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selfignitingimagines · 3 years

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Liam- Badass

A/N: This one has been in my ask box for a really long time, but I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ve been rewatching season 6, and Liam has grown on me a lot as a character!

Request: Hi can you plz do a review where (based in season 6 episode 14 where everyone Is judging Liam and all that) and the reader is trying to be nice to him and be his friend when no one else will but Nolan has a crush on her and that is another reason he wants Liam to change so she can she the “monster” he is thx❤️❤️😘

“Find anything interesting?”

You jumped. The voice had startled you as it came from behind a library shelf. When you turned, a pair of blue eyes caught yours through an empty space between books.

“Sorry,” Nolan Holloway apologized, smiling sheepishly as he came around to your aisle. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” you told him. “I was just trying to find another copy of the bio textbook for Liam. He forgot his.”

Nolan glanced back toward the collection of tables in the middle of the school library. One was occupied by Liam, Mason and Corey, with a single empty seat waiting for you.

“Study group?” he asked.

“Sort of,” you told him. “It was kind of spontaneous.”

He nodded. “You know, I don’t really get why you hang out with those guys. Mason and Corey, I sort of understand, but Liam? He just seems like he’s hiding something.”

You raised your eyebrows. It wasn’t the first time someone had questioned your friendship with Liam because of his temper, but Nolan seemed to be talking about something else entirely. “What do you mean?”

“You have to notice all the weird stuff that goes on around here, right?”

“I think everyone does.”

“Yeah, so haven’t you noticed that they’re always at the center of it all?”

“Not really, no,” you told him. “You sure you’re not imagining things? The bio exam is coming up and I don’t think anyone is getting much sleep…”

You trailed off as you noticed he was still staring at your friends. You were about to just back up and leave when he turned to you.

“I’m not sleep-deprived. I just pay attention. I pay attention to you too, you know.”

He had this strange, intense look in his eyes, and you were suddenly uncomfortable.

“Okay,” you agreed, struggling to keep a polite smile on your face. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to studying so…”

You trailed off and turned, quickly walking back to your table.

“There aren’t any more books,” you told Liam.

“That’s fine. We can just share...hey, are you okay?”

Liam had seen Nolan getting a little too close to you over by the bookshelves. He knew he had a tendency to be a little overprotective, and, as Mason had also pointed out, a little too jealous. Maybe he didn’t have a right to be, but there were many times that he couldn’t help it. He had heard the way the other lacrosse players talked about you in the locker room.

Nolan himself had said a few disgusting things when he didn’t think Liam had heard him. Though he couldn’t confront his teammate outright, he made sure to check him extra hard at practice.

Maybe that was why he had been so suspicious as he watched Nolan breathe down your neck while you searched for an extra textbook. Maybe it also had something to do with how much Liam cared for you, and the fact that Nolan seemed to be up to something worse than getting into your pants.

You nodded as you sat down at the table. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just...I don’t know. Do you ever get the feeling like something bad is about to happen?”

Corey and Mason shared a concerned look, but Liam tilted his head.

“Like what? We might fail the test? Cause I don’t think I need a feeling to tell me that.”

“Shut up,” you complained, feeling the worry roll off your shoulders. “We’re going to make sure you don’t.”

You scooted your chair closer to him and opened up the textbook you had left on the table. “Let’s start with Chapter Nine.”

He leaned in to read next to you and flashed you a grateful smile. You were just about to turn the page when a couple of books slammed onto the table. You flinched at the noise, instinctively moving closer to Liam.

Nolan was standing at the edge of the table, smiling at the four of you. “Hey guys.”

“Hey, Nolan,” Mason said politely.

“Mind if I sit?” Nolan asked.

Liam opened his mouth to protest, but Nolan was already pulling a fifth chair up to the table.

Corey glanced over and met your eyes. He had seen you talking to Nolan in the stacks, and by the way his eyebrows were raised you knew he was wondering if you had invited him over. You shook your head.

Mason cleared his throat. “Studying for the bio test?”

“Trying,” Nolan said with a strange grin, sitting down next to you. “Trying to understand how organisms evolve and change.”

“I don’t think this is on the test,” Corey said hesitantly.

Nolan’s lips twitched, and he clicked the pen in his hands, over and over. He glanced around the table. “Do you think DNA changes?”

“If it’s damaged,” Mason told him.

“I wonder if any of us have changed,” Nolan wondered aloud. “And if we did...would there be any way to tell?”

“Like a DNA test?”.

Nolan smiled as he turned the pen over in his hands. “I was thinking a different type of test.”

Liam stood up suddenly.

“You know what, Nolan? This is a private study group. Get lost.”

Nolan nodded, seeming to understand. He pushed himself up from the table, flashing you a warm smile. For a second, it seemed like he was going to leave. Then, looking right into your eyes, he stabbed his pen into Corey’s hand.

You let out a shriek, and Corey cried out as blood splashed onto the table. Now it was glistening on the wood and your textbook.

“What the hell is your problem?” Mason demanded, but Nolan wasn’t phased.

He reached forward, jerking Corey’s hand up and holding it high for everyone in the library to see. The hole that should have been there was gone, like it had completely healed.

“Look at him!” he snarled at you. “Look at him!”

The entire library was staring. Kids looked up from their textbooks and phones to find a sight that confused and terrified them. What they didn’t know, and what you didn’t know, was that this was only the beginning.

In seconds, Liam had shoved Nolan off of Corey, knocking him to the floor of the library. “Get the hell away from us. Now.”

Nolan glared at Liam, shoving himself up from the ground. He snatched his books from the table and glanced toward you. “See what I’m talking about?”

Then he stormed off, shoving the library doors open and disappearing into the darkened hallway.

When you looked back, Corey, Liam, and Mason were all eyeing you carefully, as if you were an animal that might bite. You glanced at Corey’s completely healed hand, and you made a decision that would define everything that came after that night.

“Nolan is nuts,” you said firmly. “Let’s go study at my house.”

Their shoulders seemed to slump in relief, and Liam reached out to squeeze your hand.

You met his baby blue eyes, and a look of understanding passed between the two of you. What you had seen didn’t matter. These were your friends, and nothing could scare you away from them.

-----

It only took a few days for things to escalate to the unthinkable. Suddenly everyone was afraid of your friends.

You didn’t understand it. There had only been about ten other people in the library that night. Word shouldn’t have traveled that fast, and even if it had, what was there to be afraid of?

If Corey could suddenly heal from his injuries, that should have been a miracle. Unfortunately, not everyone thought that.

When the three of you had walked into school that Monday, all people had done was stare or shy away from you and your friends. You couldn’t hear the whispers, but Liam seemed to be able to. He looked pained as you stood in front of your lockers.

“Just block it out,” Mason assured him.

“They know,” Liam whispered nervously.

“It’s just rumors. They don’t know anything.”

You looked between the two of them. You didn’t know anything either, but you could at least tell that Liam and Corey were different. For some people, that was enough to be upset about.

Before you could interject, someone else did.

“They know everything,” Corey told them, coming up from the hallway behind you. “Two sophomores on the lacrosse team were there last night.”

Mason shook his head, still trying to convince Liam, and maybe himself, that things were okay. “Yeah, but it was late. It was pitch-black out, and there was fog on the road.”

Corey frowned. “It was a clear night, a full moon, and a well lit intersection.”

“Look, I have to get out of here,” Liam hissed.

“No,” Mason insisted. “If you leave, these rumors never stop. You gotta just convince them that you’re a regular kid.”

“I’m not a regular kid.”

You blinked, looking between them. “Wait, what happened last night?”

The three of them shared a glance. No one said anything.

“Look, you can tell me. I already saw what happened in the library. I don’t care.”

Liam and Corey hesitated, but Mason spoke up. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

“Mason,” Corey hissed.

“Come on, she already has all the pieces. She just hasn’t put them together yet. It’s safer for her to know the whole story.”

Corey didn’t look convinced. He was eyeing you carefully with his arms crossed over his chest. Defensive.

“You’re right,” Liam told Mason, but when you looked into his eyes, he looked scared.

“Can you come with us?” Mason asked you.

You nodded and they led you away from the main hallway. You followed them into a quiet chemistry lab, where they locked the door behind them. There, they explained everything.

Finding out that Liam and Corey were both supernatural creatures was a lot to take in. If there was nothing else going on, you might have needed more time to process everything. However, the news that a group of werewolf hunters was targeting and killing your friends seemed to override the shock.

