heart. Normally, there was rarely a time someone bothered her enough to make her angry. It just wasn’t who she was. 

Hearing those words about Shinsou sent her over the edge. No one would talk about him that way. Nobody, and she would make sure of it.

“Let’s go.” Her footsteps were practically stomps as she walked down the hall, her friend following close behind. “I can’t believe someone would have the nerve to say something like that to me about you? Like, who does he think he is?” Y/N grumbled, clenching and unclenching her fists by her side. 

“Really, Y/N, you didn’t have to do that. I used to hear that stuff all the time.”

“Exactly! No one deserves to be treated like that, and you’ve already experienced far more than anyone should,” she told him. “He really tried to ask me out and then right after tried to talk shit about you. What an ass. Some boys just can’t take rejection, can they?.”

He only watched as she kept walking, but he didn’t feel like saying much. She was in too bad of a mood to reason with. He never imagined her acting like that. Even when they were training, she never got angry or even frustrated. She was so calm and gentle. For a moment there, she sounded exactly like her brother. It scared him, to be honest. 

He appreciated her defending him though. It was the most anyone had done to stand up for him.

Worrying about her and his quirk completely washed away the fact that she admitted to loving him. It seemed that would be the topic of discussion another day.

________________________________

“Come on, come on. It’s almost starting!” Y/N rushed up the stairs, tugging Shinsou by the hand up . He was tired. He didn’t really have the time or energy to watch this firework show she was so excited to see. Still, he did it for her since she’d been waiting for weeks for it. 

No U.A. students were allowed to dress up in their formal wear and go to the shrines like everyone else on New Years, since big crowds could pose a danger to the students' safety. Instead, groups of students from different classes gathered up some snacks on the roofs of their own family houses to watch the fireworks at the shrine a mile or so away. She had a bag full of her favorite drink, fruit milk, on her arm, eager to binge and drink it all. She would probably make herself sick, but it's like that sometimes.. 

“Five minutes until midnight,” she muttered. She pushed open the attic window and slid through onto the roof, and was met with emptiness. Only a few small groups of friends were spaced out pretty far and few in between on their class building. She walked over to the side in the direction of the shrine, and sat down on the bench. Her milk plopped down onto the spot beside her.

Shinsou silently took a seat beside her. He checked his phone. Only a couple more minutes. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why she was so excited just for time to pass and some colored lights to go off in the distance. The noise was so loud though, he realized he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep that night anyway.

Happily, she popped the cap off a banana milk and took a long sip. He took one from the bag as well, strawberry, and popped the cap. “Why are you so excited for this anyway, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know. I just wanted to spend the holiday with you, and since we aren’t allowed back home for the holiday due to all those villain threats, I thought it would be a fun thing for the two of us to do together,” she told him. Honestly, she was just happy to spend more time with him. It felt so good, the cold air on her skin and the crickets chirping from the ground below. People around talked and laughed amongst their own groups. 

It was the perfect moment.

Shinsou knew about this tradition some people had on New Years. He was sure it was probably an American thing since All Might and Midoriya were talking about it. Apparently, you are supposed to kiss someone when the clock strikes midnight, and it grants you good luck for the rest of the year. 

He wouldn’t even attempt it. That was a complete invasion of her space. He just wanted her to enjoy the fireworks and her milk without any drama. Things had gotten a bit weird between them over the time they’d known each other. They were close, almost too close to be friendly. Other people clearly noticed; Bakugo, Aizawa, that boy from their class. Neither of them knew what to do about those feelings, so they just pretended they weren’t there, he supposed. It was easier that way.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to kiss her. He definitely did 100 percent want that kiss. He just couldn’t take the risk. What if everyone was wrong this whole time? What if she only thought of him as a very close friend this whole time and he got the wrong idea. He didn’t know enough girls to know how they acted with their guy friends. 

He knew he was hopelessly in love. It used to scare him, the thought of being so attached to someone like that. Now, he just felt happy to have someone to hold in his heart. It didn’t matter much if she ever accepted his love. As long as he could hold her and see her smile, that was enough.

Soon enough, dozens of rainbow colored fireworks lit up the sky. The sound was dulled by the distance between them and the shrine, but it was still loud enough to dull Shinsou’s thoughts. He leaned back on the roof on one hand and the other lifted the strawberry milk to his lips, taking a sip. 

Another year flew by faster than he thought.  It was no doubt the best year of his life so far.

He didn’t even notice her begin to speak until she said his name. 

“Shinsou,” she exhaled. “I really wouldn’t mind spending every year with you.”

He looked over to her. Her face was illuminated in bright pinks and blues, and she had that ever present smile on her lips. How could one person look like that? All he ever wanted and more, the girl of his dreams? 

“I think I’d like that, too.”

“Would you really?” 

“If I got to spend every single day with you for the rest of my life, it still wouldn’t be enough for me.”

She took a deep breath, tilting her head back to stare up at the deep blue night sky above, only a couple shining stars to be seen. For a long time, she felt like it was inevitable that he would find out, and now seemed just as good as any. 

“You know, Hitoshi, I think I’m in love with you.”

His lips curled up into a smile. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Y/N,” he confessed, “They say love at first sight isn’t real, but damn, it sure feels like it is.”

“God, why do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel like this,” she asked, placing her hand over her head and laughing. “Why are you so perfect?”

“I’m not. I’m perfect, but only for you.”

They sat beside each other in silence for a moment, taking in each other’s feelings. Her hand wormed over to rest on his, and he quickly intertwined their fingers. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. He could feel how warm her skin felt, and the smile on his face only grew. He would always remember this moment.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“Please.”

And so, he got that kiss he wanted all along. Along with many, many more to follow. 

For the first time ever, he felt like he made the right choice. He’d finally done something worthwhile with his life. He met his Y/N.

Thank you for supporting me and have a lovely day.

[ask-marcus-cally-and-ari]

Only Human

Chapter 15: Ride or Die

The trio had been allowed to wander while the Freaks discussed their next plan. Marcus, for his part, went looking for a cot or a bed. “I’m so f*cking tired.”

“We have a few spare beds in the medical ward,” a nearby intern piped up, looking up as Marcus passed her desk.

“Thanks.”

“My nephew talks about you a lot,” the intern added. “Jackie Ruez?”

“Our small forward. Nice guy,” Marcus smiled, sitting down. “I remember he didn’t know much English when he first started.”

“You and your friends tutored him, right?”

“That was all Cal. I just taught him basketball and Ari taught him how to paint.”

“He’s been painting a lot these days. “He went through 10 packs of watercolors in just three months.”

Marcus chuckled. “I remember swapping his acrylics with finger paint as a joke. He chased me all through school that day. I probably deserved it.”

“So that’s why he came home with paint all over his hands.”

“I had to wash my hair for an hour to get it all out.” Marcus smiled, and then sighed, a look of tiredness no teenager should have had on his face.. “...look, can you just... just tell him I’m okay?”

“Of course.”

“The last time I got in trouble, it was some kids from a nearby school who jumped me. My teammates tracked down each one, took some bats and metal pipes, and put them all in the hospital. In one night. I don’t want them doing anything like that now. They could get hurt, and on my mama, I bet those *ssholes would turn them just to f*ck with me.”

“You know, if you wanted you could ask Colonel Dyson to put them under HECU Protection. It’s like Witness Protection, just with a lot more security.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The intern nodded and picked up the nearby phone. “Do you want to call him yourself or do you want me to put in the request?”

“I’d like you to do it. I want to call my team.”

“There’s a phone in the break room over there.” The intern gestured down the hall to Marcus’ right.

“Thanks.”

---

“Man, this sucks! Marcus is who-knows-where being hunted and we can’t do sh*t to help!”

A young teen, no more than 14, grumbled sourly to himself while kicking over a box of wood chips in an abandoned warehouse. Another kid, a few years older than him, looked up from their phone.

“I got a lead a few hours ago. From what I can gather, it looks like he was heading to HECU Headquarters. I don’t know if they’ve made it there yet, though.”

“What can we do? These are, like, supervillains! And we’re just teenagers!”

“We could track them. Cally has a bunch of brainiac friends. Get them together and have them start looking for those *ssholes,” a tall boy, likely 17, suggested.

“Maybe we should get some of Ari’s friends, too,” another kid added.

“Yeah. The more, the better.”

The kid with the phone sat up and started briskly typing away. “Guys, you’re not gonna believe this, but it looks like Marcus has some Freaks of his own. You guys know Spyper and Intelligent Heavy, right?”

“I think so. Didn’t Spyper get his head chopped off and put on someone else’s body?”

“Yeah, he got his body swapped around with Sny.”

“Hey, Wilson. Start finding more good Freaks. The more join up, the more chance Marcus has of getting through this. Have the brainiacs help.”

“I think Marcus is way ahead of us. I found some security footage of the road outside HECU Headquarters and just take a look at who’s with him.” Wilson showed the other kids the footage, where a handful of Freaks accompanied the Trio inside, including Count Jester.

“He got the clown with him?” a younger kid piped up.

“Apparently. Now all he needs is us-” 

Ring! Ring!

“Huh? My phone!”

“Who is it, Jackie?”

“Unknown Number. Should I answer it?”

“Answer it, but don’t say anything. If it’s spam, they’ll hang up if they don’t hear anything.”

Jackie did. “Hello?”

“Jackie? It’s Marcus. Are you okay?”

“Marcus!” Jackie gasped. “Are you in HECU? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Yeah, I’m at HECU. Your aunt says hi.”

“Aw. How long have you been at HECU?”

“Jester teleported us here about an hour ago. Apparently they were tricked into holding us for the guy who wants to kill us, but that’s been sorted out, and they gave me a pet, so we’re cool now.”

“...I’m sorry, what?” 

“Yeah, everyone trying to kill us is working for one dude.”

“Yeah that doesn’t sound bad at all,” Jackie winced.

“Tell me about it. Anyway. I’m calling to ask you not to do something stupid.”

“Whaaaat? Psh, nah, we’re not gonna do anything stupid. Right, guys?” Jackie said with a snide grin, winking at the rest of his team.

“You worry too much, Quinn. Chill.”

“Yeah. Rest easy, we’re not gonna pull some sh*t.”

“Alright. Stay safe out there. And don’t go near any emo Snipers you see.”

“Sure thing, man.”

Jackie hung up, still grinning. “So. Who’s ready to hunt an emo Sniper?’

“I’ll get the others. Viktor. Does your family still have all those weapons?”

“Yeah. Which ones do we need?”

“As many as you can get. Especially long-range. We did tell Marcus that we wouldn’t approach the f*cker, so sniping is the way to go.”

“There’s nothing quite like exploiting a loophole,” Viktor grinned, heading out of the warehouse.

The other boy nodded and dialed a number. “Hey, Olga? Gather the brainiacs. We know where Marcus, Cally, and Ari are.”

“Wait, really!?”

“Yeah. A buncha Freaks are trying to kill them.”

“WHAT!?”

“Yeah. Apparently”

“Holy sh*t... Alright, what do you need help with?”

“Hacking. We need you to track down as many Freaks as you can.”

“On it.”

“And get Ari’s friends. We need numbers.”

“Gotcha.”

Hanging up that call felt heavy, like the life-changing moment it would be for everyone involved.

“Should we have anyone over at HECU to keep an eye on Marcus?”

“No. Then they’d know what we’re doing and try to stop us. We gotta stay off the radar. Wear masks. Disguise our voices. Make sure nobody can identify us.”

“I had a feeling we’d need these!” another kid shouted from the bottom of the warehouse, pulling along a rack of all black disguises.

“Hey, you’re the theater kid, right? I knew you were useful for something.”

“Yep! I had these costumes ready for awhile but we never needed them. UNTIL NOW!”

“Awesome. Guys, get home. We’ll meet back here tonight.”

“Alright. Nobody die overnight!”

“Don’t jinx it.”

The theater kid knocked on the side of the warehouse on their way out.

---

“Thank you all for coming. As you know, a bunch of superpowered *ssholes have decided to kill our friends, and we, the students of Dade City High, cannot allow this to happen.”

As the student body president spoke, Viktor handed weapons to everyone in attendance. 

“You are being given weapons now. If you do not know how to use them, Viktor will teach you on the way.”

“What’s the current plan of attack?” A younger student piped up among the crowd.

“We go to HECU. Its location is confidential, but our hackers have found it. We also have a van we stole from a junkyard and fixed to be our ride. You know, to make it harder to track.”

“How are we all gonna fit in one van?” Another student called from the back of the crowd.

“Like sardines.” 

“Also, I have a trailer. We can use that for training and extra space,” added a rich kid.

“Couldn’t we just use an old school bus?” One of the engineering students pondered. “Wouldn’t take much to jumpstart it, and nobody would be suspicious of a school bus going through Evo City.”

“From Dade City? That’s two states away,” put in a chess club student.

“What about an activity bus? It’s not uncommon for students to go on field trips that take them across state lines,” another engineering student added.

“That works. You two go steal it. We can take both.”

The engineering students nodded and gathered up their bags before leaving for the school’s parking lot, their bags clinking with metal on the way out.

“Did everyone pack some clothes and supplies?”

“Yeah, but why not electronics?”

The rich kid spoke up again. “I got a cheap phone plan. Everyone gets a phone. This way our parents can’t track us.”

“And they can’t be tracked by anyone else, can they?” a skeptical student inqueried, looking their phone over.

“I was kinda hoping you tech whiz guys could take care of that,” the rich kid replied sheepishly.

The small group of tech students all glanced at each other before sharing a collective nod. “Give us 10 minutes.”

“Good.”

“What do we do once at HECU?”

“Find out where our friends are. By force if necessary.”

“And if any hostile Freaks show up while we’re doing that?”

“Why do you think I’m giving you weapons?” Viktor deadpanned, holding up his own gun.

“Ask a stupid question,” the class clown teased.

“I mean like, one of the really bad ones. Like Painis. I don’t even think our weapons would work against him.”

“Probably run. Or run him over.”

“Let’s pray that Freaks like Nightmare Medic or HOOVYDUNDY aren’t part of this whole thing.”

“Hmm... hey, I just remembered. I have an aunt that works at HECU.”

“Uh... who are you?” the student body president asked.

“Melissa James.”

“Oh no,” the student body gasped in unison.

“...is that bad?”

“Are... are you related to Anita James, by any chance?”

“Yeah! That’s my aunt! She taught me how to build bombs. And tasers.”

“Holy sh*t! You’re related to a mad scientist! THE mad scientist!”

“Yeah, she’s a bit... eccentric. But the point is, she could be our in. And get us better weapons when we get there.”

“Isn’t she under constant surveillance though? I heard she blew up HECU twice in the last three months. That’s not something you just leave unmonitored.”

“In the same three months, she built a weapon that can level cities, a teleportation device, an army of attack microbots, and a shield generator. We could use those against stronger Freaks.”

“Would she even let us use them?”

“She’s a mad scientist who needs her weapons tested, and I hear her boss won’t let her give them to HECU soldiers. I’m not worried.”

“Well…”

“What choice do we have, Todd? Do you want them to kill Ari? Or Marcus? Or Cally? We’re desperate, and beggars can’t be choosers.”

The student sighed. “Alright. Give her a call.”

---

RING! RING!

“Hello?”

“Hey, Aunt Anita.”

“Oh! Hi, Melissa! How are you?”

“Not good. My friends are in danger. I think you may have seen them. Marcus, Cally, and Ari?”

Anita paused, lifting her pen off her notepad. “...yes, they just came in earlier today.”

“Some friends and I are coming to help him out, and we were wondering about using your weapons to do it.”

“Hmm... Come around the back of HECU. I’ll keep the door unlocked for you.”

“Heh... thanks, Aunt Anita. Also, could you maybe not tell those three about this? We told Marcus we wouldn’t do anything crazy, and if he finds out we’re doing this, we’re gonna get our *sses kicked.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Thanks.”

There was a nod, and Anita, the mad doctor who sent people running with a smile and a wave, hung up.

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 9

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 9 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 8 / Part 10

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing

Historical Inaccuracies: 

Only Freddie and Brian went to see Zandra Rhodes on that first evening. Also, this event occurred in 1974 and not in 1975, as I’m writing it :)

Word Count: 4.2k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Zandra bloody Rhodes?!” Roger cried for the hundredth time. “And she took your call?”

“Pretty fucking fantastic, isn’t it?” said Freddie excitedly.

The meeting had lasted hours, from morning until lunch— in which Roger and John had gone to pick up Indian takeaway— and into late afternoon. Freddie had a multitude of different ideas, and the others had passionate opinions on these ideas, so the morning meeting had quickly turned into an all-day event. Reid had left early on, claiming he had another meeting, this time with Elton— Elton bloody John— but you suspected he was just tired of you and Freddie and Brian and Roger and Deacy yelling ideas back-and-forth at the speed of derby commentators.

Now evening was rapidly approaching, the last sunlight of the day slipping slowly from the sky. The five of you were walking down the road to the flat of the one and only Zandra Rhodes.

Zandra Rhodes. You could hardly believe it. Sure, Freddie was brilliant, and persuasive too, but you hadn’t imagined that even he would be able to win an audience with one of the world’s most promising designers.

Freddie led the parade with you and John at his side, and Roger and Brian followed behind. Freddie glanced back at you, flashing a giddy smile. Roger stuck him a cigarette and the two of them sparked up in the amber glow of the streetlights. Deacy made a face, and you and he fell back to walk apart from the two smokers.

Brian was deep in conversation with Rog and remained that way, talking animatedly about something, a song, maybe, that you only caught snatches of because of the way the wind blew.

Just then, Roger made Brian laugh. Not quietly or shyly, but properly laugh, where Brian threw his head back and his shoulders shook and his smile spread across his face, broad and beautiful. You’d made Brian laugh like that once— when you’d sat on the wall outside of the Union Pub, months ago. Months ago.

It felt an age ago, it felt like yesterday, and how those two ideas could coexist was beyond you, and yet, exist they did. Brian was familiar, like the stars that wheeled above, like the soft sheets of your bed against your skin, like the strings of your guitar that were and would always be in E-A-D-G-B-E form. He was reliable, he was always there. If six point six seven times ten to the negative eleventh was the gravitational constant, then Brian was yours.

John’s voice startled you from your thoughts. “I see the way you look at him.”

You felt yourself flush, heat rushing through you in the same way that happened when you missed a step on the stairs and only just managed to catch yourself in time.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, don’t play silly with me, Y/N,” Deacy looped his arm through yours. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You’re always looking at him when he’s not looking at you, and you look quite besotted.”

You opened your mouth to speak, then realised you had nothing to say. You watched your shoes hit the pavement instead. “It’s nothing,” you said finally, lowering your voice. “I’m just a little...” you bit your lip, searching for a word. You gave up. “I mean, look at him,” you gestured vaguely in Brian’s direction. His elegant silhouette seemed to shimmer in the darkness, as though he were made of dark matter, effervescently gorgeous in the shroud of mystery.

Deacy raised his eyebrows. “I do, quite often, and most of the time, it’s to snap at him for being too obstinate with his guitar solos. I don’t,” he pointed to you, “look like that.”

“It’s nothing,” you repeated, shaking your head. “And even if it was something, it would be one-sided, anyway.”

John scoffed. “Ridiculous, Y/N, you’re being ridiculous. You’re all moony, and he goes all starry-eyed—”

The need to justify yourself was suddenly overwhelming. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little starstruck, but that’s all it is!” Your tone had gone shrill, and the heads of the others in front of you turned, wide-eyes and questioning expressions abundant.

“Deacy darling, what did you say to her?” Freddie piped.

“Not a thing,” Deacy raised his hands in surrender and Roger laughed.

Brian slowed until you and John caught up with him. He smiled at you, and you melted a little. “Deacy’s talking your head off, is he?”

John rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk, Mister Back-Chat.”

“Oh, leave us, John,” said Brian, and Deacy winked at you, jogging a bit to catch up with the others.

“Put those out, I’m here now,” you heard him say, and Freddie and Roger dutifully crushed their cigarettes.

“Oi!” said Brian. “In the rubbish bin, not on the ground!”

Freddie and Roger exchanged a look of ugh, mum, then once again proceeded to do as they were told.

Brian shook his head at them while you laughed.

“So, that rascal John Deacon bothering you?” he asked.

“I heard that!”

“Oh, he could never,” you said fondly.

“Does his hair make him more likable?”

You blinked, surprised that Brian remembered your conversations as well as you did. “No,” you said. “That’s your privilege and yours alone.”

Brian looked positively chuffed, and squaring his shoulders, he tugged the lapels of his jacket and pretended to fix a tie he wasn’t wearing.

“You’re secretly just as obsessed with your hair as everyone else, aren’t you?”

“No…”

“Yes,” you pushed him, “you are.”

“Okay,” he pushed back, “perhaps just a bit. But I used to hate it, you know.”

This surprised you. “Really?”

He nodded, tugging absently on a curl. “Brushed it out. Every day.”

“I’ll need to see those photographs,” you told him, admiring the way a ringlet framed his face in the dim light of the street.

“Ha!” said Brian. “Not if I have my way.”

“No?”

“They’re hideous,” he declared. “Can’t possibly let you see me like that. You’d never want to look at me again.”

Then, as though he really were afraid of you never looking at him again, his eyes fixed firmly upon yours, his gaze almost plaintive. The flecks of green amongst the hazel of his irises glittered, trimmed by dark, pretty lashes. The amount of sway he held with a single gaze would have been enough to disintegrate anyone.

“I think you underestimate the power of your presently curly hair,” you murmured, unable to look away from him.

Brian laughed.

Properly.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Freddie rang the haphazardly hung doorbell to Zandra Rhodes’ small attic studio, and the sound of high heels against wood reached you through the door.

You and the others exchanged glances of anticipation. Freddie looked about ready to burst with excitement. You couldn’t blame him.

The door swung open.

A broad-shouldered yet petite woman, perhaps about five years older than you, held open the door. Her denim trousers were decorated in gems and assorted swatches of fabric, and her top was flowing, stitched of a fabric that looked to be African influenced. Wooden beads hung around her neck, and her boots were a white leather. Her bright eyes twinkled.

“Hallo! Come in. You must be Freddie Mercury,” Zandra ushered you all inside, then shook Freddie’s hand.

“Oh, I’m delighted to finally meet you, darling,” Freddie beamed.

“Likewise! I’ve been listening to your records everyday,” said Zandra. “You really ought to make another one. Roger Taylor?”

“I am,” Roger shook her hand with a grin.

“And you must be Brian, the studious one,” Zandra quirked an eyebrow at Brian.

“Sometimes,” he said with a friendly smile, and she laughed.

“That leaves John Deacon— or is it Deacy?”

Deacy shrugged. “Either one works, hello.”

Zandra nodded, “Noted.” Then she saw you. “And who might you be, my dear?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Y/N,” you said, shaking her hand.

“Ah,” she smiled, “you must be… Brian’s wife?”

Freddie sputtered, then elbowed Roger who was looking like he wanted to laugh.

Brian’s cheeks had turned the same colour as Betelguse, the red star of Orion. You imagined your pallor was something similar.

“I’m sorry,” Zandra apologised, “Freddie mentioned someone in the group was married, and I just assumed, since—” she gestured at how you and Brian had come to stand side by side.

“No harm done,” John swooped in to save the day. “I’m the only one who’s married, but my lovely wife is at work, currently.”

“Y/N’s a friend,” Brian added. “Practically family, she’s been with us so long.” He had regained his composure and now had the gall to wink at you, so that your own composure crumbled further.

You managed a tight smile at Zandra, who above all seemed amused by the whole thing.

“Well, thanks for tagging along, Y/N. I could always use another set of eyes and another pair of hands to help me do fittings. Come on through,” she waved you all down a hallway.

Sorry, Freddie mouthed to you as you followed Zandra.

It’s okay, you mouthed back.

“Secret language?” said Brian from behind you, and his soft exhale tickled your ear.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you replied over your shoulder, and Brian chuckled.