They explained that wasn’t their only problem, because after Liam had shifted in front of half the town last night, everyone, including the kids at your high school, seemed to know that he wasn’t human.

“So,” you finally said. “What do we do?”

“Good question,” Liam said. “Cause I have no idea.”

“Remember what Scott said?” Mason asked him.

Scott was the assistant coach for the lacrosse team, but he was only a couple years older than you. He hung out with you guys a lot, and he always seemed like a sweet, caring guy. You guessed he was probably in on the secret too.

“He said ‘Be like Clark Kent’.”

Liam looked exasperated. “Clark Kent turns into a guy with a red and blue outfit and a cape. I turn into a monster with claws and fangs.”

“Then just get through the day without shifting,” Corey told him.

“Liam,” Mason said softly. “People are saying that Brett and Lori died in a car accident. We know the truth. They didn’t just die.”

You sucked in a breath. “They were murdered?”

Liam’s face softened. “The people who are after us are dangerous, Y/n. They’ll kill us, and anyone else that gets in the way. That means you too.”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. “You guys are my best friends. I’m not just gonna run and hide, especially if I can help.”

You reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it. His lips turned up at the corners, if only for a moment.

“Then you’re with us now.”

You all agreed that Liam would try to keep cool. The rest of you would try to listen out for anything that might suggest someone was coming after him. Mason and Corey left the chemistry lab to head to their first period classes, leaving you and Liam alone together.

You were both supposed to head to your own classes, but you lingered for a moment.

“So...you’re not afraid?” he asked sheepishly.

You shook your head. “Liam, I know who you are. Having claws and fangs doesn’t change that, even if it’s a little weird.”

He smiled. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you can eat the people that piss me off on a full moon.”

Liam frowned. “Werewolves don’t eat people on full moons.”

“So what do they do?”

“Exactly what we’ve been doing every full moon for the past two years. Eating junk food and playing video games.”

You thought for a moment. “And you have super reflexes?”

He nodded. “Yeah, basically.

“So why do you suck so bad at COD then?”

Liam rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. He was relieved you were still treating him the way you always had. Telling you about the supernatural was always something he had wanted to do. You were one of his best friends, and he had always felt wrong hiding it from you.

He had thought about admitting his secret countless times before, but something had always stopped him. What you didn’t know was that Liam had always thought of you as more than a friend. He was pretty sure you felt the same way, but he had never asked you out.

Scott had questioned him about it once on the way home from a pack movie night. They had dropped you off at home, and as he pulled away from the curb in his mom’s sedan, he was looking at Liam with a smile on his face.

“What?” Liam had asked.

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

Liam flushed. Scott grinned at him. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since Hayden.”

“I don’t know,” Liam said.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “She likes you too. You can’t tell?”

“I know she does. It’s just...with everything going on, I don’t want to drag her into this.”

Scott nodded. “I get it...but you can’t spend your whole life doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Sacrificing your happiness to keep people safe. Even when you do that, they’re never really safe.”

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbled, glancing out the window into the darkness.

“I had to learn that the hard way,” Scott had told him. “But maybe you do too.”

Now, as he stood across from you, he didn’t want to leave the chemistry lab. He wanted to hide in there with you for as long as he could and tell you everything, including how he felt about you. Before he could get the chance, you spoke.

“Come on,” you said, nodding toward the hallway. “Let’s make sure you stay alive so I can beat your ass again this weekend.”

He had missed his moment, but he smiled at you anyway. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Duh.”

You looped your arm through his and headed out into the hall, ignoring the stares and fearful looks the entire way.

------

You met up again in biology class, which you all had together. When you sat down at the table next to Liam, he pulled you close to whisper in your ear.

Your heart skipped when he placed his hand on your arm, but he was too agitated to notice.

“Nolan and Gabe are going to try to force me to shift. Corey said they’re going to block all the exits.”

You frowned. “Then we have to find a way to sneak you out.”

You glanced behind you, where Corey and Mason were sharing a table.

“We’ve got a plan for that."

Mason explained that Corey could make himself and Liam invisible. They would sneak out down the halls and hopefully find an exit that wasn’t guarded by lacrosse players.

When the bell finally rang, the four of you headed out of class. Corey and Liam slipped behind a pillar and disappeared into thin air. You and Mason led the way as they shuffled behind you, completely unseen.

The four of you hurried through the school, but every exit you passed was blocked by an angry-looking lacrosse player.

“What do we do?” you muttered to Mason.

“Just keep going.”

You turned down another hallway, only to run right into Nolan. He was standing in the middle of the hallway with a few other lacrosse players. Gabe was right behind him. You and Mason stopped short at the sight.

“Hey guys,” Nolan said. His tone was casual, but there was no friendliness in his eyes.

Before you could attempt to go around him or the others, he stepped in front of you. His hands were curled tightly into fists.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

“You should leave, Y/n. You shouldn’t get in the middle of all this. You’ll get hurt.”

You frowned. “Nolan, please.”

His gaze softened. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but then he simply opened his hand and blew a handful of white powder at you. The smell of flour drifted through the air as you and Mason were dusted. You felt terror grip you as you realized that Corey and Liam were covered too, making them suddenly visible.

You turned in horror, but before you could make a move, Gabe darted forward and threw Liam to the floor. Both Gabe and Nolan hauled him up, dragging him down the empty hall and into a deserted classroom. The other lacrosse players didn’t bother to grab you or Mason. Instead, they flooded into the classroom behind the others.

Some students passing by followed suit, eager to watch the fight they sensed was about to happen.

“Wait here,” Mason told you, darting after them.

He shoved his way into the classroom, ready to come to Liam’s rescue, but he was immediately grabbed by two lacrosse players. You frantically looked around for Corey, but he had disappeared again. You only hoped he was hiding somewhere safe, just in case they were planning on coming for him next.

With Corey nowhere to be found, you shouldered your way into the classroom, but you were trapped behind the sea of kids trying to catch the action.

You watched in horror as Nolan landed a punch to Liam’s face, causing blood to run from his nose. They shoved him to the ground, kicking and punching him. Every time Liam seemed to be close to snapping, he seemed to hold himself back. You were relieved, but you also weren’t sure how long he could keep that up.

“You’re fighting it!” you heard Nolan snap.

Your blood boiled. You were sick to your stomach with both rage and terror. Liam was getting his ass handed to him. He couldn’t even fight back.

You watched as Gabe snatched a tuft of Liam’s brown hair. He yanked him up from the classroom floor, only to slam his knee into Liam’s face. You flinched.

“What is going on here?!”

Suddenly the clicking of heels sounded from down the hallway. Mrs Finch was striding over, and the crowd of kids parted for her. Instead of looking angry, she just seemed scared as she realized what was happening.

“Do something!” Mason pleaded, but Mrs. Finch just held up her hands, as if she were surrendering.

“Sometimes it’s best to let them work things out on their own,” she told him, before turning back down the hall.

Kids stared in shock, dumbfounded at her response. You took the opportunity to shove your way into the space she had left in the crowd. As you got closer, you saw that Liam was lying on his back. Blood was streaming from his nose, his mouth, and various other cuts on his face.

Gabe was kneeling over him, punching him over and over. He raised his arm to land another blow, and that was when you moved forward. You had no idea what had gotten into you, but you couldn’t watch another second of Liam’s suffering.

Gabe grunted in surprise as you knocked him to the ground. The two of you spilled onto the tiled floor, but he quickly recovered. He yanked your head back by your hair, causing you to cry out.

Before you could register what was happening, pain was shooting through your skull. He had punched you so hard that it left you lying on the floor, dazed and seeing white for a few seconds.

“Gabe-” Nolan began to say, but he was cut off. “Is this what’s gonna do it, Liam?” Gabe demanded, pulling you off the floor by your hair. “Maybe you won’t change if we beat your ass, but what about hers?”

Tears were streaming down your face, blurring your vision. You could still see Liam's eyes glowing yellow though. As much as it hurt, you weren’t willing to be the reason he shifted in front of everyone.

“Liam,” you begged. “Don’t.”

You could taste your own blood on your lips. Judging by the look on Liam’s face, you probably looked terrible, even from the single punch. You knew they were going to do much worse.

Gabe balled his hand into a fist once more, and you closed your eyes, bracing for the next punch.

“What the hell is going on?! Back off!”

Suddenly, Gabe was ripped off of you by the back of his shirt. His fingers uncurled from your hair, and you dropped to the ground on your hands and knees.

“Get to the Principal's office now!” Coach Finstock was screaming.