Zandra led you into a wide room crammed to the rafters with racks of clothing in all the colours of the rainbow, and all the glamour of Marc Bolan. Although, you supposed the glamour was Zandra’s own; she had only designed for Bolan just last year.

“Voilà, mes amis.” She swept her arms around the studio, and Freddie let out a little gasp.

“It’s stunning,” said Roger, and the others murmured in agreement.

“Thank you,” the designer said humbly. “I like to think I work hard.”

“So, now what?” asked Freddie, and Zandra shrugged.

“Go wild. Pick some things off the rails so I can get an idea of your concept.”

“Oh, be careful saying things like that,” Brian intoned. “Freddie’s like a child at a sweet shop.”

Sure enough, Freddie was already rifling through clothing pieces like he was on the clock.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t destroy anything, by accident,” said John, and followed after him.

“I could never!” Freddie cried.

“By accident,” Deacy reiterated.

Roger ambled off to the other side of the studio, and Brian turned to you.

“Where to start, then?” you asked him.

He pulled a feathery hat down from a stand and plonked it on your head.

“Right here,” he decided. You dipped the brim of the hat and lifted your chin, posing. “Gorgeous,” said Brian, “but I think it needs something more…”

“What about this?” Zandra appeared with a swath of sparkly fabric, which she handed to Brian.

“Oh I shouldn’t— we’re not here for me,” you said. But Zandra shook her head.

“No one comes to my studio without the opportunity to feel fabulous.” She grinned, then swept away in a jangle of beads and gemstones.

“I think she’s right,” Brian said, and he draped Zandra’s fabric about your shoulders, arranging it with careful fingers. He adjusted your hat so that it sat at more of an angle. “Magnificent. I must be a genius,” he sniffed in a haughty manner, and you laughed.

“Your turn, then,” you declared, ushering him down a row of racks. “Here’s the starting piece,” you reached up and threw a silky, checkered scarf around his neck.

“Hmm…” you squinted up at him. He narrowed his eyes in response. From another rack you drew a fashion piece that was something between a kaftan and a kimono, printed with little birds. Brian bent his knees slightly so that you could wrap the material around his shoulders. He placed his hands on his hips and pouted.

He looked absolutely divine. His angles were accentuated by the way the fabrics hung from his frame, and his volume of hair and the heartbreakingly gentle line of his lips rendered about him a feminine sort of beauty that looked better on him than it ever would have on you.

All that was missing from the picture of glamour was the makeup.

“I think we need Freddie to do your eyeliner,” you said, leaning against the wall.

“Oh, love,” he said, and your stomach flipped. Leaning against the wall too, folding his arms and peering down at you, “you think Fred does my makeup? I’m glam too, you know.”

He was so close to you that his curls nearly hung over your face as well as his. It was difficult to breathe when he was this close, as close as when he’d helped you to play guitar the first time. You yearned for him to touch you, or for you to muster the courage to reach out and touch him. Still, no one moved. But his proximity was startling, and the thrill of it rushed down your spine like shooting stars.

“Well, Spaceman,” you said softly, “be glamorous. It suits you.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, and you could have sworn that his fell to your lips.

Then he looked away, and your shoulders sank.

But who were you kidding, anyway? You didn’t want this. You didn’t want him. You’d meant what you’d said to Deacy, because just like your thoughts of worthlessness, this too was all in your head; anything that truly existed was one-sided, a lonely phone call with no reply. Better to bury whatever fluttery notions that surfaced in you at the thought of Brian. He hadn’t wanted to give you the wrong idea. He didn’t want you.

“We should… We should see what the others have found,” you murmured half-heartedly, deliberately not looking at him.

“Oh. Yes… Good idea.” He cleared his throat quietly, a finger brushing the side of his nose. It was a nervous tic he had— you’d noticed him do it before, when he was uncomfortable. Around you, he did it often. You made him uncomfortable. Yet another reason to get as far away from Brian May as possible.

Brian retraced his footsteps, putting the checkered scarf and the kaftan-kimono back into their rightful places. You took off your flamboyant hat and replaced it from where it had been taken earlier, but you remained cloaked in the dark sparkly fabric, because you had no idea where Zandra had picked it up from.

“There you are, darlings!” Freddie said upon spotting you and Bri. “Come see— I’ve fallen in love.”

Deacy and Roger and Zandra joined you as well, and you found Freddie holding up a lovely white top with flowing sleeves.

“Fred, that’s a wedding top,” said Roger.

“And what is a performance if not the marriage of music and fashion?” Freddie proclaimed.

Zandra bore the expression of a proud mother. “He understands,” she said. Then she urged, “Try it on.”

Freddie was in and out of the changing room in moments, which was really quite a feat, given the structure of the white top.

“Oh, I see what you mean, now,” said Roger, a faint smile appearing on his lips at the sight of Freddie, who looked like an avenging angel, with his dark eyes and hair a brilliant contrast to the paleness of the top he wore.

John looked impressed too. “Stunning, Fred.”

“Very regal,” agreed Brian.

“Very Queen,” you said as Freddie spun in view of the mirror.

“Enough room to move about in, onstage?” Zandra asked.

Freddie nodded. He stopped spinning, facing her. “Darling, I feel I could fly.”

Zandra had genuinely gone teary-eyed. “Oh, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for people to feel.” Then she sighed, composing herself. She clapped her hands, “Time to get you fitted!”

“Excellent, Zandra dear,” said Freddie with a contented air. “Have you got anything similar that the others could try on, to be fitted as well?”

Zandra shook her head. “Sorry, that’s a one-of-a-kind. I’m going to have to fit you all to the same top, then have you tell me your design preferences and replicate the model.”

Deacy exhaled, “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“It will be. So how many am I fitting?”

Roger squinted at the white top Freddie modelled. “Mm. I might have a bit of a hard time drumming in that. Think I’ll keep browsing.” He disappeared between the racks again.

“Yeah, might get a bit on the sweaty side,” Zandra mused. She turned to John. “Deacy?”

“I’ve actually got my eye on another one of your other pieces.”

“Ah, lovely! Well, point me to that one, and I’ll sort that for you as well, while we’re here.”

Deacy went to retrieve his garment of choice.

“Brian, darling?” said Freddie in dulcet tones.

You watched the exchange from a distance, perched on a chair that was more for decorative than for accommodating purposes but lifted the weight from your weary feet nonetheless.

“You’d look like that lovely White Queen you’re always waxing lyrical about…”

Something shifted in Brian’s features at the mention of this White Queen, but you couldn’t distinguish a single emotion from the plethora of those that flashed across his face.

“How did thee fare, what have thee seen, the mother of the willow green; I call her name,” Freddie recited with a flourish of his hands. When Brian said nothing, only let his jaw tighten, Freddie went on. “And ‘neath her window I have stayed—”

“Alright, yes, I’ll do it,” Brian muttered through clenched teeth.

“Oh brilliant!” Freddie clapped.

You leaned your chin on your palm, wondering at the scene before you. When Brian’s stare caught on you, his eyes were so intense that you blushed and looked away. You felt like you’d been going through his diary and he’d caught you reading.

“Right,” Zandra dragged a crate towards where you were sitting, just as Deacy reappeared with a shiny black top, and Roger with a kimono. “I’m going to need some help, I think.” She tossed you a roll of measuring tape, which you caught deftly, despite your tiredness. “Will you take some measurements, please?”

“Yeah, no problem,” you nodded. She gave you some quick instructions as to which measurements she needed, then settled a pair of thick, round framed glasses on her nose, and went to work on scavenging fabric and threads.

You took Freddie’s measurements and then John’s, proving that both tops needed quite the alterations; they had been designed for women and thus did not fit the boys quite right.

Roger’s kimono, on the other hand, fit perfectly, and so he went on to peruse Zandra’s vast collection of fancy hats.

Freddie handed the white top over to Brian before joining Roger in the scavenger hunt for hats, and Bri went to change.

When Brian returned, you couldn’t help but stare.

Softness made his being— rounded lips, delicate curls, sleepy eyes— and he seemed wrong for this world; he belonged to the stars.

You stood motionless, the world spinning gently out of time.

And dry my lips no word would make. White Queen indeed.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and his voice too was soft.

You nodded but said nothing. Tearing your gaze away, you strode toward him and wound the measuring band behind him, around his back, drawing the ends to meet at his front. You felt his chest contract as your fingers skimmed his collarbone. But you wouldn’t let yourself think about how he breathed, how his head dipped toward yours.

“There, done,” you said, short of breath and scribbling down the measurements without much thought at all. Then you slipped away quickly, weaving through racks of clothing before Brian’s gentle touch could unravel you.

In your mad rush to get away from him, you ran straight into John.

“Deacy!” you cried when you collided. “Sorry!”

Deacy took one look at you and frowned. “Y/N. Stop running.”

“I’m not running,” you said.

“Only because I literally stopped you,” he sighed. “Stop running from Brian.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.” John sighed again, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, he spent the entire morning with his arms wrapped around you.”

It was true. Brian had made no move to get you away from where you’d perched on his knee that morning. If anything, he’d settled farther back into the plush of the settee to make you more comfortable, arms encircling your waist lightly, as though he feared both shattering you and not holding you tightly enough.

“Look,” Deacy had both hands on your shoulders now, compelling you to meet his eyes. You did, though with heavy reluctance. “Brian… he may have his cheeky side, but he’s not a flirt like Rog. You can’t pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

From the way your heart thrummed, anyone would have said you’d run a marathon. But the only thing that ran was thoughts of Brian, through your head.

You were breathless, “But don’t you see that I have to?”

Someone like you and someone like him. There was only an abundance of ways in which such an affair could fail.

“No,” said John firmly, but he didn’t get a chance to develop the argument further.

“There you are!” Roger exclaimed, sounding rather exasperated. “This place is a maze. Freddie says it’s time we’re off.”

Deacy frowned, still in his thoughts, but Roger roped an arm around you both in a Freddie-esque manner.

“We must be nearing Brian’s bedtime,” Roger said. “He’s awfully grumpy. Again.”

“That’s not—” Deacy began, but you glared daggers, and he backed down.

The three of you reached the door of the studio, where Freddie, Brian, and Zandra stood waiting, the former two back in their usual garb, and Zandra without spectacles once more.

You handed Zandra your list of measurements, and that was that.

The past few hours felt like they’d passed in a dream.

“So,” said Freddie when you’d bid Zandra goodnight and started down the road again, “we’ve got the costumes, the finances, and the music, more or less, sorted.”

Deacy smiled bemusedly, and Roger stifled a yawn as he nodded. Brian had sunken into silence, and there he remained, distant and inaccessible.

Freddie continued, “But what about a place to write it all? This new album? We need to get away from all of this city buzz. It’s distracting.”

“The city itself, or the people in it, Fred?” Roger chuckled.

“Aha-ha. Very funny,” Freddie elbowed Roger in the ribs. “Quite seriously though darlings, that empty lecture hall just isn’t doing it for me.”

“Don’t think it does it for anyone, excepting our two resident scientists,” Deacy joked.

You rolled your eyes good humouredly, but Brian gave no indication of having heard John’s quip.

“Any real ideas?” said Freddie.

No’s were mumbled and heads were shaken. But for you, a thought blossomed.

“Yes.”

They all— even Brian— looked to you expectantly.

“Well?” Freddie prompted.

You wrung your hands, swung them by your sides. “Well, it might be a little silly.”

Freddie shrugged. “We’ve got nothing, Y/N dear, so have a go.”

“My family owns a farm…”

“Go on.”

“My dad has a recording studio.”

It wasn’t anything fancy, but he did, and the studio was fully functioning in every sense.

“Does he really?!” Freddie exclaimed with childlike fascination.

“That’s pretty fantastic, Y/N,” Roger commented, genuinely interested and for once devoid of sarcasm. “Do you think he’d let us use it?”

Deacy wondered aloud, “Do you think we could stay at your farm?”

“At a reasonable price, of course,” added Freddie.

“Your family has a studio,” Brian repeated, as though he were only just catching on.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m sure you could use it, and stay,” you blurted.

What the hell, stop talking! your internal monologue reprimanded you.

Freddie’s face was lit up like a ferris wheel, and Roger and Deacy exchanged a glance of excitement.

You grinned back, their happiness contagious, until your eyes caught on Bri’s and your heart skipped a beat.

“When can we go?” Freddie inquired, looping one arm through yours and another through Deacy’s, who in turn linked arms with Roger, who pulled Brian into the chain.

“The summer holidays,” you said, as it was the first thing that came to mind. Apparently, the link between your brain and your mouth had been severed. “When I go home to visit anyway, and I can take some time off from studying.”

“Oh this is brilliant!” cried Freddie, pressing a delighted kiss to your cheek. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

But you couldn’t stop looking at Brian, and now you were inwardly kicking yourself; only a day ago, you had resolved to get as far away from Brian as possible, not spend an entire summer with him!

But from the way Roger cheered and Deacy literally waltzed down the deserted street with Freddie as partner, there was no backing out of this now. You would only let them down, and that was one thing you could not bear to do, no matter how selfishly your thoughts might have been inclined.

You would just have to face the dire consequences of your actions.

Even if those consequences involved Brian May. 

And his damning smile.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: the ridge farm era is coming up!! fun fact— this whole fic was inspired by a dream i had about living on ridge farm when queen turned up. the prologue to starstruck is actually a transcript of my dream. wild.

taglist: @melting-obelisks​ @hgmercury39​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @topsecretdeacon 

Masterpost / Part 8 / Part 10

[ikenbar]

A Date with Kiro: The Costume Shop

Howdy folks!

So, I’ve had the idea for dates supporting my oc, Ikamara for some time now but I wanted to go a little farther in her story before trying anything. But now we are at Chapter five so HERE WE GO!! 

I also want to use the dates to show off who would be the main fella for the next chapters!! and  SURPRISE!! Kiro will be the main for the next chapter!! :D So excited for this chapter you guys have no idea. And I’ll be able to show it off next week!! Stay tuned~ ;P

-Ike and Bar Productions

Setting: Right after the happenings of Chapter four. Ike has a weekend off so she spends it investigating some leads on the Montu case.

To understand some details about the Montu case, feel free to read Chapter one, part one of my fanfiction here! If you’re just here for the sake of a Kiro date, enjoy your stay! You don’t have to read the fanfiction to understand what is happening but it would make more sense! :D

Warnings: There are none. Unless you have a problem with tight clothing and/or cute gay moments.

Date with Kiro: Costume Shop

"Sorry, mam. Like I said before, we don’t sell that here.”

I pouted, dropping the mask in my hand slightly. I had made a goal to visit all of the costume shops in Loveland city, searching for the mask Montu had sent me, hoping to find one that had sold it. But the city only had three costume shops, and I had been through all them before ten on a Saturday.

Sensing my disappointment, the shop owner continued, “If it would make you feel better, you can have a look around. I don’t know. Maybe they took something apart from my store to make it.” I thought a moment, then nodded, shoving the mask into my messenger bag. I turned and looked around the shop. It was small but jam packed full of strange outfits and costumes. Some of which seemed to be vintage. This intrigued me.

I had barely taken one step into the store before a buzzing came from my pocket. I pulled it out and froze. 

It was Kiro.

I still hadn’t quite accepted the fact that the Kiro was now one of my frequent connections. But there he was, calling me on a Saturday like we were actual friends… at least I hoped we were. Maybe I was just a question he was trying to answer. After all, how we met left a lot to the imagination.

Without wanting to waste anymore time, I quickly answered the call.

“Speaking.” I said, as casual as I could.

“Hey Super Stranger! How are you?”

Instantly my sour mood disappeared as Kiro’s happy voice filled my ears. Kiro had given me that nickname when I had saved him from a car accident. I had my motorcycle helmet on so he couldn’t see my face very well. He had called me his hero and had given me a nickname to commemorate it. And, though the nickname was corny, it never ceased to bring butterflies to my stomach. “I’m alright.” I mused, walking further into the store as I spoke, “How are you?”

“I’m great!” Kiro sang, “Guess what?”

“... What?” I asked, my smile faltering slightly.

“I found this amazing little stand that serves the best drinks! You’ve gotta come try it!”

“What- Now?” I scoffed.

“Yeah!” Kiro sang, “I don’t know when they are closing so it has to be now!”

“I’m a little busy with work.” I said, pulling at various costumes from their racks, “I don’t think I’d be able to leave it so easily.”

“You work on the weekends?” Kiro laughed slightly.

“Well superheroing isn’t really a part time gig!”

“But even superheroes need breaks!”

“Yeah, well, crime never rests.”

“But they make an amazing hot chocolate! They add espresso for extra flavor!”

The mention of coffee instantly changed my attitude.

“What do you say? Just one drink!” Kiro’s pleas increasingly became higher pitched, as if he was a child promising to do chores for a piece of candy. 

Before I could say another word, a scream came from Kiro’s end of the phone. “Oh no.” Kiro whispered with dread on his tongue, “I’ve been spotted! I’ll text you the address and you can just meet me here!”

“Are you sure that’s a good-”

“No time to talk!” Kiro hurriedly said, “Gotta go! Later Stranger!” And with that, he hung up the phone. I looked down at the phone, shaking my head uselessly at it. Despite the disapproval I felt, a smile still crept it’s way up my lips. There was no way of saying no to that man.

 With new found motivation, I searched the variety of costumes for anything pertaining to Montu. Without realizing it, I had begun looking through the superhero suits. As I scanned the clothes, I pulled out a particularly familiar looking costume. My foster brother, Sam, and I used to watch old cartoons from CDs that our foster father kept in his attic. There were a thousand collections to pick from but one cartoon in particular truly piqued our interest. 

Boot Fever. 

It was about a group of superheroes that fought villains who tried taking over their already crumbling city. It was a very old show with a very old premise but, man did Sam and I eat it up. From the characters to the animation to even the terrible voice acting, we watched that show late into the night. I may not have had great memories of my childhood, but those memories are ones I would take to my grave. 

I thought the show had long been forgotten but there I was, holding the main protagonist’s outfit. Her name was Red Sparrow. Her super power was to be able to transform her body into anything she thought of.  Sam compared her to me all the time. Though the only point he could connect us to was the fact she was strong. Because, other than that, we were complete opposites. She was very dramatic and in tune with her emotions. Not to mention her suit was extremely form fitting. And, at the time, the tightest thing in my closet was my yoga pants. Even then they would be paired with an oversized sweatshirt and a flannel around my waist.

Past all of that, I loved the fact that she wore a full face mask. It resembled the face of the bird she was named after and, though the design was simple, made her character a big hit in her time. Women's appearances in shows in that time were based solely on how revealing they were. Red sparrow seemed to take that and turn it on it’s head. Her jumpsuit completely covered her whole body, hiding her identity completely.

I plucked off the mask from the top hanger and turned it over in my hands. No one would know it was her unless they took it off. She was a mystery. I longed to be that mystery ever since I was a kid-

A loud bang came from the front door. I ducked behind the clothes rack, immediately bracing for a fight. Instead, I was met with the sound of someone panting heavily. “Welcome in, sir.” The owner of the shop said sarcastically, “Is there something I can help you find?” Curiosity overlapping my shock, I peered around the rack. 

There, weakly leaning on the door, was Kiro. He had his eyes closed as he gasped for air. He was in his usual disguise of sunglasses and a black hoodie, but the hoodie’s armpits looked to be drenched in sweat as his sunglasses slid down his equally wet face.

I quickly sunk back behind the rack, frozen in fear. Kiro can’t be here! I screamed in my head, If he tried talking to me he’d know I was Super Stranger! Then I would only disappoint him by being some lowly tv show producer with no regard for feelings! Not to mention, holding a scantily clad costume of an old tv show. I have to act fast.

Looking down at the mask in my hand, a stupid plan came to mind. Not having the time to second guess it, I quickly threw the mask on and pulled the rest of the costume off of it’s hanger. I hurried to the dressing room and pulled the curtain shut, praying that Kiro didn’t notice me go in there. I quickly started stripping down, folding my clothes and shoving them into my messenger bag as I moved. 

As I changed, I heard some screaming coming from outside of the small shop.

“I saw him go this way!”

“Quick! Don’t let him go too far!”

Some rustling came from inside the store as Kiro’s familiar voice traveled the air, “Sir, I need a place to hide! Please! Help me!”

I had never heard Kiro so desperate. Half of me wanted to jump out of the dressing room right then to help him. The other half would rather finish getting dressed first. 

The latter won.

 I pulled on the skin tight suit, regretting it instantly as it squeaked over my skin and tugged at my unshaven leg hairs. 

“I don’t know, sir.” the shopkeeper droned, “That sounds rather suspicious to me.”

“I’ll give you my autograph.”

“There is a dressing room over there you can hide in.” The shopkeeper spoke quickly and excitedly. I cursed in a whisper as I picked up my pace. After a moment of pause, quick steps approached my hiding spot. With one last zip of my costume, thankfully from the front, the curtain to the room shot open. Kiro hadn’t looked at me yet, still focused on the door where the screaming had only further increased. But, once he had, his face went completely red. 

“I-I’m so sorry!” Kiro stammered, eyes darting straight to the ceiling, “I didn’t know this room was occupied!” A loud bang came from the store’s door again. Without lingering on the awkwardness anymore, I grabbed Kiro’s arm and pulled him into the room. I pushed him into the corner and held a finger to the mask’s beak. Still bushing wildly, Kiro nodded, holding his eyes on my mask all too securely. 

High pitched voices rang through the store as they searched the shop. Some of them were questioning the shopkeeper. Others were whining about how small the store was. The sound of metal scraping against metal chimed in the mess of sounds as the girls started searching the clothing racks for him. Soon the interrogating and complaints turned even more sour as they slowly came up with nothing.

Just as I thought we were in the clear, a shadow appeared under the dressing room curtain. “Hey!” A particularly annoying voice called, “Is there anyone in there?!” I froze. Kiro couldn’t answer. He was the person they were looking for! But I couldn’t answer either because Kiro would know I was Super Stranger!

“Hello?!” The girl impatiently called. I felt Kiro’s eyes on me. 

I sighed.

“Occupied.” I resolutely boomed. The shadow flickered.

“S-sorry!” She said, obviously startled by my voice. The shadow quickly disappeared. Avoiding Kiro’s eyes, I walked over to the curtain and peered out of the room, just in time to watch all the girls leave the store. I sighed once again and straightened myself, letting the curtain fall back into place.

“You should be safe now.” I said, turning back to face Kiro. He was staring at me wide eyed and mouth agape. His face had significantly returned to it’s normal hue, if not for a slight blush on his cheeks.

“S-Super Stranger?!” He scoffed, finally letting his eyes stray from my face and to my body. I folded my arms and popped my hip.

“Eyes up here, chief.” I deadpanned, signalling for him to adjust his gaze. He did so, his blush rushing back through his face.

“Sorry!” He chuckled nervously, pulling his eyes from me completely, “I just never thought you’d have such a…”

“Yes?” 

“... Such a love for such an old show! I mean, how old do you have to be to know who Red Sparrow is?!”

“Apparently not old at all.” I walked over to Kiro and tilted my head so our eyes met, “Suggesting that the twenty-three year old Kiro knows about it.” Kiro tensed. Then he laughed, releasing some of the obvious tension that rode on his shoulders. He looked at me adoringly through the mask.

“I can’t believe it, Super Stranger! You saved me again!” Kiro raised his arms. I held a hand out.

“They were just some fangirls.” I insisted, pushing Kiro backward, “No big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal! Who knows what they would have done if they caught me! Let me make it up to you.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Come on it’s the least I can do! Hey! That drink stand I was telling you about isn’t too far from here! Let’s go there!”

“And how do you expect to get out of here with those girls looking for you?” I asked, folding my arms again. Kiro’s eyes flickered back to my body. Then, a strange emotion sparked in his eyes as he let them linger there.

“I just need a new disguise!” He said rubbing his hands together. I slowly looked down at my outfit.

“... If you think you’re getting this-”

“No, this shop is full of costumes! I wonder…” Kiro walked past me, being careful not to touch me. He paused at the curtain, checking that the coast was clear, then he moved out of the room. I had only been alone for a couple of minutes until Kiro had returned, costume in hand. I froze.