He had Gabe and Nolan by their shirts, and he practically tossed them out the door and into the hallway. He looked absolutely livid. You had never seen Coach so angry. He gazed out at the crowd of students around you.

“What the hell is this?” He demanded. “Get out, all of you! I can’t stand to look at your faces!”

The crowd dispersed, and Mason was let go. You scrambled over to Liam, who was still on his back. He was taking short, gasping breaths and his face was covered in his own blood, but he looked relieved. He coughed as the four of you, including Corey, who had reappeared, helped him off the ground. One of his arms was slung over your shoulder, and the other was slung over Mason’s.

Mason stared at him in awe. “I can’t believe you did that...and Y/n, I can’t believe you just tackled Gabe. That was insane.”

Liam nodded, looking between the three of you. “Clark Kent, right?” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Mason breathed. “Clark Kent.”

Liam glanced over at you. He felt a lump in his throat when he saw the state of your face. There was a small gash on your cheek from where Gabe had punched you. A trickle of blood was making its way down to your jaw, and your lip was split open. The worst part was the bruising. The blood could be cleaned up, but the bruise that was beginning to form would be there for a while. That side of your face was also beginning to swell.

His blood was boiling. He wanted to tear Gabe and Nolan apart. In that moment, he didn’t care who saw. Then you spoke.

“Liam,” you said softly. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You squeezed his hand. The feel of your fingers wrapped around his seemed to ground him. The tension melted from his shoulders.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

------

“God, I have no idea how I’m going to explain what happened to your parents.”

You looked over at Liam from the passenger seat of his Toyota. He had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. You raised your eyebrows.

“Why do you have to explain?”

“Because I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to protect you...and everything that happened is my fault anyway.”

You lifted the bag of frozen peas that Coach had given you off your cheek. He had assured you it would bring down the swelling, but you were skeptical. You pulled down the visor in front of you and glanced at your wounded face in the mirror.

Mason had cleaned the blood off with the lacrosse team first aid kit, but there was a visible gash where Gabe’s knuckles had connected with your cheekbone. The bruise, now a deep blue-ish purple, spread out across your cheek. Your lip was also busted and there was no way you’d be able to hide it.

“It’s not your fault. I’ll just tell my parents the truth. Someone was getting their ass kicked and I stepped in to stop them. Well, I tried anyway.”

“Okay, now you’re kind of making me sound like a little bitch.”

You shrugged, and you and Liam both burst out laughing. The movement in your face caused you to wince and Liam’s expression darkened.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I feel like I do.”

“You don’t,” you assured him. “Liam, none of this was your fault. It’s the hunters and Nolan, and that fucking psycho Gabe. Plus, I’m the one who tackled him…”

He didn’t answer right away. He was anxiously chewing on his lip, staring out the windshield.

“Liam?”

“I think you need to leave town.”

You balked at him. “What? No way!”

“Gabe could have done a lot worse to you. Now he knows you’re involved. Staying here could get you killed. You and Mason both.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” you demanded. “Just run away?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what you should do. I can’t protect you, Y/n. I can’t protect anyone.”

“I can protect myself-”

“No you can’t!” he snapped. “Look at your face!”

You flinched back at his sharp tone. Wordlessly, you turned away, slouching down in your seat to stare out the window. Maybe he was right, but his words had touched a nerve.

Liam wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he was terrified. If he couldn’t even protect you from Gabe, how was he supposed to protect you from trained hunters?

“Y/n...I’m sorry. I’m not saying you’re not strong. I just…I can’t lose you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you looked back over at him.

“Even if you can’t protect me, why would I leave you? If someone’s trying to kill you, I want to help. Even if it means getting hurt...even if it means dying. I can’t just leave.”

“I can’t be the reason something happens to you,” Liam protested.

“You wouldn’t be,” you pointed out. “If these people are coming after you, that’s them. Not you.”

He shook his head and you could tell he was trying to work something out inside his head. He was about to turn down the street to Scott’s neighborhood, but he hesitated for a moment. You were both supposed to be at a pack meeting, but now he was having second thoughts about bringing you.

“Maybe I should just take you home. I promise I’ll come and get you as soon as this is over,” he swore.

“I can’t just leave you.”

“You can,” he insisted, pulling up to the nearest curb. Scott’s house was still a few blocks away.

“If you want me to leave you, you’re gonna have to pick me up and carry me kicking and screaming out of town,” you told him stubbornly.

“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll throw you over my shoulder. I don’t care.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!” he shouted. “You don’t realize how much danger you’re in.”

“You’re Clark Kent, right?” you demanded. “What if I’m Lois Lane then? I don’t remember her ever running away.”

He opened his mouth to protest. This wasn’t a comic book. It was real life, and you could die. But as you stared at him defiantly, he realized you already knew that.

Asking you to leave him would have been like asking him to leave Scott and the others.

“Fine,” he said.

He put the car back into drive and pulled away from the curb. You drove in silence for a couple minutes, until he pulled into a driveway you presumed was Scott’s. There were several other cars out front. You recognized Stiles’ rickety, blue jeep right away, along with Lydia’s Martin’s Toyota and Scott’s motorcycle.

“Promise me you’ll just think about leaving?” he asked. “Just think about it.”

“Fine,” you told him.

Liam eyed you. “You’re lying.”

“So you can read minds now too?” you demanded.

“Your heart skips when you lie. I can hear it.”

He slammed the door behind him, but came around to open yours for you nonetheless. You could tell he was pissed at you for saying you wouldn’t leave, but he would do the exact same thing and you knew it.

As you followed Liam into the house, you saw a group of people clustered around the coffee table, examining a map. You recognized Scott, his mom, Malia, Lydia and two other men you didn’t know. One was tall with dark hair, and he was wearing a suit. There was an FBI badge hanging from his neck. The other was shorter, with piercing blue eyes.

“...no one can leave,” the taller one was saying. “Gerard’s distributed all of his weapons throughout Beacon Hills, to anyone who wants them.”

The shorter one looked grim. “He’s arming his army.”

You turned toward Liam, wanting to ask what they were talking about. Before they could, Lydia, who had been staring vacantly out the window, yelled “Get down!”

She pulled Mason to the floor just as two arrows flew through the glass windows at the front of the house, shattering them. A bright flash spread across the room, blinding you just after you saw Malia shove Scott down. Liam tackled you to the floor, covering his body with yours.

Gunfire echoed across the room, and you felt a sharp, stinging pain in your side. You cried out, and Liam pressed himself harder on top of you. You closed your eyes, terrified of what would happen next.

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. You glanced up, and saw the taller man, who you now realized bore a striking resemblance to Scott, stand up. He must have been his father, you realized, as he drew his weapon from a holster on his side.

Liam pushed himself up, but when he did, he realized there was blood soaking through his t-shirt. When he felt for a wound, he realized it wasn’t his blood, but yours.

You were lying below him, and a pool of dark, red blood was staining your right side, soaking into your shirt and your jeans.

“Liam, what happened?” you whispered. Your voice was soft and scared.

“No!” he shouted, looking around frantically for the others.

But Mason and Melissa were both unconscious on the floor, lying in their own pools of blood, which were slowly widening on the floor. Lydia was bleeding, but awake, and she was using a hand to prop herself up using the coffee table. Scott’s dad was groaning in pain, one hand holding pressure over his bloody arm.

Everyone was hurt. Everyone needed help.

When Liam looked back down at you, your eyes were closed. Your breathing was growing shallow, and he resisted the urge to scream. He reached down, frantically pressing both hands over your bleeding side.

“Scott!” he cried. “What do we do?”

The alpha, riddled with bullet holes himself, struggled to his feet.

“I don’t know.”

------

“You doing okay?”

Liam looked up at the sound of Scott’s voice. The older boy was looking down at him sympathetically, and Liam felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Not really.”

“Mind if I sit?” Scott asked.

“Sure,” Liam said, looking back down at the floor.

The flimsy chair next to him groaned as Scott sat down. He had two plastic-wrapped breakfast bagels in his hands, one of which he held out to Liam.

“No thanks.”

“Come on, you haven’t eaten since last night.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.” He set the bagels on the side table next to them. “You know the nurse said she was awake. You don’t wanna go see her?”

Liam was silent. His mouth was pressed into a grim line.

“Liam,” Scott said softly. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I brought her to your house,” he grumbled. “I was trying to get her to leave town, but she wouldn’t. So I agreed that I wouldn’t make her.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “God, I should have just dragged her out of town myself.”