In his hands was the costume of Complex Cell, the sidekick to Red Sparrow. He could duplicate himself up to a thousand times and not break a sweat, easily confusing the enemy long enough to take them down. He also just so happened to be Red Sparrow’s love interest. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“What do you mean, Sparrow?!” Kiro beamed.

>>>

“I can pay, Kiro.”

“Who is this Kiro?!” Kiro boomed, handing the shop owner his card, “For I am COMPLEX CELL!!” I rolled my eyes. The moment Kiro had put on the costume it was like he had completely disappeared, only to be replaced by Complex Cell. The overly confident, motivating, annoyingly positive sidekick of a superhero… so in reality not much had changed other than how he spoke, which was cute at first but it got boring quick.

“Come, dear Sparrow!” Kiro laced his arm into mine, “Hot chocolate awAITS US!!” He took his card and skipped out of the store, pulling me closely behind him. 

The moment I stepped out of the store, I immediately felt the eyes of the world on me. I may have been comfortable with my body but I had never been that exposed before. I normally would be wearing at least a jacket but now… 

“Hey.” Kiro tugged on my arm, “You ok, Sparrow?”

“I’m not Red Sparrow.” I said through my teeth, “Do you realize how much we stand out?! Everyone’s staring!”

“The sidewalk is practically empty.”

“Emphasis on practically.”

“Stranger,” Kiro laughed and tapped my arm lightly, “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Remember, you’re not the only one dressed up like this! I’ve got your back! Besides, you look amazing!”

My heart leaped through my throat, “... You really think so?”

“Of course!” Kiro looked down at me. His mask only covered the top half of his face, exposing his glistening smile, “I’m disappointed more people aren’t looking! More people need to see how amazing you look!” I elbowed Kiro in the side but still felt the uneasiness lift from my shoulders. There was nothing Kiro would say that could make me hate him.

“Red Sparrow!?”

Kiro halted in his steps and spun around. A small child smiled brightly at Kiro and me. She was tugging at her father’s jacket, pointing at us excitedly. “Dad! Dad, look!! It’s Red Sparrow and Complex Cell!” Kiro released my arm and struted confidently towards the kid.

“Hello, dear child!” Kiro boomed, , smiling brightly and laughing dramatically as he knelt to the little girl’s eye level, “I see you have spotted Sparrow and I! But I am very surprised that someone as pretty as you could know about us!”

“I watched you guys win battles with my mom!” The girl giggled, blushing at Kiro’s shining face, “I really like how you guys save the day! Everyday! I especially like Red Sparrow.” The girl looked hopefully up to me, “She’s my favorite!” 

“Well today is your lucky day!” Kiro turned to look at me as well, smile somehow brighter than before, “Isn’t it, Sparrow??” I looked between the two of them, frozen in place. I know what Kiro wants. He wants Red Sparrow. But I'm not Red Sparrow! I’m Ike. The horrible, cold, distant-

A sparkle flashed across the little girl’s eyes. A sparkle I was all too familiar with…

I sighed.

“My dear adventurer!!” My voice jumped to action as I threw my hands in the air and cat-walked over to the girl, “I am honored to be considered your favorite superhero! Pray tell, just how are you doing this fine day?” I knelt down next to Kiro and posed for the girl. Her face lit up beautifully, smiling brighter than even Kiro. Before I could say anymore, she ran into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly and nearly tipping me over. I kept my arms out, looking to Kiro for any kind of help he could give me. He merely grinned, flashing me with adoring eyes. I frowned uselessly at him. He was no help. 

I patted the little girl softly on her back, “M-My! You startled me.” I awkwardly said in Sparrow’s voice, “What’s this for?”

“Last year, my mommy died.” The little girl’s whisper stunned me even further, “She was sick and spent a lot of time in her bed. But we would still spend time together to watch you save the day! She said that she liked you because it didn’t matter what happened to you. You would always make sure the bad guys would lose. And that’s why you’re my favorite! Because you were my mom’s favorite!”

Anything I wanted to say was blocked by a lump forming in my throat. Tidal waves of emotions crashed through my heart as the girl’s grip remained tight around my neck. I may not have had that kind of experience before, nor did I want to experience it, but hearing it come from such a small voice made me feel so bad for her. Like I was next to her on that bed and watching those shows with her mom. The only person I watched those kinds of shows with was Sam and if I were to lose him…

I wrapped my arms around the little girl, pulling her closely to me as I cradled her. “You and your mother have quite an amazing taste.” I said, heroic voice faltering slightly, “But, you should know one thing. I am only a hero because you allow me to be one.” The little girl pulled away from me.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her big eyes filled with curiosity. I smiled lightly and moved my hands so I was holding her arms.

“I am only a hero to protect people like you! Without you, I would be nothing.” I tilted my head and winked at the girl through my mask. The girl shook her head and pushed my hands down. 

“That’s not true.” She smiled, “You don’t need someone watching you to do the right thing! You should be able to do it because you know it’s right! That’s what my mom always said!” My finger twitched. Without a moment to waste, the girl turned to her father.

“Daddy! Daddy! Can you take a picture of us!!”

>>

The girl and her father walked joyfully away, leaving Kiro and me in silence. A hand rubbed my back. “You alright, Stranger?” Kiro asked, finally dropping his hero facade. 

“... How can a girl that young be so smart?” I asked softly, folding my arms and adjusting my posture to one that better suited me instead of Red Sparrow. Kiro laughed.

“You know, I was thinking the same thing!” He said through a chuckle, “I guess it’s true that wisdom comes from experience.” Kiro’s words left us in another meaningful silence.

“... She reminds me of my foster brother.” I said, my voice trailing slightly. Kiro’s head snapped to me in my peripherals. 

“You… were a foster kid?” Kiro asked, tone shifting dramatically.

“We used to watch Boot Fever all the time when we were growing up.” I continued, ignoring Kiro’s question, “He would dress up and pop popcorn because he was so excited to watch it with me.”  I turned and caught Kiro’s sparkling eyes. I rolled my own and shoved him from me. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” I deadpanned. 

“Stranger!” He said, closing the distance between us again with open arms, “You’re opening up!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” I mused, looking round the area we were standing in, “Where is this drink stand you have been raving about?”

“Oh!” Kiro quickly grabbed my hand and pointed behind me. A cute, wooden, mobile drink stand  sat on the other side of the street. Steam wafted up from a false chimney, gracing the cool air with the soft smell of caramel and cinnamon. Two people stood in line for the drinks, but other than that the street was nearly empty. “Luckily for us, those girls didn’t see me at the stand.” Kiro excitedly said into my ear, “And there is no line! Let’s go!” Kiro pushed against my back. I quickly swatted him away and started walking to the stand on my own. Kiro quickly followed, clapping his hands together like an eager child.

The couple at the stand left with their drinks, leaving room for Kiro and me to walk up. The woman manning the stand looked me up and down. A charming smile flashed on her lips. “Red Sparrow?” She asked, leaning on the counter and arching an eyebrow.

“Barista?” I asked, folding my arms again. She laughed and stood up straight.

“No need to get defensive, Red.” The barista said, “You look good!” A sharp blush struck my cheeks. Arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me backwards and into a chest.

“I know, right?!” Kiro giddily chimed, rubbing his head into my shoulder. I rolled my eyes and flicked Kiro’s forehead. He whined and pulled away from me to rub his head. The barista chuckled and turned to her drinks.

“So, what will it be, heroes?” She asked, avoiding any more eye contact with me. I looked at the menus on the side of the stand, then at Kiro.

“... I’ll have an iced caramel macchiato, subed with white chocolate mocha, coconut milk, and a mocha drizzle.”

Kiro and the barista looked at me in shocked silence. I turned calmly to Kiro. “Anything you’d like to add, Cap?” I asked Kiro casually. His look of astonishment never faltered.

“...You really drink that kind of drink?” He asked with a laugh.

“Oh not at all.” I tactlessly chimed, casually looking at the tip of my gloves, “I just told you I was a foster child. I’ve got to throw you off my scent before you figure out my secret identity.”

“Oh a drink order won’t throw me off!” Kiro laughed and casually approached me, “Just you wait! I’ll figure your identity out and we can be heroes together!... Speaking of which,” Kiro leaned forward, eyes shining beautifully, “Did you ever come up with a superhero name for me like you promised?”

I didn’t know if it was how close he was standing to me, the soft aroma of romantic scents, or the fact that he fit into that superhero costume so well, but every word I wanted to say got caught in my throat. All I could do was look him in the eyes. Eyes so gorgeously blue, I could swim in them…

“Hey, Red.”

I snapped to and looked over at the barista. She shook the iced drink in her hand. “You gonna pay for this or make me stand here holding it in the middle of fall?” She asked, tone dripping in annoyance. I cleared my throat and nodded, taking the drink from her. 

“As for you, Captain.” I said, regaining my composure as I turned back to Kiro, “Your hero name is one of importance. I will tell you what it is in due time.”

“So in other words, you don’t have one yet.” Kiro sighed, pouting slightly.

“I do too!” I huffed, stepping away from the stand and gesturing to Kiro to follow, “I’m just not going to expose it in a place where everyone is listening!” Kiro laughed and pulled me into a firm side hug.

“Alright Stranger, I’ll let you off this once.” He sighed, pulling me down the street with me by his side, “So what are you up to for the rest of the day! Are you free to hang out?”

“Me?” I scoffed, brushing off Kiro’s hand from my shoulder, “What about you? Does Savin even know you’re out here?”

“Today’s my day off! Which means I’m all yours!... if you’ll have me?” Kiro’s eyes sparkled like diamonds as he awaited my answer. My hand drifted to my messenger bag where a lump graced my fingertips. I dedicated the whole day to finding anything I could about Montu… but I suppose the costume shops were a bust, and I had no other leads to follow… 

“... Where to first?” I asked, adjusting the messenger bag on my shoulder. Kiro beamed and laced his arm in mine. With that, we had continued our walk down the street, starting a meaningless conversation and going nowhere in particular. And, for the first time in a while, 

I was alright with having no where to go.

(Next)

[eeveedel]

22 noble alpha and peasant omega

“I don’t owe you an explanation” 

--

Louis worried his fingers in the folds of his plain dress as the view outside the carriage window changed from low rooftops to manicured swaths of trees. They were only a few minutes away from Harry’s estate now, but for once, the alpha wasn’t by his side. Their wedding was only in a few days now, and Louis had to be at the house for a few final touches. Most importantly, he had to attend a party with some of Harry’s close family and associates today, which was already making his stomach turn a bit at the thought.

When the carriage arrived at the front of the estate house, Harry was already outside, waiting with a patient, wide smile at made Louis’s heart lift a bit. When the driver came around to the open Louis’s door, the alpha ran up, waving him away and instead opening the door on his own.

“Hello, my sweet,” Harry said as he helped Louis out and gave him a generous kiss on the cheek, “Someone will get your trunks. Let me walk you to your rooms.”

Louis nodded, letting Harry wrap an arm around his back and lead him into the house. He had walked through the enormous doorway many times by now; had taken in the marble foyer and been greeted by a small army of servants, but it still made him blush a bit every time.

“You’ll have to stay in the guest wing until the wedding night, I’m very sorry,” Harry said as they walked towards the main staircase, “You’ll tell me if it is not up to your liking, won’t you?”

“I will,” Louis said, although admittedly the thought of bringing up any changes was a bit daunting.

Harry nodded happily and then squeezed Louis’s waist.

“I hope you’ll enjoy the party tonight, too,” Harry said, “I know many people are looking forward to seeing you.”

“Oh,” Louis managed, “Yes.”

In truth, his stomach had not stopped churning at the thought, but he pushed it down. It would soon be his main role to attend to parties, and he didn’t want to cock it up so soon.

Harry soon led him to the east wing of the house, away from Harry’s own private rooms, and they arrived at the main guest quarters. The bedroom inside was four times the size of Louis’s family’s entire one-floor home, with an enormous bed covered in a bright white blanket, and a full row of windows that looked out to the gardens. His trunks had already been brought up and set on the floor, although the scuffed up leather looked out of place against the polished floors. He suddenly hoped Harry replaced them quickly; so he didn’t want to have anything that would look out of place.

“Open the wardrobe, pet, I have a surprise for you,” Harry coaxed gently, snapping Louis out of his thoughts. The omega nodded and went over to the large wardrobe across the room, opened its doors cautiously. He inhaled once the doors were open; it was empty save for a pair of prim white shoes and a pale blue dress covered in lace ruffles and satin bows that hung from the main rack.

“Oh,” Louis let out, “It’s lovely, Harry, thank you”

“I used the measurements from your last trip to the tailor,” Harry said, “Do your dresses still fit alright?”

“Yes,” Louis said, although he blushed a bit, “They’re getting a bit tight around my belly, though.”

Harry offered him a gentle smile, and Louis rushed on.

“Those little biscuits you sent me were just so good,” Louis said, “I tried to save them for the whole week but I ate them all in one night.”

“Darling, in a few days you can have a package of those biscuits every hour if you’d like,” Harry laughed. He came forward to kiss Louis on cheek and pick up the dress from the rack, “I’ll take this to my seamstress and she can let it out a bit for the party, just to make things more comfortable. You just relax until then, I’ll come fetch you.”

Louis just nodded again, already thoroughly exhausted from his afternoon of traveling. Harry swept off with the dress still in tow, and Louis sat down heavily on the bed, eventually laying down. It was the softest bed he had ever laid upon, and his eyes already felt heavy. He dared to let his eyes close, his mind running off with thoughts of biscuits on command and a seamstress constantly available to fix up anything he could want.  

*

Hours later, Louis was standing in his new dress and clothes, pressed tight to Harry side as he took in the courtyard.

There weren’t very many people -- Harry had only invited a rather tight knit group – but Louis still found himself clamming up after greeting each person, instead letting Harry take the lead in conversation.

Louis had never had to speak to anyone wealthy at length before he had met Harry. The nobles rarely went to the same markets and shops he did; merely meeting Harry at the grocer’s had been an extraordinary stroke of luck. And now, he was realizing just how out of place he was in this world.

The feeling especially struck him when he looked at the other omegas in attendance.

The omegas in the garden were beautiful, decked out in big, puffy dresses with ribbons, lace, and bows. Even though Louis’s dress was just as decorated, he felt underdressed compared to them. They were also all much bigger than him, which made him blush all the way down his neck. His body had softened significantly in the past few months; his belly curved out, his thighs were wide, his arms were soft and his cheeks were round when he smiled. But the omegas in front of him made him feel as small as he had been when he first met Harry.

They were so beautiful, was the thing, with their proud, round bellies, lovely curved arms, plump fingers that gripped their dainty little fans as they cooled off their shiny, rogue-covered round faces. Each of them were perfectly polite when Harry introduced them, but Louis couldn’t help but glance down at the ground every time they walked away, hoping desperately they had liked him.

By the end of the hour, Louis’s head was starting to ache a bit, and he was relieved when Harry took him up to seemingly the last people he had yet to meet. It was a tall alpha who looked at least a decade older than Harry, and next to him was a short omega, her round body dressed in gauzy, peach fabric. They seemed in the midst of a conversation, their voices high with an hours’ worth of free champagne, but they both quieted and turned when Harry approached

“Oh, Harry,” the alpha said with no introduction, his smile boozy and loose as he lifted his glass, “This must be the little peasant you plucked up at the grocer’s, how sweet.”

Louis felt his face grow hot, and he instinctively moved closer to Harry, who quickly put an arm around his waist.

“Darling,” Harry said, his voice soft as he addressed Louis, “This is Andrew Pickering, he’s an old Cambridge acquaintance of his my sister’s.”

Louis’s alpha turned back to the man, then, his voice growing decidedly less fond.  

“Yes, Andrew. This is my fiancé, Louis,” Harry said tightly, “Your memory is impeccable, as usual. I did meet him in the outside district. Although life is a funny thing, isn’t, as in two days’ time he will outrank you.”

The man blinked, and then smiled again, his lips growing tight.  

“Yes, life is funny.”” he said. “I just have to wonder how on earth you made such an…unorthodox decision, I understand your family had two dozen possible suitors lined up for you…”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Or anyone, for that matter.” Harry said, his voice stone cold despite his friendly smile. It made the alpha in front of him blink blankly.  

“Well,” the alpha’s wife laughed, her voice breaking through the awkward silence, “I think he’s rather lovely.”

Before Louis could react, she reached out and grabbed hold of his cheek, pinching it. He could smell her perfume, thick and floral, on her wrist.

“And so tiny, oh my,” she giggled.

Louis flushed deeply as Lord Pickering – Andrew? Louis did not even know how he was allowed to address the other man in his own head – grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“Sarah, sweet,” he clucked, just as Harry took hold of Louis’s hand.

“Well, we have some other rounds to make, I’ll speak with you two later,” Harry said, and then quickly pulled Louis away and closer to a thick ring of hedges around the edge of the courtyard.

As soon as they were alone, Harry took Louis by the shoulders, his grip strong but careful.

“Louis,” Harry said softly, “Are you alright, sweet one?”

Louis felt his throat grow hot at Harry’s earnest question, and he turned his stinging eyes downwards.

“I’m sorry,” Louis got out, “I’ve embarrassed you.”

“Oh, darling,” Harry said, “Not at all.”

“I have,” Louis choked, “I should have known I wouldn’t fit in. I’m poor, and I’m ordinary, and I’m – I’m ugly.”

Louis sobbed out the last word, and quickly, Harry took Louis’s face in both hands, pressing on his cheeks and making him look up.

“Oh, my love,” he said quietly, “No, no. None of that.”

Harry pushed forward while Louis just looked forward, his lip trembling as he looked into his alpha’s gentle eyes.

“I do not care where your family came from. Beauty and intelligence and grace can come from anywhere, and you prove that,” Harry said. He reached forward, wiping his long fingers under Louis’s leaking eyes. “Because you are not ordinary, and you are the farthest thing from ugly. You are so stunning you made me rush across the market just to speak to you for a little while.”

Louis shook his head and looked down at his own hands. In the past few days, he had thought his hands looked lovely; smoothed over from his years of work and rounding up a bit. But now he saw no loveliness in them at all.

“I’m too small,” he whispered. “I don’t look right, I’m not beautiful and plump like the other omegas.”

“You are beautiful,” Harry insisted, “And I have been telling you for months, I will make you as plump as you want to be. Don’t even worry yourself with that.”  

Harry tilted his head, the loose curls over his forehead moving as he did so.

“Why don’t you go inside and ask for some tea and for a fire to be made. I’ll send everyone home, and we can sit inside for a bit. Would you like that?”

Louis nodded immediately, and Harry smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Remember I will always take care of you,” he said gently, “Now go on.”

Louis nodded, giving Harry one last squeeze on the hand before he picked up his skirts and climbed the stairs the courtyard, the chatter of the party falling away as he walked back inside the house. As soon as he was through the doors, the sounds ceased to nearly nothing, and a maid came to ask him if he was cold and wanted a throw, and another servant asked him if he was thirsty. He smiled to himself, allowing his back to straighten.

It did not matter what anyone outside thought. This was his world now, and he would go his best to grow use to being at its command.

[noona-clock]

Expectations

Genre: College/Roommates!AU -- Pure Fluff

Pairing: Hanbin x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Cursing

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 | Words: 1,806

The downside to going to a university halfway across the country from where you grew up?

You knew nobody. You had no friends. 

And your roommate was going to be somebody you’d never met before.

You were a fairly easygoing and tolerant person, so most likely you would get along with whoever was assigned to your room...

...but what if you didn’t?

No, no, no. There was no room for that kind of thought! Whoever ended up being your roommate would be completely and totally fine because you were you! You were a team player, and you liked meeting new people and making new friends. The fact that you would be sharing a dorm suite with this mystery person for a whole year was not daunting in the least.

If you could handle being Class President, Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper, Vice President of the Debate team and get good enough grades to earn a scholarship for this university all during your last year of high school... you could pretty much handle anything!

If you could handle driving for two straight days on your own with just about everything you owned packed in your car because, even though this school was hours and hours from your hometown, it had the best psychology program in the country... you could pretty much handle anything!

“Yes, I can handle anything,” you murmured to yourself as you hung up clothes in your new (tiny) closet. 

You had just arrived last night, but you’d been far too exhausted from driving all day to unpack anything until this morning. After a somewhat restful sleep in your new bed, a hot shower, and a cup of coffee, you were fully energized and raring to get your room set up.

You were also raring for your new roommate to get here. You were tired of wondering what she would be like and if the two of you would get along or not; you wanted her to get here so you could finally meet her!

“I can handle anything,” you repeated with a nod as you grabbed a hanger and slid one of your plaid flannel shirts onto it. “And I will be the best roommate this dorm has ever seen. My roommate won’t know what hit her! -- I mean, not literally. A good roommate would never hit, obviously, I just mean -- she’s probably not expecting someone who’s as determined as I am to be a good --”

Just as you hooked the hanger onto the rack in your closet, you heard the rattle of a doorknob, the sound interrupting your unexpected pep talk...

You froze, your heart suddenly skipping a beat before it began to beat double-time. Was she here? Finally?

You stepped out of your bedroom and into the shared living area, wringing your hands together as the front door slowly swung forward.

This was it, apparently. This was the moment you’d been waiting for.

A sweatshirt-clad form appeared in the doorway, the hood pulled up over her head as she scrambled in with quite a few duffel bags and suitcases.

You rushed over to help her, a smile tugging at your lips as you said, “Here, let me --”

At the sound of your voice, your roommate lifted her head to look at you...

And you quickly realized your roommate was not a her.

He was a him.

...Oh.

A strangled noise of confusion bubbled up in your throat, and you took a staggering step back.

Your roommate... was... a guy?

(Side note: in the very depths of your mind, you corrected yourself. Your roommate was a very cute guy. But that particular thought didn’t need to be addressed right now. ...Or ever.)

“Oh, shit,” he murmured, his brow furrowing as he looked at you. “Sorry, I must have the wrong --”

He set his bags down and backtracked, stepping outside the door to peer at the number tacked on the front of it. Oh, thank god. He must have the wrong room!

But then you saw rather than heard him say the number 210, and he dipped his head in the slightest of nods.

When he stepped back into the entryway, he lifted one hand and gestured toward you. “You’re room two-ten?” he asked in a low voice.

“Y--yes,” you stuttered. “Two-ten.”

His brows raised and he brought his hand up to slide the hood off his head. “Okay, then. I guess we’re roommates.”

The way he said that was so... casual!

Like he wasn’t bothered whatsoever!

“Are -- I mean, are we allowed to be roommates?” you asked, watching with the most wrinkled forehead as he began to pick up his bags once more.

He shot you a bemused look as he hefted his duffel over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

...Huh?

What did he mean ‘what do you mean’?

“I -- I just don’t know if this dorm -- if they allow... co-ed roommates,” you clarified, though it should have been extremely obvious what you’d meant.

You waited for your new roommate to stop, realizing that you were more than a little surprised and uncomfortable at the moment. But he simply began shuffling toward the other bedroom, rolling his suitcase behind him.

“I think the Housing building is over on North campus,” he finally called out just as he approached his bedroom doorway. 

...Oh.

Okay, then.

“Okay, I --” you began, watching as he disappeared into the room. “I’ll go see if I can sort this out.”

Just as you were about to turn and grab your purse from the kitchen counter, your new roommate appeared back in his doorway.

“I’m Hanbin, by the way,” he told you, the faintest of smiles pulling at his lips. “Kim Hanbin. In case you need to know my name.”

Hanbin. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting that to be his name. Which was totally ridiculous because what had you been expecting? I guess you just hadn’t thought about it since you’d been set on the idea he would be a female. 

His name just didn’t quite seem to fit him.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, though you almost immediately felt silly. He’d told you his name because you were going to Housing to see if there was any way to switch roommates. He didn’t particularly need to know yours right now.

“Y/N,” he repeated, the faint smile growing just a bit wider. “Nice to meet you.”

You simply forced your lips into a close-mouthed grin and nodded before sliding your purse strap over your shoulder and heading for the door. It was nice to meet him, of course, but you didn’t want to get too friendly if the two of you weren’t going to end up actually living together.

As soon as you exited the dorm and closed the front door behind you, you let out a soft breath, one you hadn’t even known you’d been holding in.

The past ten minutes or so had just been a lot to take in, that’s all.

You’d been expecting a roommate -- a female roommate with whom you could grow close, become best friends. You two would eat dinner and watch romantic comedies together, share secrets and gossip, navigate the crazy life of a university student together. 

But you got...

Hanbin.

Don’t get me wrong! You weren’t writing him off just yet, not at all! You just... would Hanbin really want to eat dinner and watch romantic comedies with you? Would he really want to share secrets and gossip with you? Would the two of you really become the best of friends?

You could certainly befriend a guy, so it’s not like you even had a legitimate reason to be disappointed!

You just... Well, you had set expectations for your first year of university, and already those expectations had been thrown out the window.

You weren’t exactly a fan of change, so starting on this whole new life path after high school was a huge deal, to begin with. Adding yet another change -- a male roommate -- might just be too much to handle.

You thought you could handle anything... but I guess you were wrong.

Well, that had been a waste of your time.

You’d spent the last hour in the Housing Office waiting room only to be told within two minutes of meeting the supervisor that there was nothing they could do.

“All rooms and room assignments are full as of right now,” she had explained with a perfunctory shrug. “If you want, I can put you on a waiting list to have you transferred when something opens up.”

“How long is the waiting list?” you asked, just to see.

The supervisor had flipped a page on her clipboard and replied with, “About five hundred.”

...Okay, so that was a ‘no.’

“It’s fine,” you assured her. “It’s really not a big deal. But thank you.”

So, now here you were. Trudging back across campus to your new dorm. To your new -- and permanent -- roommate.

I mean... Really, though, it wasn’t a big deal.

He was just a guy! And you were in a dorm suite, it’s not like your beds were in the same room. And even then! You were (practically) an adult! You were mature enough to sleep in the same room as a guy. You were mature enough to be roommates with a guy!

You took back what you thought before. You weren’t wrong! You most certainly, definitely, absolutely could handle this.

By the time you arrived back at your dorm, you had resolved to make the best of your situation, and you were currently working on a plan to be the best roommate Hanbin could ever want.

Just after you closed the front door behind you, Hanbin’s head popped out of his bedroom. “Any luck?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“That depends on what you mean by ‘luck,’“ you replied, your tone incredibly optimistic. “There are no more dorms left, so that means we’ll be roommates for the year.”

“And... you’re okay with that?”

“For sure,” you answered with a nod. “I was just a little startled, but it’s all good. I’m actually super looking forward to --”

“Okay, good,” Hanbin interrupted before sticking his head back into his room and closing the door.

...Ah.

All right then.

So, I guess you would be pushing back step 1 of your plan to a later date. Hanbin didn’t feel up to getting to know each other through Ice Breaker games at the moment, apparently.

That was fine. It was just the first day! Classes hadn’t even started yet! You had plenty of time to get to know each other. Plus, you were very confident in your ability to solve problems. 

You were going to solve this roommate/friendship problem.

Part 2

[theunboundmeg]

Nefarious (Chapter Two)

Summary: Tina’s Halloween Bash is the most talked about party of the season! Getting “Sheet Faced” seems to be the “in” thing to do, and Y/N plans on doing just that. With her mom out of town for the weekend and Nancy and Steve finally convincing her to go with them (it really didn’t take much, since she’d already decided), it’s time to party. Only problem? Billy is probably going to be there...which means it’s likely to get heated.And what’s with all of the farmers complaining about their crops dying?

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Y/N (Reader)

Word Count: 4,192 Words

Rating: 18+ (For the Future)

Warnings: Cussing, insinuation, angsty angst! Also, drinking, smoking, and some weird situations!

Other: Please note, this story takes place at the beginning of Season Two and actually follows to the storyline. I thought it would be interesting to write from a different perspective of the main story and see what happened to one of our favorite characters while the others were off fighting the demodogs! Enjoy this and if you guys like this chapter, I’ll probably write more! <3 Also note that there is no planned amount of chapters for this yet. I will write this story until it just naturally folds up. So…look forward to MANY more to come!

________________________________________________________________

Chapter Two: Let’s Get Sheet Faced (Y/N Perspective)

  My fingers drifted over the various dresses, all hung up in a row. The thrift shop in town wasn’t exactly the most notable place to buy a costume from, but it was more likely to have something that the other girls wouldn’t be wearing. I could hear Steve and Nancy giggling in the next row of clothing. Jonathan moved over to stand next to me, pulling out a gaudy, silver dress that hung to his knees. 

“What do you think?” he asked, grinning at me knowingly.

“I think you’d be the prettiest one there.” I replied, nodding at him. 

  He snorted and put the dress back on the rack. I pulled out a small, form fitting red dress and frowned. I put it back and promptly pulled out another, though this one was black and...quite shorter. But it was in my size. I paused, opening my mouth to ask Jonathan what he thought, only to catch him gazing over towards Steve and Nancy. My fingers clutched tightly to the dress and I moved over to close the gap between us, nudging him gently.

“Stop with the puppy dog eyes...” I warned him.

 He shook his head and looked back at me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replied, suddenly going on the defensive.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

  I cleared my throat and turned on my heel. Heading off towards the dressing room, I couldn’t help but be partially relieved to leave Jonathan to his thoughts. The guy was hopelessly in love with Nancy, but Nancy was with Steve. Such was the circle of life. Jonathan wasn’t really hard on the eyes. I felt pity for him, in a way. If I hadn’t sworn off dating (for the most part), I probably would have taken a crack at him, myself.

“Y/N!” 

  Nancy’s voice rang out, just as I was about to close the door to the dressing room. 

“What do you think?” she asked, holding up the white shirt and black skirt.

   I shrugged and closed the door.

“Honestly Nance, you’d look good in a paper bag. That is perfect though. Try it on!” I called, starting to pull off my shirt and jeans. 

  The minute the dress was on, I sucked in a breath. Sleeveless and above the knees. That was extremely bold, even for me. But some tights and maybe even a small sweater as a fail safe would be perfect. Depending on how cold it would be tonight, anyway. I opened the door slowly. Nancy was spinning in front of Steve, laughing and Jonathan was pulling out a jean jacket similar to the one he already had on.

“What do you guys think? Too much?” I asked, cringing an d preparing.

  Nancy sucked in a breath and Steve whistled.

“If I wasn’t a taken man, I’d have to hit on you, Y/N.” Steve said, grinning broadly.

“Be careful in that tonight. You might put a spell on someone.” he continued.

  I pulled the pair of cat ears out of a bag from the other store we’d been to earlier today and put them on. Turning, I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. This wasn’t something I would normally catch myself in, but for some reason it seemed like it was the right outfit for tonight. Why not, right? Mom wasn’t home and as long as I wore tights, I wouldn’t be too bad off. A short dress with tights was pretty safe, after all. A moment longer of staring at myself and I was back in the dressing room, rolling my eyes as I listened to Steve saying something and Nancy whispering. Poor Jonathan. He probably never even stood a chance. I considered asking him if I could ride with him to the party, but by the time I’d exited the dressing room, he was waving goodbye and fleeing faster than I’d ever seen anyone do so before. So much for that plan.

___

Ten o’clock hit and by the time we were in the car and heading to Tina’s, I was already regretting this decision. Nancy and Steve had had some sort of argument beforehand, so the air in the car was so still, you could hear a mouse sneeze. I cleared my throat and looked in my compact one more time, just to make sure all of the makeup was just right. I had no idea why it was so important for me to look as good as I did, but I was trying. That’s what being in the King and Queen’s clique did to you. You worked your ass off to look like one of the best. As long as you looked like them, you were one of them. Right? My cat ears protruded from my done hair and I couldn’t help but grin wickedly. Okay, I looked pretty damn good. The dress fit like a glove and the tights were the perfect shade of black. And those boots I’d found? My god. Mom had been holding out on me. Then again, if she’d seen me like this, I would have been grounded so fast my head would have spun.

“Nancy...it’s going to be fine. You look fine...” came Steve’s voice from the front of the car.

“Let’s just get to this damn party and for ONE night...act like stupid teenagers, okay?” replied his girlfriend, shaking her head and looking as if she had no urge to be there at all. 

  Something had changed, and I couldn’t quite figure it out. But I didn’t really have time to dwell on that. That second, Steve was pulling up at Tina’s. And oh, what a sight the place already was. A few teens littered the lawn here and there. Most of them were in costume, and a few were well beyond drunk already. The lower crowd, I guessed. After all, no one from Carol or our crew arrived at a party earlier than ten. It was high school etiquette, or something stupid like that.I opened my door and waited not a second longer to get away from the quarreling couple. I just wanted to get some drinks in me and get some dancing done. Outside, a few guys were ushering people over to try their luck at a keg stand, and a couple of girls were standing close enough to watch, no doubt calling shots on who they would want to get their claws into by the end of the night. What a time to be alive! I opened the front door and scanned the crowd. People dancing, people laughing, and even more people gathered around a punch bowl, dipping their cups in and drinking heartily. Fuck.

“Y/N!” 

  I looked over and saw Carol skipping over, her tiny work out leotard revealing way more than I thought was even possible. Though, Carol didn’t seem to mind. She giggled and wiggled a little in front of a few guys before wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“Come! You HAVE to try the punch!” she cried, dragging me along.

  Ever since she and Tommy had broken up, she’d definitely become a more open young lady. She flirted with nearly everything that walked and called itself a male. Though, with the way she was treating me, I’d no doubt gotten away with my comment from earlier to Billy. Or maybe he just hadn’t gotten to her yet to spill the beans on what I actually thought about the girl.

“Here.” she said, smacking her gum and shoving a cup into my hands, “I love your costume by the way. Super cute.”

  She winked and made her way off, flouncing the whole way as she walked. Fuck, if I leaned that way, I’d hit on Carol myself. I watched her a moment longer before taking a sip of the punch. It took ALL of my strength to not throw that drink away immediately. The punch was good, but the vodka was so prominent, I felt like I was inhaling gasoline in the process. It was just going to be one of those drinks where I drank carefully and tried not to enjoy it after a while. The more you drank, the more the vodka taste disappeared...and that was when it got dangerous. I took another sip and wasted no time hitting the dance floor. By then, Steve and Nancy had found their way inside and were standing near me, talking briefly. The one thing I had on both of them was that I was social enough to acclimate to a party almost immediately. Probably one of the few talents I had that would eventually be useful later on in life. Extremely social, as mom tended to call me.

“BILLY! BILLY! BILLY!”

  I stopped dancing and moved to stand over near Nancy and Steve, looking towards the back door with them. The shouts only grew louder as a pack of guys moved in, one of them no doubt Billy, wearing a leather jacket and jeans...no shirt. I pursed my lips and knocked back the rest of the punch, wincing slightly at the burn as it moved down my throat. Of course he’d show up looking like that. A guy like that? He knew he looked good...and he owned it. Cheers rose from the crowd as they moved inside. Bodies became denser and the dancing picked up. Everyone was slowly making their way to buzzville. 

“Got ourselves a new King of the Keg, Harrington!” Tommy called, clapping Billy on the shoulder as they stood directly in front of us. 

  I looked down at my cup and swirled the nonexistent, acting as though the males in front of me didn’t exist. Nancy scoffed, turned heel, and made her way off towards the kitchen. It was then I looked up and saw Steve looking after her, longing...or worried. I couldn’t tell which. Before Billy could step in front of him, I swallowed my pride and ran interference.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Some girl to be rubbing up on?” I asked, hand on my hip.

  If Big Dick Energy had existed in this timeframe, it would have been used to perfectly describe the scene. Tommy seemed taken aback and began to laugh. Billy’s eyebrows shot way up as he realized just who he was looking at. It wasn’t long and those eyes were roaming over me again, drinking in every bit of my appearance. And for some reason, whether it was the drink making its’ way through my system or something else rising up within me, I didn’t seem to mind. I lifted my chin slightly, that defiant look coming across nice and clear. Steve took that moment to touch my shoulder and make his way off after Nancy. No doubt he’d be trying to puppy up to her or keep an eye on her drink intake. Nancy wasn’t my problem. These guys were...and I didn’t seem to mind standing up to them alone.

“Tommy, Carol’s over there. Maybe you should go pull her off of that guy and try to reconcile.” I said, nodding over towards the woman, now dancing on some guy from Junior Year. 

  Tommy’s face began to fume and he stormed off. Break up the couple, but you could never quite break up the feelings. That was the good thing about alcohol. I took one last look at Billy and turned heel. I wasn’t about to stick around and wait for him to make some comment about my outfit. The fact that I’d given in to the cat idea was already a strike against me, and he knew it. Nope. I wasn’t giving it to him.

“Cat Ears!” he called, apparently sticking with the nickname he’d called me earlier.

  I shook my head and continued over to the punch bowl, dipping my cup in and taking a good chug from it. Fuck it, right? A second passed and there he was, leaning up against the counter and looking at me again.

“I told you you’d look good in them.” he said, nodding to the ears, then staring at me.

  I tried to keep my gaze trained on his and NOT let it roam downwards towards his bare chest. The fact that it was peaking out from beneath the jacket was actually a sight. And the more I drank? The more I found myself liking it. And I didn’t like THAT. I swallowed a bit more of the drink and pointed at him.

“Don’t start. You could have the pick of the room. Anyone in here, you could torment. Instead, you’re actually going to choose me?” I asked, frowning.

  He laughed and shook his head. 

“Are you serious right now? You still sore about yesterday? All I did was ask if you wanted to explore a little.”

“You were cocky!”

“And you liked it.”

  I wrinkled my nose. He knew how to argue...and that got under my skin in a way I couldn’t quite describe.

“I think you just like it when a girl gives you a challenge.” I retorted, turning and starting to walk off again, taking a long drink from my cup.

“Run kitten! Let’s see how far you get before you come back!”

  I flipped him the bird over my shoulder, not even bothering to look back as I walked. The fuzzy feeling from the vodka was starting to take hold of me already. That’s how strong the drinks had been. I didn’t walk far and I nearly found myself slamming into Jonathan...who was not in costume.

“What in the hell?” I asked, looking him over.

“You realize this is a costume party, right?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “I don’t come to parties, remember?”

“Well, you’re at this one.” I replied, shaking my drink a bit at him. “Want a taste?”

  He took the cup from me and took a sip...and promptly began to cough. I laughed happily and took the Solo cup back from him.

“My god! What is that shit?” he asked, wincing as he forced the punch down.

“Something, something...pure fuel.” 

  He coughed more and I reached for his arm. A second of begging and he was convinced, being dragged over to the punch bowl. I didn’t expect him to drink much, if any...but it was still worth a shot, right? When in Rome, after all. We stood there for a while, people watching and cracking jokes at a few of the costumes that caught our eyes. Every so often, I caught him looking over towards Nancy and Steve and I shook my head.

“Jonathan. Go dance with another girl...it’ll make you feel better.” I said.

  He let out a short laugh, but did nor said anything beyond that. He hated that I was right, but just couldn’t get past it. He probably never would. I shrugged my shoulders and patted him on the arm. I mentioned something about dancing, and was off in my slightly intoxicated state...off to find some poor soul to dance with my uncoordinated ass. I didn’t mind though. In this state? I could do anything. I could fly if I really wanted to. Holy shit, that vodka was strong.

___

  Another two hours passed and midnight had hit. The party was still raging, but it was at the point where one of two things was happening. People were either getting sick, or peaking at their “best” drunken state. I had most definitely...peaked. I was dancing with someone, who I didn’t even seem to know, and having a GREAT fucking time. I laughed and spun around, holding my cup in the air as I did so. Okay, so maybe I’d gone past the peaking point. But still, I couldn’t tell the difference. I distantly heard a familiar arguing duo and glanced up only briefly to see Nancy and Steve rushing out of the room and towards the bathroom. I half expected them to make up in there...and that was when I decided I needed air as well. Fuck it...it was stuffy.

“I need air!” I yelled over the music to the guy I was dancing with.

  He understood, nodding curtly and reaching for my arm. Squeezing past the rocking bodies, we eventually made it outside and rounded the corner. It was much more private here...and I could finally catch my breath.

“Jesus...it’s ACTUALLY been a great party!” I panted, laughing again and reaching up to fix my cat ears.

“No doubt.” the guy replied, moving closer towards me, and eventually pinning me up against the wall.

  He captured my lips in a rough kiss, bringing a grunt of surprise from me. It took a second for it all to register in my head. And the minute it did? I was reaching to try and push him off of me.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, grimacing, “I don’t-”

“Well, I thought you did...so...”

  He tried to kiss me again and I turned my head away, shoving this time.

“I said STOP!” 

  I hardly had time to react before a fist was flying towards the guy, landing square in his temple. He fell backwards, slamming into the ground and yelping loudly. My eyes widened as I turned to see Billy standing there, fist withdrawing and chest heaving.

“Hey dickhead! Next time you put your hands on her, I’m going to make sure to BREAK your hands. Fucking hear me?” he asked, clearly seeing red.

  The guy nodded his head fervently, scrambling to get up and run from the scene. I stood there, trying to calm my breathing...and take in the whole situation in my intoxicated state. I stared at Billy a bit longer, then began walking towards the front of the house.

“Cat Ears!” he yelled, the sound of jogging footsteps growing closer behind me.

“No.” I said, shaking my head.

“Y/N!” 

  I stopped dead and turned around. He moved closer and reached out for me.

“You’re drunk. You want a ride home or something?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Not from you.” I replied, stubborn as ever, “I can walk home.”

“I’m sober!” he exclaimed, the exasperation clear in his tone, “You need a ride home! You’re drunk and you can barely walk properly! What happens if someone jumps you? Kidnaps you?” 

“Billy! Shut up. No one gets kidnapped in Hawkins, okay?” 

  I snorted and rolled my eyes after saying it, then began off again towards the cars. I heard the jingle of keys and the footsteps as he fell in step next to me.

“Y/N. Let me take you home, okay? I’ll drop you off and you won���t hear from me for the rest of the night? Not even at school, if I can help it. Okay?”

  I paused and considered him, narrowing my gaze. It was then I realized...my only chance of a ride was gone anyway. Steve’s car was gone, as was Jonathan’s. What in the hell had happened between me leaving the party and walking up towards the front of the house? Holy shit. I sucked in a breath and considered my options. Fine. Fucking fine.

“Alright. But JUST this once.” 

  He grinned and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards his car. Everything seemed to blur as I walked. Maybe it was a good idea I was getting a ride, after all. And shit...he looked so good. No. Quit. Not this one. Not Billy. I glanced back towards the front of Tina’s house, only to catch Carol and Co standing outside, sharing a cigarette and laughing. Carol was the only one that seemed to be paying attention and the minute we locked eyes, I knew. Fuck. It was going to be everywhere. Everyone would know...Billy and I had left together. He closed the door for me on the passenger side and I sat back, waiting for him to get in as well.

“You okay?” he asked, getting in and firing up the engine to the Camaro. 

  I nodded again, glancing over towards him. I took in the sight, breath catching in my throat. There was something about Billy that no other guy seemed to have. It wasn’t the arrogance or devilishly handsome charm. No...there was something else there that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I hated that. Reading people was a skill of mine, and I just couldn’t seem to read this guy right off the bat. I hated it. He stared back at me, then grinned mischievously. 

“She’s my baby, you know?” he asked, patting the dashboard before revving the engine again and taking off.

  I held on to the side handle as he drove, taking directions from me the entire way. Billy didn’t drive with reckless abandon, but he did drive like he didn’t have a care in the world. That was...kind of attractive too. Fuck, I was drunk. And when we finally pulled up at my house, I could feel myself swirling even more into the uninhibited vortex,

“You’re not as much of an asshole as I thought, I guess.” I said as he helped me out of the car and up towards the front door of the house.

  He laughed and opened the door for me after I unlocked it.

  “I’m not always a dick to pretty girls.” he said, making his way through the dark house with me, “Which reminds me...you want me to leave you on the couch or in your room?”

  I shrugged.

“Doesn’t fucking matter.”

  He helped me up the stairs towards my room, snorting with laughter as we BOTH tripped on the last step up. I tugged him towards my bedroom and when we finally breached the threshold, he let go of me and stayed still.

“I want to make sure you sober up safely, okay?” he asked, pushing his hands into his jean pockets, “Mind if I use your couch for a few hours? I’ll be out before the sun comes up.”

“Don’t bother,” I replied, “Mom’s out of town. Sleep in if you want to.”

 I pulled off my cat ears and began unhooking my dress. It was then I realized he was actually still standing there, staring in disbelief. 

“You’re...”

“What? You’ve never seen a girl undress before?”

“You’re drunk...” he breathed.

“Yeah, you said that already.” I shot back, shrugging.

  Something about this state was making me bold...too bold. I wasn’t sure how I liked it.But...I did. I stared at him and then...made my way over.

“I don’t like assholes...” I whispered, leaning in towards him, “But you’re trying to make me like you...aren’t you?”

  It was as if it was some sort of conspiracy. Maybe he was working against me to try and prove me wrong. The game...this game. I had to win. I reached out, my hand planting firmly against his bare chest, fingernails digging into the skin slightly. Billy hissed in response, leaning back against the doorframe...not moving.

“Careful.” he breathed, staring down at me, “Be very careful.”

“No...you be careful.” I said, leaning up towards him.

  Why be a king, when you could be a god? And who said God had to be a man? I was going to win this powerstruggle between the two of us. If it was the last thing I did, I was going to do SOMETHING to win over him. And for some reason? In my mind? This was the way to do it. That, and curiosity. My lips planted against his and I was overwhelmed. The smell of sweat, beer, and cologne intermingled between us and I couldn’t help myself. I kissed him harder, causing him to lurch slightly in surprise. But, he didn’t pull away. It felt like an eternity passed and his hands were suddenly on my hips, pulling me around and pressing me against the wall. Slowly, carefully, fingers trailed up along my sides, exploring every inch of me they could. It wasn’t long and one hand was in my hair, fingers tangling into my done locks. His other hand planted itself back on my side, holding me steady. 

  I kissed him hungrily, as if I was needy for it. I did need it. My arms wrapped around him, my own hands burying into his hair and tugging eventually. He groaned and let me pull his head back a bit. The grin on his face said it all. He liked it. Maybe I had won after all? And then it all stopped. He pulled away and shook his head slowly. 

“You’re drunk. And I’m not doing this with you while you’re drunk and I’m sober. If I’m going to have you, it’s going to be a time I don’t want you to EVER forget.” he whispered, that stare nearly overwhelming me. Shit.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed away from him, heading over towards my bed. Fuck changing. Fuck even making sure he found the couch or saw his way out. I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep. I’d kissed Billy Hargrove...and now I was never going to live it down.

“See you in the morning, Cat Ears...” his voice drawled out towards me as I drifted off.

________________________________________________________________

<Chapter One   Chapter Three>

Tag List:

 @ john-benderr @ salemlysi @ boundtomyfate @ ccidk @ drrramaaaqweeen @ asheseiler

[elenajohansenauthor]

#tumblrspiritweek, Wordy Wednesday, Part I

Since this is all about our own work, now’s a good opportunity for some #shameless self promotion. I’ve already posted the first chapter of my first novel, What We Need to Survive, a few times, but not recently.

The overview: post-apocalyptic romance, grim world but hopeful message, first of a trilogy following the same couple, potential triggers = global collapse due to illness, rape mention, gun violence, other weapon violence, onscreen character deaths (not the mains! yes there is a happy ending!)

I KNOW THIS ISN’T NECESSARILY WHAT EVERYONE WANTS TO READ RIGHT NOW. I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I also couldn’t know in 2015 when I published this that I’d be trying to make a living as an author through an actual pandemic. I am writing other things that don’t have plagues in them (and I will post the first chapter of my current WIP later today) but I love these books and I’d be sad to give up on them just because the real world sucks right now.