“She’ll be okay,” Scott reminded him. “The bullet didn’t hit anything important.”

“Yeah, and it’s a miracle it didn’t. I could have gotten her killed, Scott.”

Scott reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Liam, look at me.”

Finally, he did. His blue eyes met Scott’s brown ones, and he felt himself tearing up, though he hated himself for it. He had forced himself not to cry all night, afraid that once he did, he would completely break down.

But now, as the tears slipped down his cheeks, he couldn’t stop them. “It’s my fault she got hurt, Scott. This is what I was afraid of, and it happened.”

“None of this is your fault.”

Scott leaned over and brought Liam into a tight hug. “Remember when I told you that sacrificing your happiness doesn’t always keep people safe?”

Liam nodded.

“You couldn’t have stopped this. Whoever was shooting at us was going to do it regardless. Who’s to say they wouldn’t have gone after her when you weren’t with her?”

“I could have made her leave town though.”

“No you couldn’t have. Making her leave you would have been like making you leave us. You never would have done it.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Scott smiled and pulled away from the younger boy. “I know I’m right. I’ve been doing this for a while, remember? I know you feel like you’re responsible, but you’re not. She made her choice, and it was the exact same one you would have made.”

Liam nodded.

“I think you’re perfect for each other, actually,” Scott continued. “You’re both stubborn as hell.”

“Yeah,” Liam said with a soft laugh. “We are.”

“Go see her. I’m sure you guys have a lot to talk about.”

Liam nodded and rose to his feet. “Thanks.”

Scott smiled in response, and Liam headed down the hall to your room. The nurse had given him the number a few hours ago, but he was afraid to visit you. He knew you wouldn’t be mad at him, but it was his own guilt he hadn’t been able to get past. Now he knew he couldn’t control what happened to you, and it wasn’t fair to punish you by staying away.

He knocked on the wooden door, and heard your soft voice say “Come in.”

When he pushed it open, you were lying there, propped up against the pillows. You smiled when he entered, and he felt relief rush through him. Even in a hospital gown, you still looked beautiful.

He strode forward and leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face in his shoulder, hugging him back.

“I was worried you weren’t going to show,” you admitted.

Liam flushed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should come.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you told him. “I knew you’d feel like it was. That’s why I told Scott to go talk to you.”

He balked at you. “You...you told Scott to come talk to me?”

You nodded. “He came in to check on me once my parents left to eat. When you weren’t with him, I figured you’d be beating yourself up about it.”

Scott had been right. You really were perfect for each other.

“You’re still in this mess because of me.”

“Yeah, but I made the choice to stay. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing?”

He sighed and lowered himself down into the chair next to your bed. “No, I would’ve.”

“Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” you admitted. “I could never have left you, Liam. I know you wanted me to go, but if I’m gonna die, I’d rather do it with you. I love you too much to run away.”

He reached out, placing his hand over yours. “It wasn’t like I wanted to be away from you. I just thought that you would be safer. I was afraid of...well, this.”

He gestured to you, lying in the hospital bed.

“Oh come on,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I’m fine. Plus, I’m gonna have a kickass scar. It’ll be just like a video game.”

You reached down and pulled up your hospital gown, revealing the gauze over your side. “I’m gonna look like a total badass.”

Liam grinned. “You already are a total badass.”

You smiled up at him, and he felt his heart skip. Without hesitating any longer, he leaned in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Being gentle wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but your bottom lip was still busted from when Gabe had punched you.

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling back to look down at your face. “And whatever happens, I want you by my side.”

You nodded. “Me too.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you shifted to the other side of the hospital bed. You patted the space beside you.

“Are we allowed to do that?” he asked.

“I just got shot,” you complained. “I should be able to do whatever I want.”

Without another thought, Liam crawled up beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close so that your side was pressed against his. You snuggled into him, and for the first time in months, he felt like everything would be okay.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #Teen Wolf Ships #liam dunbar #liam dunbar imagines #selfignitingimagines

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knullanon · 3 years

Text

invincible bullshit that i came up with 10 days ago i just forgot about it

ngaoevnbiaebiw its here @anxiousnerdwritings i hope you like it i got inspired by you to write this

words: 2196

warnings: past arguing, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ENTIRE SEASON 1, shooting, arguing, past manipulation

“Reports of who killed the Guardians of the globe are starting to surface, with our agents finding out about the supposed killer: we know they spared Omni-Man, killed the rest of the members, and then fled. We also know they are not from earth. Lots of people have speculated that Omni-Man is the one behind these killings, however, the government has ruled out that being a possibility, since there was no evidence of Omni-Man doing these actions. More at 7 tonight on-”

The program stopped playing as you saw a contact appear on the top of the screen, and reading it, you immediately perked up.

Swiping on the green button, you happily said, “Hey, Dad! What’cha need?”

You heard a chuckle from the other end, before he said, “Hey kiddo, how you holding up?”

“Nothing much going on here, you good over there?”

“Yup, mostly everything is fine. You know my work, they always have something for me to do.”

“Hopefully that clears up soon.”

“Yeah, hey, listen, where are you right now?”

Ugh, not this again. Your mood slightly dropped as you remembered a few years ago, when you first met Cecil. He wasn’t as good as he is now, and he would always be asking where you would be. Even in school. However, that was all in the past, since you were older, he now knew that you were responsible enough to do things on your own. At least, that’s what he wanted you to believe.

“Uh, well, I was just gonna go hang out with some friends and then go back home. Why?”

“Ok, listen to me very carefully: one of my guys is gonna pick you up near Bridgetown, ok? You’re gonna get a bracelet from them and then I’ll explain the rest here.”

What the fuck? “Oh, um, ok, when will they be there?”

“About 5 minutes. Be there soon, love you, bye.”

He hung up the phone quickly, which was extremely rare, even for him, since he would never show his love to you out publicly and you would feel weird if he even did. However, on the phone or in private he was a completely different person, having a great personality and he was an even better dad.

Well, he did say to hurry up, and 5 minutes. You checked the time and when you saw it was near 1. You strided your way towards the street he told you to meet on, and cheerfully thought of the ways to hang out with your friends after whatever he wanted to do. Maybe you could go to the mall? Maybe the food court? You’ve been meaning to try those damn milkshakes at that new bar everyone is talking about, but it was always so crowded. You never liked crowded places in the first place.

Suddenly, your phone rang again. This time, when you checked, it was your dad again. Strange. It was weird for him to call you twice in a row. He usually got to the point within a few sentences.

Picking up the phone, you said, “Hey dad-”

“________, listen to me. Get to someplace safe now. Get out of the road. Get out of the public. I don't care if you have to go inside someone else’s house, just get out of sight.”

Stopping in the middle of the road you let out some surprised stutters. “Wh- Dad, what are you talking about?”

“_______, please, just listen to me when I say this, you are in danger and you need to get out of there.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

You were shuffling around trying to find a good place to “hide” while your dad went into complete panic mode in his voice. “_______, find a place to hide, and whatever you do, get out of open space.”

You heard him speak to someone off the phone, before he cursed out loud. “I have to call you back, but someone will be there, wherever you are, ok? I… I love you.”

Before you could answer him, he hung up the phone. Anxiety was the only thing you could feel, as you looked around the desolate neighborhood. There was a reason why you chose this area over others: it was quiet and small. Not only that, but the only people who walked this way were people who were not fond of bigger crowds. In fact, you haven’t seen anyone go this way for a long time. You always wondered why, since it was the perfect way to get robbed. Of course, that would never happen, especially with all those lessons from your dad about self defense.

The street you were on had walls surrounding the sidewalk to prevent people from going into people's backyards, probably. They were too high up to climb, and they were concrete, so it wouldn’t be easy to just hop over and call it a day.

However, you were almost at the end of the street, and you knew there was a little patch of bushes and leaves that would provide the perfect cover. They were almost as tall as your dad, which always made you wonder who was watering them to be that big.

Pacing quickly towards the end of the street, and seeing no one in sight made you let out a sigh of relief. Either dad was overeating or something bad was happening, and you don’t know which would be worse. When Cec- dad overrated, it always got messy, no matter what it was about.

“Why were you out so long? I was about to send a team after you-”

“Cecil, it’s fine, I just had to talk to my-”

“Don’t call me Cecil, and don’t try to make excuses, tell me who you were with right now or I swear to god-”

You forgot the memory almost as soon as it came up, instead choosing to focus on getting to the brush where you could hide until C- Dad came to pick you up. Wherever he was. Actually, did he give you a time that he would be there?