So I get it, if this is the wrong time for you to read this. Check back later today for some rock-star action.

If you’re still here through all of that, this book is currently on sale for 99 cents and the trilogy omnibus edition for $4.99;or if you’re up for reading it in a timely fashion and leaving an honest review, I’m always willing to send out [free, digital] review copies, hit me up.

Below the cut: the first chapter in its entirety.

Chapter 1 - Cigarette Lighters

August 23rd, 4:23 pm – Somewhere along US-36, Central Ohio

Paul kicked a rock out of his path, watching it bounce and skitter down the highway.

He saw no point in wasting breath on cursing the weather. One squall of rain caught him earlier in the day, forcing him into the cramped shelter of one of the abandoned cars dotting the road. But the boom of thunder in the distance worried him. He’d spent plenty of nights out in the open. Sleeping in the rain was miserable enough, but he imagined sleeping through a storm would be next to impossible.

He looked up, but thick forest on both sides of the highway hid all but the narrowest strip of sky. Blank, unbroken gray hovered above him. There was no way to judge how close the storm was, except for the unreliable system of counting Mississippis.

The closest building he remembered passing was at least half an hour behind him, maybe an hour. The closest town he’d left behind yesterday afternoon. Turning back might get him to shelter before the storm struck, if he hurried.

Or it might not. The road ahead curved away from him, and the trees could hide anything.

Paul kept moving forward, faster under the threat of rain.

Ten minutes later, he spied a gas station and picked up his pace even more.

As he got closer, the station didn’t seem promising. Most of the windows gaped empty, broken down to their frames, and the front door hung askew on a broken hinge. The first fallen leaves of the season littered the parking lot. Shards of glass from the broken windows and random bits of trash lay scattered among them.

The rain started as Paul reached the edge of the parking lot. He sprinted for the cover of the roof protecting the pumps.

Hard-won caution kept him from dashing the rest of the way inside. Instead he approached the building with slow, deliberate steps, holding up his empty hands. “Hello in there!” he called. “Anybody home?”

There was no answer, but Paul remained wary. When he was a few yards from the open door, he stopped and called again. “Is anyone there? I ain’t lookin’ for trouble, just a place to get out of the rain.”

A shuffling sound came from his right, and a movement that flickered in the corner of his eye. He turned toward it and saw a gun pointed in his direction. The gunman himself hid in the shadow of the empty window frame.

“Stay where you are!” the man shouted. His voice was deep and authoritative, the kind of voice that focused the attention of anyone who heard it. Paul didn’t doubt it belonged to a man willing to shoot him, if necessary.

“No trouble,” Paul repeated. “I was hopin’ this place was empty, ‘cause I’d rather be inside than out with a storm overhead. But if I ain’t welcome, I’ll move on.”

“Stay right there, and give me a minute!”

Paul did as the man ordered, watching the gun in the window, which didn’t move. He guessed the man was talking to someone inside, but he couldn’t hear anything. While he waited, the rain grew heavier, pinging on the corrugated metal of the roofing like the highest notes played on a huge steel drum.

“You got any weapons?” the deep-voiced man called out.

“Just the knife on my belt,” Paul answered. “No guns.”

“You can wait out the storm with us in here, then be on your way. Sound reasonable?”

Paul lowered his hands. “Yeah, that’s good.” The gun disappeared from the window, and the knot of tension in Paul’s chest loosened. He hadn’t believed he was going to get shot, but he was relieved to be right.

Unless they were going to rob him the minute he walked in the door. But it was too late to run now. If they meant to take his supplies, then the man with the gun could shoot him in the back when he fled.

Best to play along.

A man with dark brown skin and chin-length dreadlocks appeared in the doorway. He was shorter than Paul, but that didn’t mean he could be dismissed as a threat, since he was much more heavily muscled. His straight-backed posture and firm gaze shouted military to Paul. Or maybe cop. And he sported a holster on his belt. The man with the gun.

Unless there’s more than one of ‘em.

When Paul didn’t move, he flashed a grin, wide and startlingly white. “Come on in,” he said, beckoning with one hand. He stood aside to let Paul through.

The inside of the station wasn’t in any better shape than the outside. The metal shelving units were empty, all the chocolate bars and potato chips gone. Glass-fronted refrigerators lined the back wall, but those were empty, too. At the counter, the cash register lay on its side, the drawer popped loose. Paul guessed that had happened in the first few days, when looters thought money still meant something. It hadn’t taken long before that wasn’t true anymore. Dark patches stained the white linoleum floor. Paul hoped they weren’t blood. Though they probably were.

“I’m John,” the man said. His voice sounded almost friendly, and Paul lifted his hand in automatic reaction to meet John’s for a shake. He dropped it when he saw there was no hand offered.

“Paul.” He settled for giving John a nod instead.

John turned and headed for an open space beyond the counter. Paul meant to follow, but he stopped short at the sight of a girl crouched under the window. She was small, her thin limbs folded in on themselves to take up as little space as possible. Her black hair was oddly uneven in length, not quite reaching her shoulders. Paul guessed it was growing out from whatever shorter style she’d had, before. Her wide eyes watched him with silent tension, like a fawn ready to bolt to safety.

Paul hadn’t met many kids on the road, but most of them looked a lot like her. Frail and frightened, not ready to face what the world had become since the plague had ruined everything.

Before Paul could decide what to say to her—or even if he should say anything at all—she shot to her feet and followed John across the room. Her ill-fitting clothes didn’t completely hide the curves of her body, and the swing of her hips was shocking and compelling at the same time. She wasn’t a young girl at all. Her head wouldn’t even reach Paul’s shoulder, but she was a grown woman, right down to the angry toss of her hair.

But still frightened.

Paul let her have her distance from him. With any luck, the storm would pass before nightfall, leaving him time to move on and make camp somewhere else for the night. He’d shared makeshift shelter with strangers before, talked, and traded, but he never slept well. And it was no great leap to guess the woman didn’t want him there.

Though she had let him in, at least. That was why she’d been at the window, Paul guessed—John had checked with her before giving Paul permission.

Lightning flashed outside. Paul counted four-Mississippi before the thunder rolled over the building. After the next strike, he counted three.

If the light were better, he could pass the time scribbling in his notebook. A half-formed song had haunted his thoughts for days, and he’d welcome a chance to jot down the lyrics. But it would be a waste of ink and paper trying to write by lightning flashes.

If the company were better, he could talk and see about some trading. He was running lower than he liked on food, though he had enough to see him through the next day or two. The towns on this stretch of the highway all seemed to be one or two days apart, so he expected to hit another one tomorrow. He could spend a day searching houses for supplies.

Glancing around the interior of the station, he wondered if there was a rack of local road maps. So far, he’d been navigating by the ones posted on the walls at rest stations. But it was too dark to see much of anything, except a weak glow from the far corner. Someone had lit a candle. He heard low voices talking. John’s, he recognized. Another one, lighter and higher-pitched, he assumed was the woman’s. But there was a third, too, higher still and squeaky.

Another flash of lightning drew Paul’s attention back to the window. No need to introduce himself to the others if they were only company while the storm lasted. With nothing else to do, he cleared a space on the counter, sat on it, and watched the storm.

There was a light patter of footsteps. Paul turned just as someone reached out to touch his arm. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Paul replied. The boy looked about nine or ten. His skin was almost the same deep brown shade as John’s. The glow of the candlelight behind him traced the edges of his short corkscrew curls, giving them a faint golden sheen.

“Do you want to trade with us before we eat dinner?” he asked, half-polite and half-shy. “Maybe we have something different, if you’re tired of what you got.”

“Sure.” Paul slid off the counter top and followed the boy over to the others.

John sat cross-legged with his back to one wall. “Aaron, I told you not to bother him.”

Aaron shrugged as he settled beside John. “I just wanted to see if he had any different food we could trade for. I’m tired of peanut butter crackers.”

In the corner, the woman sat with her knees drawn up before her. She flicked a glance at Paul but said nothing as he pulled off his pack and sat down several feet away.

“You might be in luck, then, Aaron,” Paul said. “I’ve got some granola bars. The s'mores kind, I think.”

Aaron gave him a big smile that was nearly identical to John’s. Paul didn’t want to leap to any conclusions based on the fact that they were both black, but they looked enough alike to be father and son. So far, they were acting like it.

Paul stole another glance at the woman as she stared into the candle flame, ignoring everything else. Her skin was a lighter golden brown, under the smudges of dirt. And despite the realization that she wasn’t a child, she didn’t look anywhere near old enough to be Aaron’s mother. So who was she, and how did she end up with them?

The sound of a zipper snapped his thoughts back into focus—Aaron had a battered red backpack on the floor in front of him. He reached in and pulled out two packets of crackers.

Paul rifled through his own supplies and turned up two granola bars in exchange. He was about to ask what else they might want, open-ended, to see if he could draw the woman out at all. Before he could, he heard wet, squelching footsteps from the front of the building. He leaped to his feet, whirling to face the newcomers. Three of them, two women and a man, all middle-aged, all splattered with rain.

“Easy, Paul.” John’s voice was firm. “They’re with us.”

“If we’d known the rain would start so soon,” the man said, “we could’ve just set these outside and let the storm fill them up.” He had a large metal water bottle in each hand. One he passed to John, the other he set on the floor beside him as he sat down. “So you made a new friend while we were gone?”

A soft snort came from the corner, but John answered them without acknowledging it. “Just sharing the roof until the storm passes.”

The man pulled off his baseball cap, ran a tanned hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and smiled. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to get rained on.” He stuck out his other hand, which Paul shook briefly. “Mark.”

“Paul.”

“And this is my wife, Sarah,” he went on as one of the women sat down on his other side. The rain plastered her short blond hair to her forehead, but she smiled too and passed the extra bottle she carried to Aaron.

“Nice to meet you, Paul,” she said.

The final newcomer was still standing, looking down at Paul with a curious intensity. “Hello there.” Handsome, Paul mentally tacked on, because that was the exact tone she used. Since she was staring, he did too.

She was tall, or maybe she only seemed tall because she was lean and angular. Her hair was a riot of messy red curls in dire need of a wash, but she was pretty, in a faded, tired sort of way. Before the plague hit, she must have been beautiful. Before her eyes grew ringed with dark circles and her cheeks hollowed out from lack of food. “I’m Alison.”

Paul nodded. Alison tilted her head to the side for a moment, clearly waiting for more. When she didn’t get it, she strode past him. Behind him, which made his shoulder blades itch before he realized she was going to the small woman’s side.

Who still hadn’t given her name. Someone would, though. Paul could be patient.

Alison leaned against the wall and tapped it twice with the extra bottle in her hand. The sound reminded Paul of a food dish being set on the floor for a pet. Without looking, the woman reached her hand up, palm flat, and Alison set the bottle on it. Neither of them said a word.

When Alison sat down between her and Paul, closer to him than he would have liked, he had to resist the urge to pull away. No sense in being rude if he was only here until the storm let up.

“So, Paul,” Mark said with forced cheerfulness, “which way you headed?”

“East.”

Mark’s lips twisted behind his dark scruff of a beard, which hadn’t gone as white as his hair yet. “Damn, us too. I was hoping you were coming from there, so we could get an idea what the road ahead was like.”

Shaking his head, Paul said, “Sorry I can’t be more help.”

“Maybe you can,” Sarah said. “Do you have anything to trade?”

With an easy smile, Paul asked, “What d'you need?”

Sarah pursed her lips as she thought, and the cuteness of the expression took years off her face. “Extra socks?” she asked, hopeful enough that Paul knew she needed them, but resigned enough that she didn’t expect to get them.

Paul shook his head and turned to Mark. “Smokes.” Which earned him a light slap on the shoulder from his wife. “What, it’s been weeks now!” But Paul’s answer was another shake of his head.

John had Aaron seated in his lap and was finger-combing the boy’s hair. “I’m not holding my breath that you’ve got any natural-hair care products. I’m more likely to get struck by lightning. Inside.”

The dry, deadpan tone startled a laugh out of Paul. “I ain’t even got anything for myself right now,” he said, scratching at his dark blond hair. “I’m way overdue for a wash, and dunkin’ my head in a river ain’t the same. I’d shave it all off if electric razors were still a thing.”

Mark gestured at him. “You’ve got a knife.”

“I’d cut myself to ribbons. I think I’ll keep bein’ shaggy for now.”

Aaron, sensing his turn, piped up. “Any books? I’ve read the one I have about a dozen times by now.”

“Not much of a reader,” Paul answered. “What book you got?”

“Treasure Island,” Aaron said. “I like adventure stories.”

Alison snorted. “You’re living in one.”

John gave her a narrow-eyed look over Aaron’s head, but he didn’t say anything.

“Pain killers.”

The sharp and sudden request focused Paul’s attention on its source, the unnamed woman. Gone was the frightened doe of a girl—now her eyes were hard and flat. “Half a bottle of aspirin,” he offered. “What’ll you give me for it?”

“All I’ve got to spare is food. Cheese crackers, chocolate bars, take your pick. Or a can of Red Bull, if you’re afraid to sleep in here with us tonight and want to stay awake instead.”

“Nina …” John said with more than a hint of warning in his voice.

So she’s got a name after all.

“It’s thunderstorm season,” she said. “We’ve been lucky so far they haven’t been worse, but this one’s not going to pass over in an hour like you hope. We’re going to be here overnight.”

Alison hunched forward, elbows on her knees. “How do you know?”

“The weather here isn’t much different from where I grew up,” she answered with a slight shrug. “I lived with this every summer as a kid.” She turned back to Paul. “Anyway, does that work for you?”

Medicine of any kind was valuable, even the common stuff like aspirin. Food was never a bad trade, but he doubted she had enough to spare. “You hurt?” he asked, stalling.

“Cramps,” she answered shortly, and Paul suppressed a grin.

Any urge he’d felt to smile, though, disappeared when Alison spoke. “I’d think you’d be glad you’re having them.”

Paul found the bottle in his pack and rolled it across the floor toward Nina. It stopped at the toe of her boot, and she stared at it without speaking. “Don’t need any food,” Paul said, though it wasn’t strictly true. “I’ve got enough for myself for now. But since y'all were here first, I figure anything left in this place is yours, and I saw some lighters in the display on the counter. I’d be happy with a few of those. Seems like a good thing to have, and they might come in handy for trades down the line.”

Off to his other side, John and Mark traded a stunned look—Paul guessed they hadn’t noticed the lighters. Mark got up to retrieve them. “Let’s see …” he said, counting. “If we each keep one for ourselves, that leaves six for you. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Paul said. Mark brought them over to him, and out of the corner of his eye Paul watched Nina. She didn’t reach out to take the aspirin until the lighters were in his hands. Mark distributed the rest of them while Nina swallowed a few pills with a swig from her water bottle. She noticed Paul watching and nodded at him. He figured that was the closest she would come to thanking him, so he gave her a smile. Not the huge, dazzling grin that his mother had once told him would break hearts someday. Instead it was the small curve at the corners that his girlfriends, over the years, had all told him was sweet. He used the first one on women he wanted to impress—the second was usually reserved for the ones he was already close to. But the last thing he wanted to do was make Nina think he was attracted to her.

Even though he was. Illuminated by the candlelight, Paul could see she had beautiful eyes, big, vividly blue, and fringed with thick lashes. He had a pronounced weakness for women with gorgeous eyes.

But Paul could see Nina wasn’t like some of the other women he’d met on the road in the aftermath of the plague. The ones just as lonely as he was, who were willing to trust him for the length of one night before they parted ways in the morning. He never looked back, and neither did they. There hadn’t been many, and it had been weeks since the last time, so it was only natural he’d find himself falling in lust with someone.

Even if prying words out of that someone was a challenge.

Before the silence between them stretched on too long, Paul forced himself to look away. “Alison, you want anything?”

[thewayofthetrashcompactor]

Rating: M Tags: Lingerie, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, Corsetry Chapter: 2/4 Summary: Rey’s part-time job at Holdo’s lingerie botique is going surprisingly well. She may not be an expert, but Poe’s there to sweet-talk the customers, and it helps pay her bills. But one particular tall, dark-haired customer catches her eye while he’s looking at corsets, and she’s about to learn a whole new meaning of customer service.

Chapter 2: Ben’s fitting

read on ao3

So glad people are enjoying this! Here’s the link to the post with reference photos for the lingerie described in this chapter, for anyone who wants to see those.

Also! @alhenacrimson on twitter did some lovely art of Kylo in this chapter!! <3

@persimonne also drew Kylo in lingerie last year which is also v important

(Disclaimer: We're taking some small liberties with the retail industry and men's lingerie here purely for the purpose of getting Ben (and eventually Rey) in as much pretty underwear as possible. Pls understand the minor sacrifices in service of this important cause.)

- - - - - - - - - 

Rey willingly stays far later than she ever has before to put Ben's order together so it'll go out first thing in the morning, once Amilyn approves it. The security guards are starting to give her nasty looks by the time she finally closes the boutique behind her. She tells herself that she's just dedicated to her job. Absolutely no personal interest whatsoever in seeing the giant tree man who can fill out a corset like nobody's business again. Especially not in lingerie she's picked out for him. Completely impartial. Totally professional concern only. If she says it enough times, it'll be true, she's pretty sure.

So there's no reason for her heart to leap in her chest when Amilyn tells her that the new inventory has come in when she arrives at work a week later.

“This was for one of your customers, wasn't it?” she asks, her bangles clinking as she gestures to a box of pieces put aside by someone on the morning shift when they went through the delivery.

Rey bends and sorts through the clothing. “Yes!”

Amilyn smiles at her. “Some very nice sets there, and good variety. You did very well. It's good to see you getting involved with the customers.”

Rey colors. Entirely professional. Just helping a customer. “Thanks,” she mumbles. She does her best to walk at a normal speed to the register to call Ben.

He doesn't answer, and as a professional she is not at all disappointed. She simply leaves a message, letting him know his order is here and he can come to the store at his convenience.

She knows it's unrealistic for him to show up that evening , but that doesn't stop her from jumping every time a customer comes in. She's never been so attentive a greeter, and even the ever-chipper Poe gives her an odd look when she beats him to welcoming the third customer in a row.

She manages a more relaxed stance the next day. Ben could come in when she's off shift, or prefer to work with Poe instead of her. Which would be completely reasonable. He may be a very striking man, but she has no claim on him. He's just another customer.

And of course, once she's come to that peace towards the end of her shift, Ben comes walking through the door, looking even better than she remembers in a tight cut navy suit, hands shoved into his pockets.

She smiles brightly at him and ignores the rapid beating of her heart, the traitor. He half-smiles back at her, his lips pressing together and one side twitching upwards, then ducks his head down as he walks right to the register.

“Hey, Ben! You got my message?”

He nods. “Sorry, was hoping to get here earlier, but work always runs late.”

“It's fine! You have plenty of time.” She glances at the clock. “Well, an hour, but that should be enough. Do you want to come back to the fitting rooms with me? Or, if you want, I can get Poe, he can help you.”

He shakes his head emphatically, then glances at her and swallows noticeably. “No. I trust your judgment.” He suddenly looks at her nervously. “I mean, if that's okay with you?”

“Of course!” she says, a little too loud, and winces. She steps out from behind the counter and leads the way to the back.

She pulls out the small rack she set aside earlier where she carefully hung up each of the items she'd chosen. It's an array of delicate fabrics in shades of blue, from nearly teal to a bright royal. She'd not gotten far in her research before realizing she probably should have asked him more about his preferences, and decided to go with consistency. “I ordered everything in a similar color so we can focus more on the styles than the colors; I hope that's okay? If you want anything in a different color, we can order that in for you if our supplier has it, but we'll at least know which ones work for you.”

Ben looks at the rack she's assembled and nods. “That makes sense. I like the blue; I don't have anything in that color.” He glances down at himself. “Well, not for...underneath, I mean.”

She nods in return and they look at each other for a moment, until Rey turns away and blindly grabs for the first thing on the rack. “I thought we could start with something similar to what you'd already tried on?” She holds out a corset to him, this one in a sheer light blue, as opposed to the leather he'd bought last time.

“There's, um, underwear with it too; do you have anything to try it on with?” By his blank stare, she can tell that he doesn't. “It's okay, I can go grab a plain thong for you, just a second.” She runs out and grabs a plain white pair of men's underwear from the small pile near the register, something that'll be small and unobtrusive enough that it won't get in the way of the lingerie, but with just enough coverage that he can try everything on. She makes sure to grab one of the larger sizes.

She thrusts it at him along with the corset, and he takes them and turns for the first fitting room. The small metal bar to keep the door shut slides into place, and she looks back out into the store. Poe, very casually, passes by.

“You good?” he mouths at her with a look of concern. She gives him a quick thumbs up and he nods. She can hear Amilyn’s chiming laugh from the front of the store as she helps another customer.

It takes a couple minutes before Rey hears from Ben. The lock slides back and his face looks out at her from a crack he opens in the doorway. “Do you want to see?” he asks hesitantly.

“If you want me to!”

He considers, then pulls the door back more, keeping himself mostly behind it. She steps inside and he closes the door behind her, clearly not wanting to be seen by anyone else.

“Could you help me with the laces?” he asks, turning his back to her. One hand holds the laces tight at the base of the corset. She takes them from him with trembling hands.

He's removed all of his clothes except for his socks, and replaced them with the sheer periwinkle corset and matching panties, the tight white thong underneath. She can see his front in the full-length mirror on the side wall, the mirror just tall enough to show up to his wavy hair.

Instead of the clinging leather she caught him in yesterday, this one is made of sheer panels with the channels holding the boning showing clearly in between. The top and bottom are bound in the same satin that makes up the corded laces. The shocking paleness of his skin shows through the fabric, the soft blue setting it off nicely. The way it hugs his torso makes her want to run her hands over it, see if she can feel the warmth of his skin through it. The panties match in style, made up mostly of the sheer and bound in the satin, spanning his hips and cutting across his firm ass. The thong fits entirely under them, and she thinks she probably should have dug for an even larger size, judging by the heavy weight of him pressing against the tight fabric. She imagines what it would look like without the modesty of the additional garment, his thickness held back only by the blue sheer, every inch at once exposed and concealed. The outfit almost makes him look delicate, while still not taking any inch away from the power of his body. She rips her eyes away from his reflection in the mirror, though the view from the back isn't any less distracting, and quickly tugs the laces tight and ties them in an efficient bow.

“Good?” she asks, immediately annoyed with how breathy she sounds.

He nods. “What do you think?” He doesn't meet her eyes.

“You're beautiful.” She realizes what she said and flushes. “It's beautiful, I mean. Not that you're not, just--" Her mouth snaps shut in embarrassment. “It looks really good on you,” she finishes.

His cheeks have turned pink, but there's a hint of a soft smile at the corner of his lips. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

He turns to the side and looks at himself critically in the mirror. She watches his hands hungrily as they run down his sides along the length of the corset. The muscles in his arms flex with the motion.

“I like it,” he says finally, sounding almost surprised.

“Good. Good!” she says, nodding and smiling. “Glad we're starting on a high note.”

“How many outfits did you prepare?” he asks, turning to her with hints of laughter in the way his eyes crinkle.

“Not too many.” She waves dismissively. “And whenever you want to be done, just let me know.”

He nods in agreement. “What's next?”

She stands and opens the door just enough for her to slip through. A moment later, she passes through another hanger. “Try this.”

The pattern repeats; she waits just outside while he changes out of the old outfit into the new one. She turns when she hears the creak of the door and he lets her in. She can tell by the half-amused, half-unsure look on his face that this one probably isn't a winner. Sure enough, when she sees the full length of him, her expression matches his.