You got a weird feeling that made you sprint towards the bushes and dive in, like there was someone behind you. You ignored it and forced your way on all fours, ignoring the cuts and scratches you were getting on your arms and legs.

There was almost a whooshing sound above you, and you wondered if your dad sent a fucking jet to get you. But that thought left your mind when you heard it right next to you, along with the sound of someone making a harsh landing onto the street. You were able to hear the little bits and pieces of concrete fly off the ground to hit the ground again.

You stayed completely still, leaning on your arms while your body was facing the street. You heard something shuffle, like moving fabric around, before a familiar voice hit your ears.

“Who’s there?” they- he said, and you were about to cry out of relief when you heard it. “Omni-Man?”

~~~~~

“Cecil, why do you think Nolan would go after ________?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Cecil didn’t look at Debbie, instead focusing on the map in front of him, wondering where Mark could’ve been.

“What reason would he have to go after them? I just- he wouldn’t just attack a child, would he?”

Cecil felt his head start to hurt. Goddamnit, why did Nolan want to go after you? You had nothing to do with anything, besides being Cecil’s daughter. … is that why he was after you? Just because you were related to Cecil?

No, Nolan wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t his biological daughter, Nolan knew Cecil took you from somewhere.

He probably thought you were just someone that he got for fun, which was the furthest from the truth. Cecil didn’t-

“Sir, we’ve found Mark Grayson, along with your daughter, not at the same locations, but-”

“Where is she?” Cecil didn’t try to hide his worry in his voice. It didn’t exactly help when the agent said, in a monotone voice, “She's with Omni-Man, sir.”

~~~~~

“________? What are you doing here?”

Peeking out from the bush, you saw Omni-Man walk up towards you and hold out his hand. You graciously took it, and helped yourself up. Even when you were standing at your full height, Omni-Man was way taller than you. Like, way taller. He could beat your dad within an inch of his life even with all of that combat stuff he learned over the years.

Of course he could, he’s Omni-Man dumbass. Ignoring the thought, you answered, “I’m, uh, busy.”

You saw him give a small smile. “You’re busy hiding in the bushes?”

“Yes.” you cursed internally for answering that so quickly like an idiot. You weren’t expecting him to let out a laugh. He continued while you stood there, confused as all hell.

Finally, he said, “You know, you’re a terrible liar.” You laughed along with him for a moment, before saying, “Yeah, I know.”

His face suddenly darkened, before he said, “So, why are you out here?”

The laughter in the air was gone now, only replaced by crushing silence as he waited for your answer. You felt yourself shrink under his scrutinizing gaze. He looked like he was judging you for just standing there. Well, he could’ve also been judging you because you were in a bush just 10 seconds earlier. After a few more seconds, you broke.

“C- Dad said to hide somewhere.”

“Aren’t you too old to be playing those games?”

“Yeah, I am, but apparently someone was gonna come and get me. He just said to get out of open space.”

You heard him mutter something under his breath, before he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, I can see why he would want that.”

“Really? Why?”

“A mob boss named Machine Head.” When you gave him a confused look, he elaborated, “Machine head was a guy who took down the new Guardians of the Globe along with… Mark. They thought they got him, but unfortunately they weren’t able to kill him.”

“How does that have anything with me?”

“... You’re Cecil’s daughter. Cecil was the one who found out about Machine Head. And took him down. Machine Head wants revenge against Cecil for ruining his plans, so he’s probably going to take it out on you.” When you still gave a surprised stare, he asked, “Do you really not have this happen often?”

“No, Dad keeps me inside alot…” your voice trailed off when you heard your phone ring, and picking it up, you saw it was your dad.

“Hello?”

“_________, I told you to get to somewhere safe!”

“I-I am! I’m with Nolan!”

“Hey, Cecil, don’t worry, I’m right here.” Nolan’s voice was filled with sarcasm, probably an old joke between the two. After all, they were both good friends to each other.

“No, you don’t understand, ______, listen to me-”

Suddenly you were grabbed by your arm, and dragged down. You were caught by Omni-Man before you hit the ground, though. Looking behind him, you saw two trucks coming towards you, along with multiple people in them, with weapons of all sorts.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or what they wanted, as Omni-Man grabbed you and pulled out off the ground, and into the air. It took you a few moments, but you realized you were in the air. Flying.

Reaching for your phone in your pocket to call your dad back, you realized you must’ve dropped it. However, you weren’t about to waste your energy trying to get it back. Especially not when you were high above the ground. So you simply hung on for dear life as Omni-Man flew away from the shouting people in the cars.

~~~~~

“Where is she?”

“She went with Omni-Man, sir.”

Cecil stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck happened. It was obvious now that Nolan had no intentions to harm you, but why would he take you and not tell you anything? Cecil wondered before something was handed to him. “We found this near where they took off, sir.”

It was your phone. Completely crushed to bits. “Omni-Man took it from her and crushed it without her knowledge, sir.”

“You started to shoot at her?! What the hell were you thinking!?”

The men stood there, completely still realizing their mistake. “We’re not kids playing at some game, this is real life. And now- I-” he really wanted to kill Nolan now. Debbie was going to become a widow, and he really didn’t care.

Walking up to the truck that was nearest to him, he opened the back and shuffled around, trying to find something, anything that would be of use.

Then he found his favorite gun. The only one he could actually hold himself without another person that stopped Omni-man.

Loading the ammunition, he walked over to Donald, who had a tablet in his hand. “Sir, we’ve found where they’re going.”

Looking at the area on the map, Cecil tapped his wrist watch, and said, “Good. Get the backup ready, and get Mark Grayson. Get Invincible.”

#yandere invincible #yandere nolan grayson #yandere cecil stedman #originally i was gonna put the invincible logo at the end but i didn't want to do that much work cuz im tired rn

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cdroloisms · 3 years

Note

Dream thought that he can bring server together, he thought that they can be one big family... Well at least he really bond them, even if they bonded to fight against him. Even if that mean he's not part of this server anymore.

right,, the one big happy family thing always destroys me

bc it’s really the driving force behind everything he’s done, the reason why he’s cut off everything he’s ever loved, moved forwards despite everything he’s ever lost. it doesn’t make what he does right, by any means, but c!dream’s longing for a better past, his clinging to a family he loved and lost - it’s so desperately, painfully human and is very much the cherry on top of his whole tragic story. it’s something that tugs at my heart every time i think about it - especially how in the end, pretty much nobody knew what drove him to the lengths he went to, and how everyone still sees him as being motiveless, or doing it all for personal gain and power. it’s reasonable, with their limited povs, but oh man does it hurt when we know his real reasoning.

this,, ended up weirdly long haha but oh man was it fun. have some dream team angst as i cry abt c!dream for the millionth time

tws: death, grief, off-screen murder, implied mental deterioration

Two weeks after Dream dies, Sapnap asks George if he wants to come to the vault.

He almost says no. It’d be an early journey if they want to get out without anyone seeing, and he’s just- tired. He’s been tired for months even though he spends most of his time sleeping, usually can’t even find the energy to pull himself out of bed. The weird dreams hadn’t helped in the slightest, though they’ve been gone for a few weeks, and he’s not seen XD in a long time, save for a few minutes after he first heard the news. In all honesty, he doesn’t want to deal with the mental strain of anything to do with Dream at all.

But- Sapnap is still his best friend, even if they’ve grown apart ever since that fateful night with Dream, and he still knows the Netherborn better than nearly- well, everyone, now, with Dream gone. As much as Sapnap tried to put on a strong front, Dream’s death had taken its toll.

Killing Dream had taken its toll.

He’d been asleep (again) when it all went down, but he knows that somehow, Dream had escaped prison. Somehow, it ended with Sapnap’s sword stabbed hilt-deep in Dream’s chest, an unmarked grave in the forest behind the Community House that he knows Sapnap visits when he thinks nobody’s watching.

So when Sapnap asks, dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes, if he wants to come with him to see what belongings they can find in Dream’s old blackstone-brick vault- he says yes.

“There,” Sapnap gestures over the crest of a netherrack cliff above a bubbling lava lake, and George strains to look at what the other is pointing at. There, settled over a small outcrop of netherrack and gravel, a messy bridge of various blocks leading from it, lies the signature black and purple silhouette of a nether portal. “It’s just across that.”

George hums in acknowledgement, and they clamber down in sync. It’s been a while since he’s spent time one-on-one with Sapnap like this; George had half-forgotten what it feels like, to work with someone so different and yet know them so well. Years and years of teamwork means they fall in step almost without thinking, Sapnap easily sliding forward to block a skeleton’s arrow while George nocks one of his own to shoot it through the skull. It is a partnership built on years of bickering and banter and deep-set trust, of having to face a stronger, more agile opponent together through wind and rain and snow.

He missed it, though he’ll never admit that to anyone but himself.

He hesitates in front of the nether portal, pulling Sapnap back automatically by his sweater sleeve. “You sure the other side is safe?”

“Yeah, yeah- it should be,” Sapnap pulls his arm away, lets him enter the portal first before stepping into the frame himself. “Not a manhunt.”

“Mm,” George laughs, tired. “Just checking.”

The portal hums, purple creeping into the corners of George’s vision and filling it until it’s all he can see, and he rubs at his eyes to clear his vision as he stumbles out the other side. Sapnap walks out, seeming unfazed - it’s always been something that George has envied in the other, how unaffected he is by portals, but he’s also always had worse portal sickness than most- “We’re here.”

The place is - put lightly, a wreck, wooden planks scattered all over the floor and inch-deep water sloshing around his shoes. “What’s with the water?”

“I don’t know, someone must’ve come here after for something,” Sapnap frowns, points across the room to a chute leading upwards, filled with a crude spiral staircase of oak. “We’re going up there.”

George nods, letting him take the lead. The staircase is rickety, the bottom steps waterlogged; Sapnap grimaces the whole way up, makes some comment under his breath about how unsafe it all is, but they continue without much issue. The top of it is surprisingly unassuming - there’s really nothing around, just a small hollowed out space carpeted by savannah grass, shorn short. Sapnap tosses him a pickaxe.

“He respawned up here, that day - he’s gotta have a bed up here somewhere.” He gestures at the plain stone walls surrounding them, “My guess is that it’s just behind one of these walls. Just mine two or three blocks in all the way across, I’ll start from this side.”

“Whatever, Snapnap,” George takes the pickaxe anyway, walking over to the other side of the room and ignoring the protests Sapnap throws at his back. Mining the stone is simple, methodical; it’s a steady rhythm of the pick hitting stone and blocks falling into his inventory; if he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that they’re in the middle of a manhunt, and Dream has holed himself into the wall as he always does for them to find him. He doesn’t, because thinking about manhunt does nothing but make something cold and choking claw up his throat, almost like guilt, almost like regret, and he doesn’t have the energy for that in the slightest.

His next swing rings oddly hollow, and when the block drops neatly away the wall opens to a narrow corridor. He calls Sapnap over.

“Here.” Sapnap moves with large, heavy strides, face tightening into a foreign expression of grim determination when he catches the darkness behind the one-block hole George mined, “I found it.”

“Well, obviously,” he rolls his eyes as he takes out the bottom block, looking at George from the corner of his eye. “Nice observation, genius.”

“Hey! You told me to find it, and I did, unlike you- you should be thanking me, Sapnap.”

“Whatever, Gogy,” Sapnap sighs, looking into the corridor, feet settling against the ground into a wide stance that George recognizes as the one he’d usually use in a fight. It makes something long-forgotten ache in his chest, joining the dull ball of hurt that has been there for what feels like months, “You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up, will you?” The retort rings hollow, dying on his lips even as he says it, and George watches as Sapnap turns his head away and pretends not to notice.

“Let’s go.”

The hallway is dark, dusty, a hastily made thing as shown by the rough gouges made on either side by a quickly working pickaxe. It opens into a tiny room, similarly carved into the mountain with roughhewn walls of stone; George’s lips thin and press against each other as he takes a closer look at the room, stepping in behind Sapnap.

“This place is a mess,” he states drily, scuffing his foot against the floor and cringing at the trail it leaves in the dust. There’s a bed left in the corner, a thin little thing with the covers thrown off, lying halfway on the floor, and a few chests and furnaces scattered aimlessly against the walls and making the whole thing look more cramped. There are papers strewn over the floor and chests, piles of coal and wood left to collect dust in the corners. It looks like a whirlwind swept through the place, and it’s almost eerie to see this room, completely untouched since the twentieth, a snapshot in time of Dream in the middle of his spiral into madness.

Sapnap kicks at one such pile with a humorless scoff, “That’s an understatement.”

“You looking for anything in particular?” George jabs his thumb at the mess in front of them, “Because I’m not cleaning all of that up.”

“I guess- just look through the chests?” Sapnap’s face darkens visibly even despite the dim lighting, and George stifles the urge to poke fun at how the younger clearly didn’t plan this far ahead, per usual. “Just look for anything useful, worth taking back I guess.”

“Mmhm.” He moves to the left-most chest as Sapnap moves to the right, watching from the corner of his eye as the other strikes up a torch to place in the middle of the room. The lid creaks open, and he rummages through the contents, vaguely surprised when his hand meets row after row of glass bottles. He pulls one out, squints at the contents. “Hey Sapnap, is this a regen?”

Sapnap looks over. “Yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes when George pockets it. “Seriously- you know Sam literally has an automatic potion brewer, right. You can just steal from that instead.”

“Or I could just steal from here,” he closes the lid, moving to the next chest. “That’s just his pots chest. He really stacked up, didn’t he?”

“Well, you know Dream. Always had to plan for the end of the world.” Sapnap closes the chest that he was hunched over, tossing over something in a flash of gold, “Was just his food chest. Don’t know why someone needs eight stacks of gapples, but whatever. We can split the god apples later.”

“Sure,” George nods, distracted as he fiddles with clasp of the next chest. This one, unlike the last, seems more worn over the bottom edge of the lid, the wood almost seeming to bear dents where fingers had pressed into the areas right by the clasp again and again. The lid eases open, and he frowns at the chest’s contents; there’s no rhyme or reason to them at first glance. There’s a half-stack of stone in the top left, a couple pieces of leather thrown in the bottom corner, a low-durability crossbow, unenchanted, that he briefly runs his hands over before throwing it back into the chest. He rummages through it for another second, about to dismiss it as a junk chest, when a well-worn book near the back of the chest catches his eye.