“It's a little, um …”

A bodysuit of dark blue lace goes from his shoulders to his crotch, with a deep vee at his chest. The color is rich and the lace looks soft and touchable, but the way it hangs in folds off his shoulders, the waist-deep vee, and the cut across his hips creates a weird kind of a vibe, something uncomfortably…

“Pornstar.” Ben says bluntly, giving himself a judging look in the mirror as he turns. “I look like a seventies pornstar.”

Rey winces. He's not wrong. If the fabric was more synthetic, he wouldn't look out of place on a skeevy magazine to be shoved under a teenager’s bed. His hair, while gorgeous, is not helping the impression. “A really hot one,” she offers apologetically. “I'd definitely risk a sketchy video store for your stuff.”

He laughs. “Thanks,” he says, grinning at her. “But still, maybe not quite the look I'm going for.”

It takes her a minute to recover from the full force of his smile. She can tell why he only offers awkward half ones normally. The power of the real thing is devastating.

“Fair,” she says finally, smiling back. “Something else?”

“Yes, please.”

She passes him in another bodysuit in a similar shade, but this one in mesh and straps instead. It doesn't take him long to slip out of the last one and into this one.

His expression is still unsure when he opens the door again, and she's starting to feel disappointed after their initial success. When she sees him, she has to keep herself from scrunching her features.

It's not a bad look, it's just… not well suited to him. The wide mesh of the fabric that covers his front isn't really his kind of aesthetic, and the wide bands crossing it and circling his back are oddly placed for his frame. The straight edges of the front piece make the proportions of his torso seem awkward, and she can tell he's becoming more uncomfortable the more he looks at himself in it. She immediately feels guilty for making him feel that way.

“No?” she asks gently, letting her apology show in her face.

He looks at her and shakes his head. “No.”

She nods and stands. “Just a minute, we'll get you something better.”

She feels more optimistic about the next piece she gives him, even if she's not entirely certain it'll be his style. Her heart lightens when he looks less unhappy when he invites her in again. His expression is somewhat undecided, but open.

The floral set she's given him this time suits him much better. The applique stretches from the collar around his neck to where the sheer fabric bands just above his waist, the edges of the flowers flat against his skin. The way his chest strains the fabric makes her a little insecure about her own struggle to fill out a bra, but she shoves that aside. The small panties do him plenty of favors as well, the simple straps around the sides emphasizing the jut of his hips, and the way the matching sheer with embroidered flowers in the middle struggles to contain him, even with how he's clearly adjusted himself to fit. She thinks he might be half hard with how the fabric bulges, and she blushes and quickly looks up.

“What do you think?” she asks as he considers himself, turning to the side and back again.

He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes slightly at the mirror. “I'm not sure. What do you think?”

“I like it,” she tells him honestly. “It's a good fit, and the cut really flatters you."

He nods, but doesn't look entirely convinced. He turns back and forth again. “I don't mind flowers, but I'm not sure about the embroidery.”

“Okay! But you like the shape of it?”

“Yeah. I think so.” He considers. “I think this might actually look better on you,” he says thoughtfully, then meets her eyes and blushes furiously.

Rey turns red too. Now they he mentions it, she can see herself in something like that, the flowers curling around her subtle curves. Even better is the thought of Ben seeing her in it, his eyes drinking her in, followed quickly by his hands, broad and warm over the sheer material.

“Thank you,” she stammers. She meets his eyes and wonders if he's imagining the same thing. “I have a couple more for you though.” She retreats from the room.

She's saved some of her favorites for the end, and she has a good feeling about her next option. So does he, judging from his look once he's changed. Her mouth goes dry when she sees all of him.

Lace cups the bottom half of his chest, two curved triangles supporting his pecs, the scalloped edge just covering his nipples. Straps cross over the top of his pecs above the lace, joining the ones wrapped around him. His underwear is designed similarly to the thong he has on underneath, cutting directly across, low on his hips, with the lace extending down to just cover him, exposing half of his cheeks in back. It's an incredible play of showing and hiding, the teasing edges of the lace playing at revealing the rest of his pale skin. The rest of him is left bare, his strong legs, firm stomach, and toned arms. Rey's never seen a businessman look quite so good. She wants to trace the lines of his body, trail her fingers along the lace, before finally slipping her hands underneath…

She shakes her head, trying to focus on the moment. Unfortunately, Ben sees.

“You don't like it?” he asks worriedly, looking down at himself with newly critical eyes.

“No! I do! Very much!”

He raises his eyes to meet hers. “Really?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “It's good. Very good.”

He twists to see a different angle. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” She knows she's not being very eloquent, but she's not sure how much she can say without embarrassing herself. ‘I'd really like to lick your chest’ while honest, might not go over well. It could, but she likes her job, and it's not worth the chance.

She sits, watching him, until he clears his throat. “Did you have any others?”

“Oh, yes!” She leaps up and grabs the next to last piece. The design is similar, and she's excited to see that he's still looking pleased when he opens the door again.

She hopes he doesn't expect her to give any kind of coherent evaluation of this set, because the only thing that falls out of her mouth is, “Um. Yes.”

There are straps with this one like with the last, but this is more strap and less fabric. A sheer panel covers the top of his chest, elegant curving lines running through it, covering nothing but his collarbones. Straps cut diagonally over and around his chest, dusky blue intersecting pale skin. They run around his sides, down from his chest, and up from his hips, meeting low on his stomach, just below the lines of his abs. More straps cut across the top of his thighs and down from his hips, cradling his now prominent erection between them. Another sheer panel just barely covers his modesty, from his low stomach to between his thighs. If it weren't for the thong, his ass would be left bare, framed by straps above and below. Rey can see him wearing this between her thighs, her hands braced on the patches of his skin revealed by the straps as she leans over him. She swallows.

His lips curl up in amusement. “You like it?” She nods wordlessly. He trails his fingers along the sheer collar over his chest thoughtfully. His hand drifts lower, but he looks over his shoulder at her in the mirror and drops it back to his side. He looks down at the floor as his cheeks redden. She's startled back to herself and looks away, cursing herself mentally for embarrassing him.

“I've got one more,” she says as she stands.

She absently bites her nails as she waits for him to put on the last set, then drops her hand as soon as she realizes what she's doing. The door creaks open and she turns quickly. Her eyes are as round as saucers before she's even through the door. She can't believe that she's outdone herself after the last one, but she's looking at the firm proof of it.

The last piece is mesh again, which she wasn't sure about after the earlier failure, but this redeems the material completely. The mesh only covers his pecs, from his collarbone to the line above his stomach, a medium blue with plenty of stretch to it, as evidenced by the way to struggles to contain the breadth of him. It's helped, however, by the window cut in the middle, splitting the top in half, forcing it to curve around him to meet at the top and bottom. It's practically begging for her to bury her face between it, feel the dips and lines of his chest under her lips.

The bottoms are almost an afterthought after that sight, though the way the fabric shows how it's stretched and distended by the thick and heavy shape underneath is extremely interesting. He could walk out the door in this right now and cause mass casualties right and left.

“That's...wow.”

The thought that immediately springs to her mind is him braced over her, panting and sweaty, as she nuzzles into the gap of the garment. She can practically taste the salt of his skin on her tongue.

His hands come up to cover his chest, and her own palms itch to cup it. “You don't think it looks… weird?”

She shakes her head emphatically. “Not at all. It's hot.”

He grins back at her. “I love the way you say that. Hot.” He mimics her accent and she wrinkles her nose at him playfully.

“It's true though,” she insists.

“Well, if you say so, it must be true.” He smiles at her, and she senses even with his teasing tone, he's genuine in the meaning.

“Exactly,” she says with false haughtiness, crossing her arms as she smiles.

“You do have good taste,” he admits, pulling at the waistband with his thumb.

She laughs. “Thanks, I'm glad you think so. I was worried you were going to hate everything, honestly.”

“You did a fantastic job,” he assures her.

“You ready to check out then?” she asks, even as she's loathe to have this end. There's no reason for Ben to come back after this, at least not anytime soon.

Ben hesitates. “Actually, I was thinking...I might be interested in looking at some women's options too?”

Rey's stomach drops. “I thought you said you didn't have a partner?” She tries to keep her voice light and pleasant. Not accusing. He's just a customer; it's none of her business if he wants to get lingerie for a woman.

“I don't!” he says quickly.

She furrows her brow. “Then why…?”

“Just… in case?”

“Just in case,” she repeats, looking at him in disbelief.

He nods, embarrassment spread clearly across his features. She can see the bright red tips of his ears through his hair again.

She mentally throws up her hands. Fine. Whatever he wants. “What size were you looking to have ‘just in case’?”

“Um. I was thinking possibly about your size?”

She stares at him, the shape of what he's saying very slowly start to take shape in her mind.

“What kind of styles?”

“Whatever you think is best. I trust you.” He looks at her with a great attempt at seriousness, somewhat ruined by the red of his cheeks.

She nods slowly. “And... you want someone to try them on to see how they'll look?”

He nods emphatically. “Yes. If you'd be willing, that is.”

She considers. If he wants to buy lingerie he doesn't need in order to spend more time here, she's not really against that. Not only is it more product that she'll have helped him purchase, she wants him to stay too. Ideally they could get each other's numbers and go out on a date somewhere where one of them isn't half-naked, but, well, this isn't entirely a normal situation. Once again, this probably isn't company recommended customer service methods, but she is still helping a customer. And to be honest, the fact that she's having this conversation while staring into his tit window is very possibly affecting her higher judgement.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay.” His face lights up with another of those beautiful, adorable, breathtaking smiles, and she smiles back, biting her lip. “Where do you want to start?”

Notes:

Again, here's the reference post I put together for this chapter. The findings for men's lingerie online were generally disappointing, so there's some imagination required, but hopefully it still works. (Unfortunately, given that this was originally written last year, not all of the links at the bottom of the post work, but the photos are still there and are in chronological order for the fic.)

(The disclaimer at the bottom of that post also still applies, and to expand on that: clothes are made to fit bodies, not the other way around, and whether a piece of clothing fits a person, flatters them, or makes them feel confident is a reflection on the clothing, not the person. All bodies are wonderful and deserve clothes that make them feel good <3)

[girlafraidinacoma]

IN THE LAP OF THE GODS Ch.2:

Summary: What do you get when you mix a tight-knit art community, young, hot-blooded twenty-something university students and good old-fashioned British Rock & Roll? Probably the next best hope for art and music that generation has to offer. With her friends’ band skyrocketing to fame, what exactly does a girl do when she suddenly finds herself sitting in the lap of the gods? The answer: do the only thing she can do, rise to the occasion of course!

Pairing: Gwilym Lee!Brian May x Original Female Character [chill guys, this WILL be a Bri fic…eventually].

Warnings: swearing, a very dramatic Freddie, Rog has a bit of a moment with a pastry...

Words: 2.2k +

Author’s Note: Chapter 2, Baby! I hope you guys enjoy it, and pls feel free to comment, reblog or leave a like if ya feel like it!

Kind of AU, contains both elements from real life and the Bo Rhap universe, so imagine whoever you prefer whether they be the real thing or the Bo Rhap Boys–be free.

Link to the Ao3 fic!

Chapter Playlist:

Chapter Two - That One Time When Fred Went Out for Coffee Or, Why Being a Young Entrepreneur is Harder than You Think

Kensington, 1969.

Out of breath and flushed pink, a young woman strode inside a musty little stall in Kensington Market, the shop bell giving a faint sort of ding upon her entrance. Freddie, who was quietly cataloguing their inventory in a faded blue balance book, smiled when he looked up to greet his friend.

“Wyn Clemens! You’ve come to visit me.” Fred said, ecstatically skipping his way to her from behind the counter before hugging her shoulders.

The girl made quick work of untangling the woolen scarf she had wrapped several times around her neck and mouth, placing that and her coat on the hook by the door.

“I swear I’ve gone up and down the place twice and both times I’ve managed to miss you entirely! Blimey, I didn’t think it was this small.” Her eyes scanned the darkened interior.

Currently their stall was nondescript, tucked away in between a carpet wholesaler and a shoe repair place, hidden away amongst the plethora of other stalls just like it. Cozy was one word for it, cramped was another, more accurate descriptor. Really, it was more of a booth. There they sold various garments and accessories to clothe the young bohemians, rockers, mods, punks, hippies and everyone in between who seemed to frequent the market there. Their shop was manned and looked after by Freddie and his friend Roger, and only by them, which was why, while their inventory was not exactly vast, it did quite literally seem to swallow the entire place in velvet, faux fur, leather, and brocade.

“Hey!” someone yelled in indignation, “This is a very fine establishment we run here, I’ll have you know!” A blonde head emerged from the back of the shop, a little area sectioned off by a dark curtain. It hid a tall, narrow mirror and served as both their stock room and fitting room.

The girl raised her eyebrows, feeling slightly sheepish at having offended this new person. “Wyn, this is Roger, the friend of mine I’ve been telling you about. He runs this dismal dispensary with me.” He said, not looking behind him as he gestured his head towards the blonde’s general direction. “Rog, this lovely creature you see before you is my new friend, Wyn.”

“Ah, the Ealing bird. Well, I suppose I could let that slight go for your pretty face. The name’s Roger Taylor, very nice to meet you, love.” He gave her his hand to shake, his lips upturned in a smirk.

“Careful there, Rog.” Freddie reminded him, which earned him a mischievous look from the blonde.

“Wyn,” the girl announced, unfazed by Roger’s cheesy smile, “I’ve come bearing gifts!”

“Ooh! Gimme! Gimme!” Freddie cried happily, his hands making grabbing motions all the while.

Wyn tutted at his antics shortly before presenting him a brown paper bag. “I thought it would cheer you up, while you’re stuck here.”

Freddie opened the bag and what he found there nearly brought him to tears. The bag was filled with fresh pastries still warm to the touch as he poked his nose inside and took a long whiff. He placed it on the counter before examining the goodies one by one, a hungry Roger joining his side. “You do care, Wyn! It’s just like Christmas! And here I thought everyone had forgotten about me. It feels like I haven’t seen the sunlight in days.”

“Weeks, really,” Roger added mournfully, before stuffing his mouth full of pastry. They had both been cooped inside their store trying to peddle their wares since the weekend and it was now Tuesday afternoon.

Freddie had a dramatic faraway look in his eye, his mouth shaped in a forlorn ‘O’ before finally snapping out of it. God, Wyn thought, he really should have been in theatre.

“C’mon then Wyn, tell us about all the changes in the outside world,” Fred was prattling away again, “Is dear old Liz still on the throne? How about Coronation Street, is it still playing? And what about tie-dye? Are people still wearing tie-dye?”

There was a quiet moan of “Oh Jesus, that’s the spot.” that came from Roger as he polished off an apricot danish.

Wyn gave the two of them a fond chuckle, trying to ignore the ridiculous sounds of ecstasy from the blonde as he delved into a croissant. “Let’s see,” the girl gave a pause for dramatic effect, “Yes, God forbid anyone else who’s set their eyes on that chair. Everybody knows Coronation Street is for ever. And it brings me to tears just thinking about it, but yes, unfortunately, the tie-dye lives on.”

“I knew it! It’s useless, Rog.” Freddie shouted, calling Roger’s attention. “Just bury me in these fur stoles. Even if they’re not real at least I’ll be kept warm and they haven’t assaulted anyone’s retinas.” He had trudged over to a rack of miscellaneous animal coats and stoles and buried his face in them. His further rant became muffled and unintelligible as he cried into the mass of faux fur.

“How long has he been like this?” The girl turned to the blonde with a worried look.

“On and off since Saturday,” he informed her, brushing stray crumbs from his mouth. “We’ve hardly sold anything.”

“This is no good, come on Fred. You just sit down, I’ll go out and grab us a couple of coffees and come straight back.”

Freddie perked up upon hearing this and was almost back to his usual spirits. “I have an idea, can I go get the coffees instead, darling? I want to go outside, I want to hear the birds chirping and smell that London smog. Maybe that old lady from the fruit and veg stall could yell at me, that would really get me going.”

“Alright Fred,” she said with a comforting smile, pouring into his open palm a handful of coins. “Happy hunting.”

Freddie had taken off so fast he had forgotten to bring his jacket which he left still hung up on the door.

“That’s probably the happiest I’ve seen him all weekend,” Roger said, wistful.

“If he’s happy, then I’ve done my job.”

Wyn had started to look the clothing racks, her fingers stroking the garments in fascination. She also took out two or three items she had liked, inspecting them fully before shaking her head and putting them away, Roger meanwhile stood beside her giving his opinion on them. Soon he was entertaining her by spinning little yarns about several pieces, how they acquired them, whom they were worn by, all made up but increasingly fantastic.

“You looking for anything in particular, love?”

“Not really, whatever catches my fancy, I suppose.”

“How about now,” he said as he had stood in front of her, hands on his waist and a twinkle in his eye, “Do I catch your fancy?”

“I’m in the market for clothes today, Roger, not a boyfriend.”

“Who said anything about a boyfriend?”

“Uh-huh. Maybe some other time, Taylor.”

“Alright, alright.” he said, pacifying her. “Something to wear then. Something that will work for your figure?”

“I’d never be opposed to looking good.”

Roger was still flirting with her, but he also appeared to have a clear focus now, he was a man on a mission to find her something she could be persuaded into buying. “Do you like wearing patterns?”

“I’d give it a go.”

“How about colour?”

“Love them.”

“Any you’re partial to?”

“Every colour of the rainbow!”

Roger scoffed playfully in exasperation, she really was no help, but he enjoyed her company. “I think I have just the thing for you,” Rog said with a snap of his fingers before darting behind their makeshift stock room/ fitting area. He came back about a minute later with a frock on a plastic hanger.

What he presented her with was a white and green houndstooth dress in the mod style which had a black peter-pan collar and a short mini-skirt. Wyn let out a pleased hum, “I like the way you think, Taylor.”

Roger barked a laugh though he seemed to glow in praise, “That might be the first time a woman has said that to me.” He reached into his pocket and fished out a packet of smokes and a lighter. “Go on, then. Try it on.” He urged her, pushing her behind the curtain and sticking a cigarette between his lips.

Roger sported a boyish charm, all buoyancy and pent-up energy. Wyn thought it was ironic the way that he was blessed with the looks of a cherub by Raphael, yet flirted like a devil. It was little wonder Freddie had warned her about him when the topic of his friends came into conversation. Before she could wrestle the corduroy off her legs Roger’s hand had slipped in between the partition, throwing a pair of shoes at her.

“Black gogos? Oh, you really must be out to get me. I’m going to freeze out there.”

“You’re just fitting them on!” The voice behind the curtain replied. “You don’t have to wear them out…You don’t have to wear anything at all.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Just saying.”

A couple of minutes later she stepped out from behind the curtains, smoothing down the dress where it wrinkled a bit in her midsection. “What do you think?” she asked, striking a pose.

Roger took another large puff from his half-finished cigarette before putting it down on the ashtray on the counter. He began to sing lowly as he drew near to her, “Is there anybody going to listen to my story, all about the girl who came to stay?” There was another cheesy grin on his face as he took Wyn’s hand abruptly and led her into an impromptu slow-dance. “She’s the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry. Still, you don’t regret a single day. Ah, girl,” he sung as he spun her.

Wyn smiled, “I’m going to take that answer as a ‘yes’, but I wouldn’t know how I’d wear it though, my hair…”

“You could wear it swept back, or up.” Roger suggested, now extremely close. He removed his left hand from her hip and used it to gather her thick hair up and away from her face, fingers grazing the back of her neck.

Wyn cleared her throat, her cheeks and neck heating. “You think Fred will let me have this for cheap if I asked nicely?”

“I think if you asked nicely, he’d let you have the whole shop.”

“It’s probably costing him more to run it at this point.”

“Us both.”

The two broke out into a fit of laughter, not even acknowledging the customer who had just walked into the shop.

“Okay, Rubber Soul. So these are the kinds of guerilla tactics you’d stoop to for a sale?” Blushing furiously, Wyn pushed away from him when they finished their dance, choosing to hoist herself up onto the counter next to her bag of sweets.

“Only the best service to our most important clientele.” he said through half-lidded eyes.

“How much for this?” a voice said from behind them.

Roger groaned in annoyance having forgotten the presence of this third person. It was a shame Fred still hadn’t come back, that way he could have dealt with this new nuisance while Roger turned his attention to the girl in front of him. Rog barely spared him a glance as the man held up the garment in question. “Seven pounds.”

Wyn watched the interaction with great amusement.

“Five quid.” the man tried to haggle.

“Seven.”

“This button’s loose, five and five pence.”

“Six if you leave here now.”

“You’re fleecing me.” the man whined handing Roger the money with reluctance.

“Actually, that’s crushed velvet.” said Roger with a cool, impassive grace, plucking his cigarette from the ashtray and taking a puff.

Slipping on his new jacket, the man set off grumbling, nearly bumping into Freddie who narrowly avoided him, carrying a tray of hot coffees in styro cups.

“Took you awhile Fred,” Roger called, leaning against the counter and smoking casually.

Freddie placed the coffees down on a bench by the window. “Roger,” he began slowly with a disgruntled look in his eye. “Was that man just now, wearing my coat?”

“Huh?” this alerted Roger somewhat, he had stopped what he was doing. His eyes grew large as he looked to Freddie and back down at the crumpled note and small coin in his palm.

“Rog, you absolute pillock, did you sell my coat?”

“...Fuck.”

As quick as a bolt Fred had crossed the room in two strides, snatched the money right out of Roger’s grasp and ran back out the door. Freddie ran after the man who bought his beloved jacket, shouting and swearing like a madman all the way.

At the end of the day, Wyn had felt so guilty she ended up paying for her things in full. She had no regrets though. Sure she was down a couple of pounds, but she had managed to get herself a great fitting dress, and a killer pair of boots, not to mention the favour of the infamous Roger Taylor -- a feat she hoped she had managed with all her dignity intact. Or at least she hoped.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Goddess I Am: Part 5

Pairings: Bucky x Goddess!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, murder....? kinda, minor attempted robbery by a OC side character.

Word Count: 2,407

Box: Wanda Maximoff (Yea I’m cheating to knock out some squares. Sue me.)

A/N: This is for @marvelfluffbingo. It’s gunna take out a couple squares so I’m gunna tag all of them accordingly. It’s also a slight MCU/DC crossover, using Jason Momoa’s Aquaman as reader’s father. I’m using Olivia Wilde as a face character just because I can.

Aesthetic by @sorenmarie87​

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in your bedroom on your too soft for your liking bed staring blankly at your crown. A starfish sat front and center showcasing a giant sapphire heart that you father had found years before on the ocean floor. A tiny, perfect, tear drop shaped pearl hung below it, and two thin chains came off the bottom legs of the starfish, laid perfectly against your forehead and connected to the band just in front of your ears when you wore it. The rest of the band was a gorgeous collection of shells of different shapes and sizes that had been found in the various seas and oceans your father ruled over. You brushed your thumb across the dark blue gemstone in the middle, you think it was called the heart of the ocean, as you wondered how your father was doing. It was the first time in your life that you had ever been away from home this long and no matter how much you didn’t wanna admit it, you missed Atlantis.

“Um… Goddess?” You glanced up at Bucky and laughed as you set your crown back on your head.

“No, sweetheart. Just (Y/N), please.” He nodded as he came into your room nervously.

“OK. I just wanted to come check on you. I didn’t see you at lunch.” Your brow furrowed as you   tilted your head to the side.

“Am I supposed to be somewhere at a certain time?” He smirked at you as he grabbed the chair from your disk… no, desk… and pulled it up to the end of your bed.

“No, doll. You don’t have to. I just… I know what it’s like to be in a strange place and not really know anyone you’re there with.” You nodded your head in understanding as you fiddled with the sea glass bracelet on your right wrist.

“I miss home.” You said softly as you looked down at the glass pieces. “I miss the ocean and my father. But… don’t tell him that.” You said with a huffed laugh as you looked up at the super soldier with a shake of your head. “He’ll just say he told me so.”

“Your secret is safe with me. What else do you miss? Maybe I can help.” You smiled at him as you scooted forward on the bed. You instantly groaned as you pulled on the confining legs of the pants you had on because they didn’t wanna move with you.