He pulls it towards him with careful hands, breath having caught in his throat. The cover is leather, scuffed and scratched in several places, not bearing the dull shine of a book that’s been signed and preserved magically. It doesn’t seem to be titled, no ink against the usual places on the front cover or spine, but the whole thing looks well-loved, the thread of the spine slightly frayed the leather heavily creased from where the cover had been eased open again and again.

He opens the front cover, and sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Sapnap? I think I found something.”

There, nestled between the front cover and the first page, lays a pile of photographs. Unlike everything else in the room, these are clearly well-loved, well-cared for, the corners are sharp, the surfaces shiny, despite how often they must have been thumbed through and looked at. He plucks the first one off the top of the pile - it’s one that was taken from the inside of the old community house before the floor was replaced with crafting tables, string lights hanging from the ceiling in an impromptu party, Alyssa’s legs dangling from where she’s sitting at the edge of the spiral staircase, Callahan leaning against the wall with a slice of cake held between his hands. Sapnap’s sitting in the middle of the floor across from himself, both of their faces glowing softly in the flickering light - his own face is caught in a grimace, Sapnap bent over himself in laughter- Sapnap walks up behind him, gasps at the sight.

“What are-”

George passes over the photo wordlessly as he moves to the next; there’s Sam, grinning at the camera with a newly tamed Fran by his side, tail a white blur against the green of the grass; Bad, hands clutched around a bucket as he yells at someone off the frame, a salmon head poking slightly out the top; Ponk, sitting proudly in the top branches of his first lemon tree.

His breath catches at the next; it’s dim, the sky a pretty blend of purple-pink from the last remaining dregs of light of a sunset, hovering over the dark edge of the ocean stretching out towards the horizon. They’re sitting in boats, the bottom edges lit softly from the coral sitting in the shallow waters below them, brilliant halos of reds and pinks and yellows and oranges and blues dotted with the soft lights of sea pickles painting the wood in muted rainbows. Sapnap’s smiling from one in the back, head tipped to the side cheekily, right hand lifted in a cocky two-fingered salute. George is sitting in the back of a boat in the foreground, glasses lifted to his forehead, eyes mid-roll even as he grins obligingly at the camera-

And then, in the front, there’s Dream.

His mask is pulled to the side of his face, exposing his freckled skin and brilliant green eyes; he’s smiling widely, all teeth, hair wet and sticking up in a ring of untamed swirls and spikes. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, cheeks red, arm stretched forward off-frame from where he’d held the camera in front of them to take the selfie. George’s thumb brushes over the photo, pressing lightly against the dusty mess of hair framing Dream’s face, pausing at the sight of his pure, unadulterated joy.

What had happened to them?

A soft, choked sound comes from behind him, and George tucks the photos away, pressing them between two random pages in the book. His eyes flicker to the book’s contents, finally, finding Dream’s familiar, looping scrawl written on the first page. The words are big and messy, all capitalized and underlined several times, the last four circled roughly.

REMEMBER WHY YOU’RE DOING THIS: ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY.

He snaps the book shut.

“George-”

“Let’s go home, Sapnap.” He throws one last look at the room, at the messy, desperate edges, the remnants of a man lost in his own reckless belief that he could build something beautiful out of blood and ash. He swallows, blinks back the image of a brilliant smile, freckled cheeks ruddy with laughter, at the golden glow of memories long-forgotten that threaten now to burn him with their warmth. He can imagine Dream, settled in the middle of this mess, pressing himself closer to the fire contained in these photographs, these memories, and not realizing how he’s being burned, can nearly see a ghost of him tucked in these shadowed corners, haunting the hopes that he had clung to against all reason with the promise that it could all be worth it.

Sapnap frowns at him tiredly, photos pressed against his own chest. “George,” he says, cautious, and George’s shoulders hunch defensively.

“Let’s go home,” he stands up, hearing more than seeing as Sapnap does the same. “Whatever closure you’re looking for- you’re not finding it here.”

#tw death #tw grief #tw murder #tw mental deterioration #queue <3 #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

Text

Speak Easy Part 18

Dabi x Reader, Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4276

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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It’d been a little over a week since Shoto promised to go to the doctor with you and you were getting a little nervous. At first you were just waiting for the doctors to get settled in, but then Shoto was busy helping get things up and running and evacuating people to the bunker. Now you’ve just been chickening out.

Your period was a few days late, which wouldn’t be concerning if it weren’t for your current circumstance.

You woke up this morning and made a cup of coffee before taking Bravo out for a stroll around the bunker. He loved being able to run around and meet new people. He was a hit with the kids. They loved playing with him almost as much as he loved playing with them. The only downside was, there was only two places in the entire massive bunker that he could go to the bathroom. The farm and a small animal relief area near where the trash is dumped.

Needless to say, neither smelled great, but the farm was considerably better. So here you were, sitting on a small platform that oversees the crops with a cup of coffee and a book. Bravo sitting next to you keeping watch.

It was always a little chilly down here, which you honestly preferred. It just meant you could wear lots of hoodies. The more you could hide your body the better. Ever since leaving Dabi’s house you felt like you were always being watched. You felt so exposed and you just wanted to blend into the background.

Today you wore a new hoodie that Izuku had gotten you. It was probably one of the softest things you owned, and it was the prettiest shade of blue. The blue reminded you of a certain someone’s eyes… of the beautiful blue flames they were capable of creating… but then you’d shake the thought from your head and pull it closer around you.

You were enjoying your new freedom. Not that Dabi’s house had been a prison… but you hadn’t realized how much you missed doing things on your own. You had thought being alone would be hard, but you were thriving. It was never being alone that bothered you before, it had been his absence.

Against Katsuki’s wishes… Shoto had shown you the photos of what was left of Dabi’s car. And he hadn’t been exaggerating. You had almost passed out looking at how much blood soaked the driver seat and even the road around it.

You had been so lost lately. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel. Your heart ached. You thought you had finally found your home. You had finally started to feel your pieces come back together. Now you felt like that would never happen. He took the last few pieces of your heart with him and you felt like you would never be whole again.

Dabi had been your comfort, your safety, your home. Now you were lost.

You hated that you felt this way. You should hate him. You should curse his fucking name. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep over his death.

His death…

Was he dead? You weren’t convinced. It was too convenient, and there wasn’t a body. You wanted proof. Until then you’d go on believing he was still out there.

You closed the book you were reading. You had been on the same page for the past 10 minutes.

There was no way he wrecked his car like that. You had been in the car with him twice. Yes, he drove a little fast… but he wasn’t reckless. Either it was an elaborate cover up, or someone was after him. Or maybe… someone had been after you and he had gotten stuck in the middle as collateral damage.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

Shoto came and took a seat next to you. “I’d ask what’s on your mind, but I’m pretty sure I already know.”

“Am I that obvious?” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head on top of yours. “It’s normal. I’d actually be surprised if you weren’t torn up over it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I can’t stop worrying about him. I keep wondering where he is. If he’s okay. If there’s some grand explanation for his shitty behavior.” You shrugged. “I’m just finding it hard to grasp that the same man who held me during my panic attacks was also secretly planning to breed me… It just doesn’t add up.”

“Guilt does weird things to people.” Shoto’s hand found yours and gave it a squeeze. “I know he’s my brother, but I have no doubts about who knew him best. I only know a version of him. I only knew what he wanted me to.” He sighed, “It was obvious you meant a lot to him, and I could see him becoming more… I don’t know… human? For the first time in years he was showing emotions that weren’t rage. It would make sense if you were starting to make him question what side he was on.”

Your eyes narrowed, “So what? You think he did some shitty stuff and decided to help me… because he felt guilty about it? That doesn’t make any sense.” You pushed away from him to look him in the eyes. “Dabi only does what Dabi wants to do. That has been clear to me since day one. So what the fuck did he want out of this? None of it makes sense. Was I just a possession to him? Was I a bargaining chip? Was I just some broken pet that he got validation from nursing back to health? What?!”

You could feel your hysteria building and Bravo put his head in your lap in an attempt to calm you down. You took a few deep breaths. “He better fucking be alive… so I can kick his ass myself.”

Shoto chuckled, “Touya doesn’t stand a chance.”

His eyes looked distant and sad. You nudged his shoulder with your own, “Hey can I ask you something?”

He blinked away whatever far away memory he was thinking about, “I don’t see why not.”

“What was he like? Touya I mean… Before he became Dabi.”

Shoto’s lip turned up just slightly, “He was the best big brother I could have ever had. He was always there to help me when our dad was too rough with me. My dad tried to keep us separated… didn’t want me mingling with what he considered to be his biggest failure.” You flinched at the casual way he talked about the abuse they endured. “But Touya would sneak into my room at night. He taught me how to handle my burns and would bring me cold soba on bad days.” His eyes glassed over, “I was devasted when he died. Well… when I thought he died.”

“I blamed my dad, we all did. So, when he came out of hiding, it was like this enormous weight had lifted off of my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I was carrying it around, but I had never truly gotten over his death.” He chuckled, “So I went looking for him. I didn’t care if he was Touya or Dabi, I just wanted him in my life again. I’d take what I could get. So, I settled for our don’t ask don’t tell relationship.”

You felt a tear that wasn’t yours hit your lap. Of course this would be hard on Shoto, he’s potentially lost his brother for the second time. “If it makes you feel any better… He admitted to me that he loved you.” You smirked, “Well actually he told me he used to hate you which contradicts your story quite a bit. But he said he always wondered if things would have been better for you if he stuck around.”