“These… things!” You laughed as you pulled at the uncomfortable material. Bucky muttered ‘jeans’ under his breath as you yanked at them to try to make them more comfortable. “I don’t like them.”

“Well that is an easy fix.” He laughed with a nod of his head. “I can have one of the girls take you shopping…”

“Shopping?”

“Umm… buying clothes? Trading money for things you need.”

“Oh!” You said as a smile stretched across your face. “Like bartering.”

“Just like that.” He laughed. You quickly got up from the bed with a smile ready to go shopping.

“OK so let’s go.” You said as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the door.

“Wait! You need shoes, baby girl.” You looked at him as you tried to place the word you had learned the day before and he subtly pointed at your bare feet.

“Oh! Right, feet covers.” He laughed at you as you went over to the closet, which you were calling the ‘clothing keeper’ and looked at the various options you had. After a moment, you saw Bucky’s hand slide in front of you and grab a pair of black, strappy, flat ones. He took a knee beside you and you held on to his shoulder as he slid the sandal on your foot.

“Yea, I better go with you.” He teased as he put the sandal on your other foot. “It’ll be easier than reminding the girls that they actually have to teach you how to be human.” You huffed as you gently hit him on the shoulder.

“I can be a human, thank you.” You chided as he stood up and looked down at you. He nodded unbelievingly as he reached up to adjust one of the chains on your crown.

“Sure you can, doll. Come on, let’s go see what Wanda and Natasha are doing and see if they’ll help.”

——

“(Y/N), not it the road!” Wanda called out with a laugh as Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you back onto the curb. You let out another ‘oh’ as you watched a car whiz past you right where you were just standing.

“Why are they in such a hurry?” You asked as you let Bucky lead you down the street while keeping an eye on both you and Wanda.

“That’s New York, doll. Everyone’s in a hurry.” You nodded as your eyes darted around at the tall buildings that surrounded you and reminded you of the lions in the zoo cage.

“Let’s try in here.” Wanda said as she pointed to a little shop on the corner. You looked up at the giant flower above the door and followed after your new friend into the store. “We’ll stick to long skirts.” She said as she grabbed a sea foam green, floor length skirt off the rack and held it up to look at it. “That and crop tops. It’ll be the closest thing we can get to what she wears at home?” She looked over at Bucky with her eyebrow raised as she handed you the skirt.

“If you think so. I’m a little… no! Not out here!” Bucky said sharply as he grabbed your wrist to stop you from taking off your jeans in the middle of the store. His and Wanda’s faces flushed red as you looked at them, confused.

“When you’re in public, you have to change in a fitting room, OK sweetie? Not out here. So for right now, let’s button these back up while we pick out some outfits to try on.” Wanda hesitated as she glanced down and watched you button your jeans back up before looking at Bucky and hissing. “Does she even have underwear on?”

“My guess is no.” Bucky responded as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Wanda nodded as she looked around the little store with a sigh as you played with the material of a shiny shirt on the rack in front of you.

“Alright then. This is going to be really interesting.” Wanda laughed as she turned to start grabbing clothes for you so she could put an end to this uncomfortable situation as fast as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OK, now you have to promise me that you will put one pair of panties and a bra on every day under your clothes.” Wanda whispered as she pointed at the small pile the store clerk was shoving in one of the many shopping bags. You nodded your head as you rubbed the cotton fabric of your new sky blue skirt between your thumb and pointer finger. The woman behind the counter handed Bucky the last of at least ten bags with a small smile as Wanda reached in front of you to pay.

“May we go to the zoo again?” You asked as you looked up at Bucky, ignoring the strange look the woman was giving you as she stared at you and your crown. “I’d like to visit my babies.”

“We can.” He said slowly as he glanced at Wanda. “But you have to stay outside the fence this time.” You pouted out your bottom lip and followed him toward the door as Wanda grabbed the receipt and followed after the pair of you.

“But that just doesn’t seem fair to me.” You said as Wanda quickly ran to your side and laced her arm with yours to keep you from straying into the street again. “Those poor babies deserved be loved…”

“Yes they do.” Wanda interrupted politely. “But look at it this way. You are the goddess of the animals so those lions will know you mean no harm. But say a child sees you simply walk into the cage the way you did. Just say they slip through the bars and go into the cage as well. Your babies aren’t going to understand that that child doesn’t mean any harm and they could attack and severely hurt them.”

“Oh, no!” You gasped as you realized what she was getting at. “No, that just won’t do.” Wanda smirked and exchanged a glance with Bucky who was fighting to control his own laugh as you shook your head. “No, we can’t have that at all.”

“So we can go to the zoo again, but you have to agree to stay outside the fences.” Bucky clarified as he moved all the clothing bags to his right hand. You nodded your head in agreement as you stopped to wait at a street corner they way the other two Avengers were.

“Everything feels like a zoo here.” You said as you looked around at the busy Manhattan streets. “Cages everywhere for animals and people alike. You don’t see that in Atlantis.”

“It’s quite different here.” Wanda agreed as she pulled gently on your arm so you could all cross the road to drop off the shopping bags before continuing on to the zoo. “I’m from Sokovia originally. Moving to a big city like this was very confusing for a while.” You nodded at her and studied her face as she spoke; trying to pick up on where the sudden sadness was coming from.

“You miss it.” You said simply as the three of you stopped at another busy street corner. She glanced over at you for a moment before looking down at her feet.

“I miss my brother. He passed away on a mission a few years back.” You nodded your head slowly and gave her a tight lipped smile.

“I’m so sorry, Wanda. Would you like me to take that pain?” You offered as you took your hand off her upper arm and held it out in front of her. She shook her head and looked back up at you with a smile.

“It makes me stronger.” She said with a nod of her head. “Pietro was my best friend. His death was tragic but it meant something. I don’t want to remove that…”

“Of course, sweetheart.” You said as you pat her arm and continued walking. “Death, while it’s painful, builds character.” You heard someone scream to your right and all three of your heads whipped in that direction instantly. 

“What was that?” Wanda asked as you pulled away from her arm and instantly headed down a space between two tall people cages. You heard her call your name as you held up the edge of your skirt and took off at a run toward a mean looking man that was trying to take something from a woman. You instantly felt your blood boil and spent a quarter of a second wondering what was wrong with the unredeemable lost soul in front of you. When you reached the pair, you grabbed the abuser by the throat and threw him hard against the wall behind him. The brick instantly crumbled and the man gasped a rattling breath to regain the air you knocked from his lungs.

“No!” You said as you pointed at him angrily. “You do not do that!” The terrified yet still ballsy man reached down and scrambled to grab a gun from a holder on his hip but he hesitated as an evil laugh poured from your lips. “Oh yes, please.” You said as the pearl on your crown began to glow pinkish orange; calling for your signature weapon from the depths of the ocean. “Please give me a reason.” You held up one hand toward Bucky to keep him back as the man cocked his weapon and pointed it at your chest. Before he could even pull the trigger, your quindent; an almost mirror image to your father’s slammed into your hand. With one quick spin, you gripped it over your head and slammed it into the man with a loud growl. He opened his mouth in a silent scream as blood pooled beneath him and in half a dozen heart beats, he was gone. You pulled your quindent out of his body and quickly crouched down in front of him.

“Your soul is cleansed. May you be lost no more.” You said as you reached out put your hand on his forehead. You felt the dark soul pass through your palm and come out brighter on the other side on it’s way to the afterlife. You let out a sigh and shook your head as you pulled yourself up right with your weapon. “He couldn’t be saved.” You said with a shake of your head as you looked back at Bucky and Wanda’s stunned faces. “Not until death.” Bucky nodded his head and reached his hand out to you cautiously.

“Let’s head back to the tower, OK doll?” You held up your finger at him and glanced over at the woman who had been getting attacked in the first place.

“Give me the pain, my child.” You said as you stepped over at her and crouched down. You slowly put your hand out to her, knowing how scary you must be to her, and nodded reassuringly at her. “It’s OK. I won’t harm you.” She looked up at you with tears in her eyes and nodded as she set her hand on yours.

“T-thank y-y-you.” She sobbed as you absorbed the fear and pain she would otherwise hold on to for years that would darken her soul. You smiled as strongly as you could and stumbled a step as you stood up.

“Go home, Jeanie. Do not let this shape the beautiful woman you are.” She looked up at you stunned as you turned to walk away and stumbled again as your whole body paled.

“Wanda.” Bucky shouted as he caught you before you fell. “We gotta get her water.”

“I got this.” She said as she grabbed the bags of clothes and your quindent with her powers. “Bring her straight up to the pool.” Bucky nodded in agreement and watched you curl into his chest as he took off at a run back to the tower.

Part 6

[brokemultidotexe]

Unexpected Pt. 5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You never expected your trip to Seoul to end up like it does. You didn’t expect to step off the plane and have coffee pour down your shirt. You also didn’t expect the guy to offer to show you around the city. You notice things about him that don’t quite make sense, like how he shows interest but will only see you when he has the time which is at random hours during the day and night. Who knew your only friend in Seoul would turn out to be an international star and just how difficult things could get.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: None

Genre: Romance/Friendship

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

You spend the day in Seoul trying to familiarize yourself with the city, but you ended up getting lost at least three times and the fourth time you decided to throw the towel in. Instead of riding all the way back to the hotel you decided that you would just stay in the city and maybe go to the Han River. You took your phone out and called the hotel to let them know if someone named JK called for her to tell him that you were at the Han River and just to meet where they had talked. You decided to try walking and if you couldn’t make it the rest of the way you would call an Uber.

Of course after a mile you decided to call an Uber and have them come pick you up. When they dropped you off you walked down to the river's edge off to the side where you and JK had sat before. You looked over the water and smiled as you watched the sun start to set. Even though you were still a little outside the city and the light pollution drowned out most of the stars you could still see a few. You laid back on your back and looked up. You started to count the ones you could see like you used to do when you were younger.

“Y/N!” you felt someone shaking you. You opened your eyes and blinked at few times before a face with a mask came into focus. You sat up and screamed out, startled.

“Hey, hey. It’s me, it’s JK.” the recognition hit and you felt yourself relax a little. When you finally got to take a good look at him you could see the lines on his forehead and you were pretty sure he wasn’t too happy right now.

You decided to try and play it off, “How was practice?”

“Really? You’re going to start with how was practice? I asked you to meet me at your hotel, not the Han-freaking-River.” He pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders, “You don’t have the outwear to be out here when it’s this cold, you’re freezing. Also do I need to even go into the fact that you’re out here by yourself, asleep, in a secluded area?”

You had to admit it wasn’t your best moment, and in hindsight you probably should have gone back to the hotel. You slipped your arms into the sleeves and felt the warmth against your skin and you realized just how chilled you were. You tucked the jacket around you and chewed on your bottom lip, “Sorry?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “From now on just please don’t go out at night without someone. Preferably me. Okay?”

“Why preferably you.”

“Because I know you’re safe with me. Okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.”

“Now that you’ve taken five years off my life, lets go get you some clothes.” He held his hand out and helped you stand. You were instantly glad for his jacket once you walked out towards the crowd and the air got cooler. You walked beside him while he typed something on his phone, once done he slid it into his pocket. “I’ve got an Uber coming to pick us up. The store isn’t that far, but I'd rather not keep you in the cold.”

The Uber driver had only been one street over so it didn’t take long to get to the store. The two of you had cut it a little closer than you had meant to on time and you felt bad about coming in so close to closing but JK wouldn’t have it and ushered you towards the door and following you inside. The music was loud as always so you leaned in closer to JK, “I don’t feel like trying to read all the signs, point me in the right direction?” You could hear him laugh but he pointed off to the right and the both of you headed in that direction.

You made your way through the sections and pulled out a few shirts that were nice but would be enough to last you through the cold while you were in Seoul, at least you hoped. You weren’t really familiar with the weather. “Hey JK.” He must have not been too far behind you because he popped up beside you and caused you to jump. You heard his laugh even over the loud music. “Will this be good enough for winter or whatever?”

“Sure, if you layer three of them under a heavy jacket when you go outside.” You sighed and put them back on the table where you got them. You chewed on your bottom lip as you scanned over everything. You decided that you would come back to casual clothes. You needed to get something to wear to an interview if you were going to get a job here. You saw a rack of dresses over by the dressing rooms. You navigated through the racks of clothes and came to a stop in front of it. It was nice but you could still wear it out and dress it down if you wanted to. You picked up two sizes and compared them, you weren’t sure what your sizing would be.

“If you aren’t sure you can just try it on.” His voice caused you to jump again.

“Dear god are you a cat or something? You don’t make any noise when you move.” You shot him a mock glare but took his advice and took both of the dresses into a dressing room. You chose the smaller of the two and stepped into it once you had gotten your clothes off. You pulled the zipper up most of the way and took a look at yourself. You had to admit you looked pretty good and it would be easy to dress up or down if you wanted to. You nodded to yourself and reached behind you to pull the zipper down but it only moved a few inches before it caught on something and it wouldn’t budge. You cursed and tried to slip out of the dress without having to unzip it but the dress was such a perfect fit that it didn’t give any room to take it off any other way.

You brought your head against the dressing room door and groaned. You knew you could ask JK to help, but you really wanted that to be your last resort. You continued to try and get the zipper to give way so you could get the damn dress off. Your fingers slipped and you ended up hitting your elbow on the dressing room wall. The profanities that came out of your mouth would have made any sailor proud.

“Y/N? You okay?” You heard his voice float into dressing room area.

“Shoot me.” you groaned to yourself. You cleared your throat, “Yeah, its just….the zippers stuck. Uh do you think you could help me out?” You bit your lip. You wanted the ground to just swallow you up.

“Uh...yeah.” You heard him clear his throat, “Yeah just uh, open the door and show me the zipper.”

You opened the dressing room door and kept your back to him, your face was red in embarrassment. You jumped when you felt his hands brush against your back trying to grip the zipper. “Sorry, cold hands.” he murmured behind you. You felt him tugging on the zipper and trying to find ways to get the angle so it would push past whatever had caught it. He gave it a huge tug and the zipper went down all the way to your lower back and you gripped the back of it before it could fall open. You turned around to mutter a quick thanks and closed the door. Despite the quick exit of closing yourself in your dressing room you didn’t miss the fact that his face was bright red and he had been rubbing his neck which you realized over the last two days that he only does that when he’s uncomfortable.

You stripped out of the dress as quickly as you could and changed back into your original clothes. You were done with anything with a zipper for the rest of the day. You hung the dress up on your way out and saw JK sitting there talking on the phone. He hung up as soon as he saw you, “I’m not getting the dress.” you bit your lip when you saw his neck flush. “I’m just going to grab a few things and whatever doesn’t fit I'll just bring it back at another time.” He followed you as you went through searching for items, mostly basic items that would keep you warm for the next few weeks. You nodded your head when JK said that he’d be right back while you continued to browse. You got to the point where you were having problems juggling everything, it would really help to have more hands.

“Here let me help.” you felt items being pulled from your hands and looked up to see JK standing there with a smile and a bag looped around his wrist.

“Oh, did you find you something?”

“Yeah. Are you ready to check out?” you nodded and you both walked to the counter. Once everything was laid down you saw just how much you had picked up. You had the money and you really did need the clothes, but it wasn’t normal for you to go out and buy so much. The total had been a little more than you were expecting but you paid and JK grabbed most of the bags leaving you to carry only one. The cold air hit you like a wall when you opened the door. You tightened his jacket back around you and mentally cursed yourself for not putting on the thick jacket you had just bought and you didn’t want to keep either of you in the cold longer than you had to.

“I’ll get the Uber.” you switched the bag to the other wrist and pulled your phone from your back pocket.

“Oh I already sent for one, I did it while you were checking out.”

You couldn’t help but smile. JK was a breath of fresh air and something you weren’t used to. Back home all guys seemed to be self serving, but on occasion you could find a good one. JK had managed to treat you better in a couple of days, than any guy did for months back home. The both of you walked over to a bench outside the store and decided to get to know each other a little more while waiting.

“So, is there anything about you that you’re willing to talk about? I feel like we’ve mostly talked about me.” You weren’t looking him in the eyes, you started picking at the nonexistent lint on your jeans.

He seemed to be deep in thought so you waited in hopes that he would be willing to talk about himself. “So you know how I told you I have six roommates?” You nodded. “When I first moved here and our group was created we had a small apartment. We all slept in one bedroom and had a single bathroom.”

“Whoa, how do you even fit six people in one room?” it was hard to believe so many people could sleep in one room.

“Bunk beds mostly, I had a twin mattress though. The hyungs had the bunk beds.” He took his beanie off and shook his head to fix his hair. You hadn’t noticed that his hair had become lighter than the last time you saw him.

“So you’re the youngest?”

He nodded, “Yeah, the oldest is five years older than me. They pretty much raised me so I don’t see them as my roommates, they’re my family.”

“Do you still share one room?”

He shook his head, “No, we were able to move out and find a place that was bigger. The hyungs have roommates, so there are two people to one room.”

“Who’s your roommate?”

“No one, I have a single room to myself.”

“That must be nice.”

He nodded his head, “Yeah, sometimes. I have a room to myself because I'm loud.” you raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief, “I really am. I mean I'm shy and I don’t really talk a lot, which I'm sure you’ve noticed.”

You smiled, “Just a little bit.”

“I’m not always quiet and shy. I’m loud and I like to joke around and have fun, but it takes me awhile to get to that point with people. For some reason it’s been easy with you, I don’t struggle as much as I normally do.” He was rubbing the back of his neck and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “It’s hard for me to connect to people my age.”

Before you could say anything a car pulled up to the curb and JK quickly grabbed the shopping bags and the both of you got into the car. The car ride back to your hotel was quiet but you caught JK sneaking glances at you and couldn’t help but smirk. There were so many things you wanted to ask him, but you knew most of them he probably wouldn’t answer. Sometimes you caught yourself wondering why he was the way he was. He would go back and forth between carefree and guarded and it truthfully frustrated you sometimes. You liked JK and you really did want to be friends with him, but you knew you also needed to meet more than one person.

You were thinking about going to look for a job the next day and maybe even roam around and check out a few places to see if you could find an affordable apartment. You looked over at JK and he was typing away on his phone with a frown on his face. How could someone still look that good while frowning. It's not like you didn’t notice that he was insanely attractive, you were doing your best to ignore it because having him as a friend in a new city was more important and feelings just complicated things. His sigh brought you out of your thoughts and you watched him slide his phone back in his pocket.

“Everything okay?” you couldn’t help but ask.

It was like he forgot you were in the car for that split second with the way he looked at you, “Just work stuff.”

“Okay.” you could see the signs that he didn’t want to talk about it.

When the car pulled up to the hotel you both headed towards the elevator and rode it all the way up to your floor. Slipping the key card from your back pocket you unlocked the door and let JK enter first. He set the bags down at the foot of your bed and collapsed on it. You dropped the bag you were carrying with the others. Climbing on the bed you laid on your back beside him so you were both staring at the ceiling. Neither of you moved for awhile and just enjoyed the others company.

“I’m going to be super busy for the next two days and I probably won't be able to come see you.”

“Oh. That’s okay. I need to look for apartments anyways.” You were bummed that you wouldn’t see him, because even after a few days you were getting used to the company.

He turned his head to look at you and you met his gaze, “Don’t forget number six on the list.”

You laughed and shook your head, “I won’t.”

He grinned and turned his head so he was staring back up at the ceiling. It felt like so much had happened since you landed to the point it didn’t feel like you had only been here for a few days. The way you felt comfortable around JK was different. It was like you’ve known him for years and it’s effortless, at least on your end. You wished you could take a glimpse into his brain to get some idea of why he was so guarded, but you hoped that in time things would be different and he would feel comfortable enough with you that he wouldn’t have to be so guarded.

AN: Another day, another chapter. I hope you all enjoyed this one and I'm hoping you will all stick with me while I write this. I have a lot planned and I'm slowly getting there I promise. I would love to know what you guys think of this chapter. I’ve also got a oneshot in the works that will probably be out later today or tomorrow, so look out for that. As always, thanks for reading!

*requests are OPEN*

[automotivegearz]

Top 5 Best Rooftop Tents For 4Runner, Tacoma, Subaru Outback, Jeep & Other Trucks (2020 Reviews)

Still wondering which ones are the best rooftop tents for your SUVs or trucks? Let’s check out the Top 5 best rooftop tents in the market right now!

Rooftop tents are essential when you travel or have a picnic with friends and family. It is much more convenient and practical for normal tents. They are quite compact and comfortable and should not be a problem to use. This is absolutely a great investment and brings comfort for you and everyone.

On the market today there are diverse models of rooftop tents. We have selected the top 5 best rooftop tents from many different brands and models. In the following article, we will give you a detailed evaluation and a buying guide for you. Check it out!

Top 5 Best Rooftop Tents For 4Runner, Tacoma, Subaru Outback & Jeep 2020 Reviews

#1 Best Overall: Thule Tepui Explorer Kukenam 3

Thule is a giant brand of car accessories, their products are always of good quality and satisfied by many customers around the world. Rooftop tent products are extremely diverse with diverse prices and designs for you to choose from. Explorer Kukenam 3 is for two with premium wooden materials. This product is perfect for its combination of durability, high-quality materials, and is easy to set up. These are all that the customer is always looking for. 

The body cloth of the tent is mold-resistant, UV-resistant, and water-resistant. Besides, there is a PU coating on the fabric for even more protection against weather conditions. Because it is a reputable brand and long-term quality, the product is widely available in many retailers today. It is very easy to own it by visiting the car accessories store where you live. 

The market today has too many competitive products, but Kukenam still leads in quality and value. This product is really what campers are looking for its durability and reliability. An overview of the great versatility and features is offered. You will not be disappointed when using this product.

Pros

High durable

Very good quality

Suitable for most cars

The frame is quite sturdy

Cons

The way the ladder is installed can have some minor problems

Thule Tepui Explorer Kukenam 3 is quite perfect for you, nothing worth mentioning about their downside.

#2 Best Value: Smittybilt Overlander

Smittybilt Overlander is well known for its good price tag. This product is designed for two to three people to sleep comfortably. The materials this product uses are 420D dragonfly, 600D ripstop polyester, flying poles, and powerful zippers. This product is water-resistant and resistant to all weather conditions. The special feature of this rooftop tent is that there is an LED strip light and your dirty shoes can be left outside the tent with a rubber shoe bag. Compared to the money you spend, this product is worth it. 

For this product, the budget is no longer an issue. The features that this product offers are also convenient and light. Cars of limited weight will be suitable for this product. Fitted with zippered windows as well as a sunroof and mosquito net to keep you cooler during summer. However, the installation of this rooftop tent is not as easy as other products. You will have many difficulties, so someone will need help. But in terms of price and great features it offers, this product is worth it.

Pros

Suitable for many vehicles

Good price

Light, durable, and waterproof

Cons

Installation is very difficult

Smittybilt Overlander will be right for you if you are looking or a tight budget and are not too interested in installation.

#3 Best Size: Tuff Stuff Ranger Overland

One of the largest rooftop tent on the market today is Tuff Stuff Ranger Overland. This product next to the main room is on the terrace and gives you an extra room which is hung on the side of the car, underneath the tent, which is great when you have more than two people. With an extremely impressive size for customers that is 90×90 inches, it is well worth owning because the price is quite cheap. It is worth mentioning here, the extra room will be very convenient if you only go for two people, the extra room to change or cook. Extremely convenient. 

Installing the tent is extremely easy, it won’t waste your time and effort. You can completely install by yourself without any assistance. Customer reviews that the materials and features that this product offers are the same as those of similar products. However, the price is cheaper, the quality is also better. It will be perfect for you to use for a few days out. You will be truly satisfied when using this product.

Pros

Installation is very easy

Very large size

Good quality

Cons

The zipper may have problems

Tuff Stuff Ranger Overland is suitable for those who like a large rooftop tent to comfortably operate.

#4 Best Choice: Tepui HyBox Tent

Continuing is a product from the very familiar brand Tepui. Their products always deliver the best quality and never let you down. The special feature of the tent that we are going to introduce here is that it is not simply a tent. You can use it as a cargo crate when unpacking the mesh walls and removing the cushion. You can hold a lot of things like snowboards, tools, furniture. The flexibility that this rooftop tent offers will make you feel comfortable with your choice. 

When you build the product with tent mode, the space is comfortable enough for two people. Two mesh windows provide ventilation and prevent mosquitoes from entering. Besides, the two doors are convenient and easy to use. The tent fabric helps to resist water and environmental damage. This product has always topped good consumer reviews. Not only a rooftop tent but also used as a container is too great to choose from. The installation is also relatively difficult because they are quite heavy, you need someone to help.

Pros

Great flexibility

Can be used in all seasons

Good quality

Cons

Pretty heavy

The flexibility of Tepui HyBox Tent will be suitable for those who require good durability and capacity.

#5 Best Budget: Yakima SkyRise Medium

Speaking of the rooftop tent easy to install and the best budget, Yakima Skyrise Medium must be mentioned. They won’t require any installation knowledge because it’s really easy. All you need to do is align the clamps correctly with your crossbar and mount it, no additional tools required. The manufacturer also makes sure you’re safe as the tent can lock into the rack. However, to avoid unnecessary errors, you should check the specifications first. 

Parts of the tent are quite complete design. The water-resistant body fabric can completely resist the harmful factors in nature, making your trip extremely happy. All the materials of this product are very light, the weight is greatly reduced. Although it is not durable, it is well worth the price and quality to buy it. The customer reviews are always satisfied with this product. The height of the tent is quite high, making it convenient to operate in a tent but can also be affected by wind resistance. You will not be disappointed when using this product.

Pros

Extremely easy to install

Good price

The weight is quite light

Good protection

Cons

Not durable

Customers looking for products that are cheap and do not require durability, Yakima Skyrise Medium is just perfectly suited.

Features to Consider When Buying the Best Rooftop Tents

Finding the best rooftop tents can be not as complicated as you expect if you know all the features below:

1. Storage capacity 

The first thing you should consider and find out before buying a rooftop tent is their storage capacity. You will be looking forward to a tent that can accommodate everyone to accompany you during the camping trip. If you choose a terrace tent with too little storage capacity, it will be difficult in everything as well as not comfortable. So please consider and consider your own needs to buy the most suitable product.

2. Weight 

Not every rooftop tent has the right weight for your car. These types of tents all tend to be much heavier than normal tents. Make sure your car can support the weight of the tent, otherwise a huge problem will occur between you and your vehicle. Find out how much load your car’s rack can withstand, from there choose the rooftop tent accordingly to avoid unexpected events.

3. Quality 

The quality of the tent is also important for your trip. You should choose a product with good quality to avoid problems such as rain, environmental influences, insects. A happy outing with the safety of you and everyone else is most important.

4. Price 

Currently, on the rooftop tent market, there are all kinds of prices to choose from to suit your budget. The most expensive doesn’t mean the best. Consider your needs and abilities so that you won’t find it difficult to buy. Just the tent meets your needs and won’t cause you unnecessary trouble. There are many products according to the prices for you.

FAQs

1. Can I install the rooftop tent by myself? 

You can completely install the terrace tents yourself if they are easy to install and quite lightweight. Usually, a few tools are needed to be able to install it. If it’s safer, someone should help you. Because the installation is uncertain and correct then you will have trouble using it. If possible, ask someone for help and check.

2. Should I own the rooftop tent? 

The rooftop tent is more expensive than other normal tents. However, it is convenient to use. Some types of tents can be used to hold utensils. There are many great features that the rooftop tent brings. With quite good weather resistance, premises are no longer an important issue. You should own the rooftop tent as it is worth it.

Final Words

Most of the rooftop tents have the same features. However, the quality and price and flexibility differ. So choosing the right product for you will be difficult. In the above article, we have evaluated many aspects of the product to help you better understand. 

In our opinion, to use the perfect product, you should choose Thule Tepui Explorer Kukenam 3. You can consult our opinion to make your final choice. Hope the information and our reviews in this article will be of help to you. 

Thank you for staying around.

Guide: Thule Tepui Explorer Series INSTALLATION

source https://automotivegearz.com/best-rooftop-tents/

[daegutans]

Drunken Nights

➪ pairing: taehyung x original character

➪ genre: angst

➪ warnings: none

➪ word count: 1.9k

➪ read it elsewhere: ao3

➪ Synopsis: In which Taehyung thinks he isn't good enough for his girlfriend so he abandons her, but on a drunken night he finds himself back her doorstep.

Author’s Note: It’s easier for me to write if I develop an actual character so sorry that this isn’t a Y/N fic, but you can still read it as a Y/N fic if you want to. 

➪ Masterlist: here

➪ request reactions and text messages here

Once again for the fourth time that month Hana finds herself alone in her room. The room cold and lifeless now that Taehyung was no longer around. Hana rolls over on her side, against her wishes a small tear falls down her face. It isn’t long until she is full on sobbing and shaking in her bed.

She had let her guard down when she let Taehyung into her life. He was so unique, and Hana had been drawn to him. He wasn’t a showoff like other guys she had dated, but there was no doubt whenever they went out that Taehyung wanted to be with her only. When she was with him, she had forgotten what life was like before she met him; he made her feel whole again. However, on that Friday night Hana remembers with her entire body what it feels like to be alone.

While Hana lays at home Taehyung is across town at some trashy club. Ever since Taehyung started distancing himself from Hana, he found himself attracted to the club life. It was the easiest way for him to forget about the terrible thing he had done to Hana and how shitty he was as a person.

Taehyung downs drink after drink at the bar until the bartender refuses to serve him and he is forced to find his way to the dance floor. When it came to girls he didn't even have to try, they just always gravitated towards him. He hated that girls constantly threw themselves at him and that was why he liked Hana. They had met at a mutual friend’s party. Hana was introduced to him, but for the most part besides small conversation she stayed to herself. She didn’t attach herself to Taehyung’s side in an attempt to get his number or go home with him for the night.

In fact, they didn’t actually exchanged numbers until about three weeks after that party when they had accidentally run into each other at a coffee shop. Hana had been running late that day and to make things worse she had forgotten her wallet. Taehyung just so happened to be in line behind her. Out of kindness he offered to pay for her drink not even realizing who she was until she turned around to thank him. She insisted on him taking her number so that she could pay him back another time.

Taehyung is pulled out of his thoughts when a small sable haired girl approaches him. "Do you want to dance?" she asks.

Taehyung froze unable to speak. As he stared at the girl all he could think about was Hana. The girl reminding him of the girl he had stupidly let go. Everything that he was trying to run from through drunken hookups came back at him hard.

The sable haired girl waited for a reply but got none as Taehyung turned on his heel, walking out of the club. He walked and kept walking; it was as if his body was on autopilot. He didn't stop until he was outside of herhouse.  

After her small breakdown Hana sits in her room half-heartedly flipping through the channels hoping to find a distraction. She almost didn't hear the faint knocks on her front door. Who could be knocking at her door at two in the morning? She walks to her front door slowly and looks through the peep hole, outside being too dark for her to fully see the face of her guest.

"Who is it?" She calls through the door.

"It's me, please open up." Hana doesn’t know why but she doesn’t hesitate to open the door for the man who had broken her heart.

It was as if the air was sucked out of her lungs as she stared at the dark-haired boy. Taehyung looked so different; his eyes were hollow accompanied by deep bags under his eyes. His hair had gotten so long that it touched the nape of his neck. His clothes that at one point were form fitting hung loose on his body and he looked like he hadn’t had a proper night’s rest in days.

Taehyung took a step forward to enter the house and Hana was pulled out of her head. She stopped him, firmly placing her palm against his chest to hold him in place.

"What do you want Tae?" She spoke weakly using his nickname, despite her efforts to sound strong.

“If I’m being honest, I’m - I’m not quite sure what I want.” He stuttered struggling to get his words to come out in his drunken state. He could tell that Hana was annoyed, but he didn’t even plan to come over to her house. He just knew deep down that he needed to see her again, needed to hold her in his arms. Hana stood waiting for Taehyung to give her an explanation as to why he was now at her door at two in the morning after weeks of not talking to her at all. What Hana really wanted to do was slam the door in his face.

“Fuck, just let - just let me start ove-”

"Why should I? All you're going to do is walk out again when you decided I'm not good enough."

Taehyung sighs and looks down at the ground. She was so wrong; it wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough for him. It was that he wasn’t good enough for her, his friends had told him countless times that he wasn’t the type of person to stay in one long term relationship. Hana stands there watching him and struggling to control her breathing.I can't let him see me cry, I need to stay strong, she thinks to herself.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system preventing him from thinking straight or maybe it was the way Hana looked so beautiful, the overhead light casting a glow on her sable hair. Her eyes twinkling, the way she bit her lip due to the nerves. Taehyung watched her lips before taking in her appearance, she was wearing the short pajama set that he remembered gifting to her for her birthday.

With no further thought Taehyung blurted out the one thing that he had never told Hana before. “Don't you see? I'm in love with you.” Fuck, he thought. That definitely wasn’t the way he had wanted to tell her this and it wasn’t under the best conditions.

Hana scoffs and folds her arms over her chest. "You're drunk."

"Please let me in, let's not have this conversation where your neighbors could hear."

Hana doesn’t know why she does it, but she steps aside and closes the door behind Taehyung as he comes in. She stays at the door and hugs her body, suddenly feeling extremely naked in front of the man who has seen her in the most vulnerable ways on numerous occasions.

They stand still and stare at one another, neither one wanting to speak up first out of fear of what might come next. Taehyung knows that this is his one and only chance to make Hana understand why he left. He looks down at his feet and is the first one to break the silence.

“You are my home, and once I realized that it scared me, so I ran. This doesn’t excuse me being a coward, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’ve never been in a relationship where I saw myself doing things like getting married or having kids and I let the things that other people were saying get to me. I’m not perfect and you deserve a man who doesn’t think twice about his future with you. So, I thought the best thing for you was for me to go away and allow you to find someone else who is much more deserving. When you’re happy I feel on top of the world, when you’re sad I want to take whoever hurt you and teach them a lesson. So just imagine how much torture it was to know that I was the one hurting you, that I was the reason for your tears.”

When Taehyung looks up from his shoes at Hana, he notices the tears rolling down her face. She doesn’t move to wipe her tears. She hates Taehyung for making her feel so weak and she hates herself for crying in front of him. But most of all she hates herself for wanting nothing more than to hug him.

“Who do you think you are!?” Hana sobs and clenches her fists angrily. “Who are you to decide what’s the best thing for me?”

Taehyung takes a cautious step towards her. Hana continues to sob and looks at him through her tears. “Do you know how much I racked my mind trying to figure out what I did wrong. You left without even saying goodbye. I came home from work one day and you were just gone. All of your stuff, all evidence that we lived together, everything. On top of that you were too much of a coward to even call me, you had Jimin come and break the news to me.” Hana slams her fists against Taehyung’s chest, he doesn’t even flinch.

“I know I messed up so bad- “

“No Tae, you messed up colossally. Who cares about what people were saying to you about us? We were in this relationship together and things were fine.”

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

“I don’t know if you can. Things can’t just go back to the way things were before, you really hurt me.”

Taehyung drops down to his knees in front of Hana. “I’m not asking for things to go back to how they were. I’m just asking for a second chance; I just want to be in your life again. Even if you can never find it in your heart to forgive me, could we even just be friends?” Taehyung chokes on his words, he is now also crying.

“I-I don’t know what to say. It’s late, you’re drunk and we’re both entirely too emotional to be making any decisions right now.” Hana looks down at the boy who is bowed at her feet. She’s torn on what to do. It’s not like Taehyung cheated on her, he just abandoned her and only out of fear. Where do they even go from here?

Hana desperately just wants to sleep, her head hurts from all the screaming and crying. She looks back down at Taehyung. “Why don’t you stay the night and we can talk about this in the morning?”

“Okay.” Taehyung wipes at his face. He moves to lay down on the couch. Hana knows she shouldn’t, but she’s feeling selfish tonight. She holds her hand out to Taehyung and he looks at it confused.

“You could um- sleep in the bed with me tonight if you want. You look like you haven’t really slept comfortably in days.”

Taehyung doesn’t turn down her offer even though he knows he should. Instead he follows her down the hall to the room they used to share. He silently takes off his pants and slides into the bed beside her. Hana moves closer to him, sighing at the comfort of his familiar body heat.

The pair sleep through the night in each other’s arms. Tomorrow they will have to talk about everything, but for the night they don’t think about all the things that could go wrong the next day. Taehyung sleeps better than he had in weeks now that he’s back beside Hana.

[awakeindeath]

A Little Black Stone

In about an hour. I’m going to be executed. At least, I hope so. 

I’m sitting in my cell. My home for the past… however long. Fifteen by five. It’s long and narrow and everything in it is polished steel. The bed goes across the back wall, instead of the side, so it’s only five feet long. Which would be okay if I was an Oompa Loompa, but since I’m about six feet tall it means I haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in the six months I’ve been in here. The sink is placed at well below waist high, so I have to bend down to use it, but the toilet is so tall have to jump a little when I sit on it. The window to the outside is on the back wall. It’s just an open square about two feet wide, with four bars in it, and a pile of a couple dozen polished white stones on the sill. The bars are not placed vertically like you would think, the way you see in the movies. Not even placed horizontally. The bars are splayed out like the feathers in a peacock’s tail. All coming to a point in the middle and spread around the outside edges so there is a wide gap at the top. The window is situated about two and a half feet of the bed. Too high to see out when I’m sitting up, too low if I’m kneeling. So I have to be crouched over to get any view of the outside. The view, predictably, is of the execution yard, with the gleaming steel of the Gallows right in the middle. Granted, that’s also the exercise yard and the sports field. It’s covered in a very high-quality turf that is the same green as lime Kool-Aide, with bright white lines permanently painted in to mark out a soccer field. The Gallows are right in the center of that field. They are set up very tall, with ten feet between the floor and the turf, so the inmates just play as if it weren’t actually there. The supports are simply another obstacle in the game.   Beyond the field are the walls. Wall. There is only one and it’s about seven feet high and made of solid concrete. It wouldn’t be hard for two people to climb over it if they wanted to. There’s no barbed wire and the guards almost never patrol it. But no one ever does. At least, no one’s ever tried since I’ve been here. If you look past the wall you can see the outside. Trees. Blue sky. Roads. Buildings. A school. It’s all visible if you ever looked out that far. No one ever does. The Prison is built in a half circle with the Gallows at the center. Every room on the inside curve of the Prison is a cell. Every cell’s window points out towards the Gallows. The other side of the Prison doesn’t have windows on it. Just pictures of the Gallows hung where the windows would be. The best is the Warden’s office because it has a ten by ten painting of the Gallows. Apparently one of the first inmates was an oil painter and she made it especially for the Warden. In thanks, the Warden gave the prisoner two draws the next time her turn was up. She died happily. Everyone says so. Everyone who saw it. And she looked so pretty in her pink gown as she danced on the rope. Everyone struggled as they hung. It was some primal reaction to the rope tightening around their neck. When your breath cut off, you struggled. It didn’t mean it wasn’t an honor, a privilege, to be chosen. Watching someone dance their life away at the end of a rope didn’t make me want to be the next one on the Gallows any less. It was just part of what happened. Part of the process. Your body fighting what your mind has already accepted. The Warden describes it like the pain of childbirth. You have to go through it to reach the other side. All of us are looking forward to our turn on the Gallows. Even me. Tho I couldn’t say why exactly. It feels like I’m eight and waiting for Christmas. I’ve watched so many others get the privilege of going to the Gallows time after time. Even now, sitting on my too short bed in my too long cell I’ve got butterflies in my stomach. My palms are sweaty even tho I keep wiping them on my suit pants. I look at my pile of white stones on my window sill. So many times my turn has come up. So many times I’ve gotten unlucky. Maybe it’s my suit. I’m wearing a business suit. It’s a nice suit. Charcoal grey with pinstripes. Black wingtips. Purple tie. I picked it out myself when I first arrived. It was donated, a long time ago. Some generous member of the community decided that the inmates needed to look good on their big day and gave the Prison a few dozen suits and dresses. Every inmate got to choose the one they wore. The guy before me had a suit that he looked like he was drowning in. But he’d liked its plum color so much that he had strutted his way down to the Gallows, baggy pants dragging the dirt and his hands covered entirely by the sleeves. I had to admit, watching him hang, he had looked fetching while he struggled. Not unlike a raisin on the vine as the sun set behind him. That suit was back on the rack down in the Clothier, waiting for the next person to pick it. It wouldn’t take long. It was such a unique color. People said the colorful suits and dresses were lucky. There was one suit I used to want to wear that was a neon green so bright it seemed to glow in the dark. It had so many stones in its pockets that they had to be sewn shut. Eventually, when it could hold no more stones, the Warden had retired that suit. It went up next to a pink and orange polka dot dress whose purse had been stuffed to bursting before it was retired. Both were on display in a glass case next to the Warden’s office. The lady in the cell next to mine, a hardened biker type who was covered in tattoos and scars, said the suit I picked was unlucky. That it was too dark. Fate wouldn’t notice it. I’d be stuck forever in the Prison. Hoping to get lucky. That’s why she chose a cherry red zoot suit with lavender pinstripes. But my suit fit. It hugged me like it was tailored. Once, a long time ago, the Warden had said I looked dashing in it. Now it was the one I picked every time I could. I checked the coat’s inside pocket again and felt the fifteen smooth black stones rattling around in it. One stone for each person who died in the suit.  Some of the suits had hundreds of stones stuffed in their pockets. The dresses had it easier, each one came with a purse. Tho I’d been told that some of those purses weighed as much as a bowling ball now. Perhaps it was unlucky. Maybe Fate preferred the prettier colors. The Warden liked me in this suit. I’d stick it out. Down the hall outside my cell door, footsteps echoed and I got up and walked to the bars and leaned against them. I couldn’t see who was coming, of course. The Prison curved away from my sight and the bars kept me from looking around. But I could tell who it was. The Warden. You learned real fast the sound of her footsteps. You could barely hear them, but nothing ever seemed to fully overpower them. Like a whisper of a breeze over a stone. When the Warden walked, the sounds of the Prison went silent. Normally there was shuffling of people, cloth against cloth, skin against skin, murmured voices and soft singing that all melded together into a constant white noise. But when the Warden came out all of that went away and the air turned still. The only sound was the Warden’s footstep that slithered down the cells and those of the guards who followed her, the stomp of their feet and the jingle of their keys deafeningly loud in the sudden silence. The Warden came into view wearing a smile for me. I mean, she was wearing a bunch of other things too, but the smile was what always caught my attention first. The Warden was a beautiful woman. Tall and broad-shouldered and she always wore a proper black wool suit that made the white skin of her face and blonde hair pop out of the dim light of the Prison. In the right moment, she just looked like a floating head. Especially at night, when you woke up all the sudden and she was standing outside your bars, smiling kindly down at you in the dark, with her dark blue eyes glowing like a cat's. She always had a smile on her face. Normally it was a soft thing. A barely there curl of her lips that made you think that it was a secretive smile just for you to see.  Now tho, she was beaming at me. Her mouth open and her teeth bright white. It was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.   “Hello Miss,” I said, my voice echoing down the Prison like a gunshot, even tho I had spoken as quietly as I could. “Hello, child. It’s your turn to pick.” She said. Her voice was honey and cream. It soothed the fears and calmed the mind and made all the aches and pains of living fade away. She stepped to the side a little so I could see the guards behind her. Like the Warden, they wore black suits. But their skin was like mine. Well, sort of.  We were all different colors of human, not that it mattered in here. Their skin showed imperfections and the effects of living a life under the sun. The Warden’s was perfectly white. Next to the Warden, all of us looked the same kind of dirty and worn. That didn’t seem to matter to her tho. She still smiled for me. The guards held between them a black silk bag. Big enough to fit a human head into and with a drawstring holding it closed. The bag was bulging with small round shapes that dented the sides and stretched the fabric. At the Warden’s nod, the guards pulled the bag open and held it up to where I could reach into it. In my haste, my hand shot out of the cell door to grab what was inside but the Warden’s hand intercepted mine. Her hand is bare, and the skin the same color as her face. I never noticed how different the skin on other people’s face and hands were until I met the Warden for the first time.  Then, of course, everyone’s invisible imperfections became instantly apparent. The same happened to anyone who met the Warden. And right now the perfect skin of her perfect fingers was brushing mine, the long and delicate black painted nails of her fingers ever so slightly scratching my wrist. “Hold on. You should know. You are only the fifth person to choose today. Everyone before you drew white. As you can see, there are still many people who need to draw today.” She glanced at the bulging bag still carrying a few hundred stones. “You should not get your hopes up. I do so hate it when my children are disappointed.” “Y-yes Miss.” I stuttered. Damnit. I hate when I stutter in front of the Warden. I sound like an idiot.  “I’ll try not to be disappointed, Miss.” “Very well. You may continue.” The Warden withdrew her hand and waved for me to continue. Much more under control, I reached into the bag and felt around. The stones were round and smooth, about the size of peas. They rattled against each other and my fingers with little clicks and clacks as I tried to feel for something different about them. Some minor change in the way they felt that would tell me which was the one I wanted. There was no tactile difference, of course. There never was. Even so, I felt around desperately while the Warden watched me with knowing eyes, unblinking, until I finally pulled one out. White. “I’m sorry, child.” The warden’s voice rang with some of the disappointment that had to be on my face. My shoulders dropped and I nearly lost the ability to stand as all the strength went out of my knees. Not again. The little white stone shone bright in my hands as I fought the tears back from my eyes and looked up at the too kind face of the Warden and tried to give her a smile. “Next time, Miss.” “Next time, my child.” The Warden’s smile melted back down to that small secret smile she always wore as she pulled the cell door closed and she turned to walk away with her guards, off to the next person in line. I shuffled to my too short bed at the other end of my too long cell as I listened to the Warden’s gliding footsteps grow quieter and quieter. I placed my new white pebble on the sill with its brothers and sisters, identical to them in its gleaming failure. Maybe it was the suit. Maybe I was just cursed to be here forever. Never to move on. “Perhaps, child, we should try again.” The Warden’s voice said from the front of my cell. “Perhaps Fate isn’t done with you, today.” I turned so fast the bones in my back popped. The Warden stood just as she had before, slightly to the side of the two guards who held the black silk sack with is drawstring already open, in front of an open cell door. I rushed forward, almost tripping in my haste to reach the Warden. I drew up short tho and forced myself to breathe. To be calm. To have the dignity the Warden always possessed. To be worthy. Not just a grasping child. “Once more, child.” The Warden whispered, reaching out to cup my cheek in a hand that seared my flesh. “Once more.” I reached again into the bag, my eyes locked on the Warden’s, not scrabbling around or trying to cheat Fate. Just picking the first stone that came to my fingertips and pulling it out of the bag. I didn’t even look down at it, at first. I didn’t want to be the first to break eye contact. But the brilliant smile came back to the Warden’s lips and I knew what I would see when I finally pulled my gaze away and looked down at my hand. A little black stone. “Well done, child.” The Warden purred. “Well done, indeed.” I stared down at the little black stone for a moment. It was mirror shiny and I could see myself, distorted and drawn out, in its round surface. The black of it was deep, deeper it seemed that the ones already in my pocket. And it looked like it held something deeper within it. A trick of the light probably, but that little stone was, for that brief moment, the center of my universe. The sign that my time had finally come. I tore my eyes away from it and looked back into the smiling eyes of the Warden. She reached out and took my hand in hers. Her skin was fever warm against mine as she folded her fingers around my palm. “Come along.” She said and pulled me out of my cell as I slipped the little stone into my inner coat pocket to join the others. The Warden pulled me away from my cell, towards the Gallows. Towards eternity.

I’ve never been so happy.