Shoto laughed, “Sounds like him. Trying to act like the tough guy who didn’t give a shit… Just like how he was with you. I can’t tell you how many times he called me when he was gone checking on you. Texting me every single time your vitals spiked. He would check the cameras and send me voice memos about how he was going to beat my ass if I didn’t keep my hands where he could see them while we were sparing. But then he would deny it when I asked what going on between the two of you.”

“Hey, come on, I have an idea.” You stood and walked over to the corner of the field behind a small tool shed. You picked up a massive rock and moved it so it was hidden from view. “Can you burn his name into it?”

Shoto eyes darkened, “You want to have a funeral? We don’t even know if he’s dead…”

You nodded, “You’re right we don’t… but I think it’ll make it easier. We can have a place to morn him in private. Weather we mourn his death… or the death of who he could have been.”

Shoto’s shoulder slumped and eventually he nodded. His hand heated up and with his finger he wrote on the rock, “R.I.P. TOUYA”

You both sat there for a while just staring at the rock. You felt too cold standing here in the shade of the tool shed. You gripped your hoodie closer to you and held back the tears that you desperately wanted to shed. You knew you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think of Touya. You thought about what he would have been like if he had gone to UA. If he had become a hero. If you had met him under better circumstances. Would the two of you still have ended up together? Without your mountains of combined trauma would you even be the same people?

“You ready? We should head out soon or we’ll be late for your appointment.”

You rubbed your eyes and sniffled, “Yeah… let’s get this over with.”

Bravo wasn’t allowed in the medical side of the bunker, so you made a quick detour to your room to drop him off. Shoto quietly following behind you. “So how are things with you and Bakugo?”

You groaned and rubbed your temples.

Shoto chuckled, “That good huh?”

“He’s been hovering over me like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest inconvenience. I appreciate what he’s trying to do… but it’s just too much. I told him I needed space… and we had a fight. He hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

Shoto whistled, “I never thought I’d see the day that the two of you had a real fight. Sure, you always bickered like an old married couple growing up. But on anything serious he always caved to your every wish.” He paused at your door, “Wait. So, are you the reason he’s been extra grumpy lately?”

You blushed, “I don’t know… Maybe?”

You gave Bravo an extra scratch behind his ear before closing the door. At that same moment you heard the door next door click shut. Your eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s. “Oh hey… I didn’t know you were back from the surface yet.”

“Got back early this morning… I was actually on my way to see you. You have a time to get an early lunch? I want to talk to you about something.”

You played with the ends of your hair, which was an immediate give away that you were nervous. “I actually have some plans with Shoto. But I’m free after that. Shouldn’t take too long though.”

His eyes narrowed at your nervous posture and you cursed how well he knew you. “Oh yeah? What are you guys up to? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

You began to stutter but thankfully Shoto interrupted, “Clingy isn’t a good look for you Bakugo. Like she said… it’s not going to take long. Just wait here and she’ll be back soon.”

You saw Katsuki bristle and decided to step in before he picked a fight with Shoto. You stepped over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I just dropped Bravo off. He’s had some pretty bad separation anxiety lately so why don’t you go to my apartment and hang out with him while I’m gone. Make some coffee, pick out a movie or something. I’ll be back soon, and we can talk then.”

His posture softened as he looked you up and down. It was obvious to him that you were nervous. But he was trying his hardest to give you the space you wanted. He pulled you to him as he sighed, trapping you in his arms. “Okay fine. I’ll babysit the mutt. Can you do me a favor and bring back some migraine medication from the medical ward. My heads killing me.”

You nodded stiffly, hoping it was just a coincidence he needed something from the medical ward. “Not a problem. I have the weighted blanket you gave me on the couch if you want to take a nap while I’m gone. You look like you could use one.”

He squeezed you tighter to him. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned his head on top of yours. “I’ll be better once we stop fighting about stupid shit though.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll see you when you get back.” He released you and looked to Shoto, “Try to behave. The two of you hanging out makes me nervous.”

Shoto chuckled, “Good. You should be nervous. If you don’t figure your shit out soon, I’ll be taking your best friend spot… Kacchan.”

You snorted as you pulled Shoto away. “Are you trying to get your ass kicked? You know only Izuku gets away with calling him that! Well… and me when he’s in a good mood. But even that’s pushing it.”

“Oh, he’ll get over it. He needs a reality check. He thinks the world revolves around him.” He led you down the hall. “He can be such a pain sometimes. But I will admit he’s so much easier to be around now than when we were in high school.” He bumped your shoulder, “In a way it’s thanks to you. As sad as it is, when you went missing, he matured. It was like out of nowhere he realized there were more important things in the world then him and his hero status.”

Something about talking about Katsuki’s emotional vulnerability while walking to the clinic to check if you were pregnant with Dabi’s child made you feel slimy. “Can we talk about something else. Literally anything else. How are you and Izuku doing?”

“Good… we settled into our room. It’s a nice enough room… but it’s right next to my dad’s room. Apparently he’s thought all this time that we were just roommates.” He threw his hands up and scoffed, “Honestly! Did he think we were both professional heroes, making tons of money, but couldn’t afford to live on our own?”

You giggled, “That sounds awkward. These walls aren’t exactly thick.”

“Oh believe me I know. And I don’t care. Poor Izuku though can’t even look my dad in the eye now without blushing.”

You laughed so hard you had to wipe away a tear. “Aw poor Izuku… He’s too innocent for this world.”

Shoto scoffed, “Innocent my ass. That man is a freak in—”

You held up a hand. “Stop, stop, stop! I don’t want to know. He is a pure innocent little muffin who used to braid my hair before workouts.”

“I thought Bakugo was the one who braided your hair? I can’t imagine him being okay with Izuku being that close to you.”

You laughed. “Oh he wasn’t at first. But mostly because Izuku was better than him at something. Kats liked to braid my hair in private while we watched TV.” You shook your head at the memory, “He actually got to be really good at it eventually.”

Shoto had succeeded in distracting you long enough to make the trip to the medical ward, but now that you were here the anxiety was creeping back in.

You paused before crossing the threshold. You knew it was important to find out once and for all if you were pregnant. But you were also enjoying living in ignorance. The fact that you didn’t know meant that you could live your life as normal. If you were pregnant… it would flip your entire world upside down. You would have a life you would be responsible for, a little human that would constantly remind you of the love that almost broke you.

If you weren’t pregnant then… you didn’t know how you would feel. Would you be relieved? Would you mourn?

Your hand found your flat stomach and clenched your shirt. You took a few steps further into the ward and was hit an overwhelming sterile smell. Your breathing hitched and your knees shook. It was too clean. It was too white. It reminded you too much of the lab.

Shoto’s hand took yours and gave it a soft tug. “Hey. It’s fine. You don’t have to do all of this. I can go in and request a pregnancy test and we can go back and do this in your room. Would that make you feel better?”

You shook your head, “Katsuki’s there…”

Shoto’s shoulders sagged, “At this point I think he’d be more upset at you hiding this from him. I’m not telling you how to live your life. I think you’ve earned the right to do whatever the fuck you want. But if it were me… I’d want as big of a support system as I could get…”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Did you want Katsuki to know? How would he react? What if you were pregnant? Would he be disgusted with you? Would he want to help? Your head was spiraling down a rabbit hole of what it and it was starting to make you dizzy.

“Hey, breathe! Just take a deep breath. Let’s get you out of here before you have a panic attack. Wait outside for me. I’ll get everything we need.

You pushed the wave of anxious nausea down and gave a shaky nod. “Okay… But remember to get some migraine medication for Ka—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember. Go sit down outside and try and focus on your breathing I’ll be right back.”

You made your way outside and immediately sat down and leaned your forehead on your knees. You needed to get these invasive thoughts under control. You thought about what Dabi used to do. He would sit with you and try and distract you by talking about random shit. You knew he’d be pissed if he knew his younger brother left you all alone during one of your episodes. The thought of him yelling at Shoto was almost enough to make you chuckle.

You took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds and started listing animals that start with the letter A. When you couldn’t think of any more you breathed out. Then you repeated the process with the letter B, then C. You had made it F when Shoto made his way back to you.

“Okay, so they gave me some weird looks. Which makes sense considering I am a gay man asking for pregnancy tests. But they didn’t ask too many questions. I have two tests, a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and a phone number for a doctor… you know, for if it’s positive.”

You took his outstretched hand and stood up. “Okay… let’s get this over with.”

Every step towards your room felt heavier than the last. You just wanted to curl up under your blanket and pretend none of this was happening.

You hesitated at your door for a few moments before remembering you were a tough bitch and barreled through it full of false confidence.

You expected to see Katsuki lounging on the couch watching something on the tiny TV. Instead you found him passed out with Bravo curled up next to him. The sight of it calmed your nerves.

“Hey Shoto, can you get some coffee going? I’m going to wake him up.” You tiptoed over to him and sat on the edge of the couch. “Hey…” You shook his shoulder. “Kats? Wake up. I need to tell you something…”

Katsuki grumbled and his arm snaked around you, pulling you down to his level. “Shhh, m’head hurts.”

You giggled “Hey stop I’m being serious… I need you to get up.”

One of his eyes cracked open. “What’s up you sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sighed, “I haven’t been crying, but I am… stressed…” He sat up and moved so you were sitting facing each other. He nodded urging you to go on. “So… The reason Dabi uh… locked me in his office was so he could go to the store to uh… buy a…. pregnancy test.”

Your eyes stared at your hands and you heard him suck in a breath. “Are you? …Pregnant I mean.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know… we got some tests from the medical ward today and I’m about to take them. I’m just… a little scared.”

A medicine bottle whistled through the air and smacked Katsuki in the face. “We got you your medicine too. You’re welcome.” Shoto was smirking over by the coffee maker.

Katsuki groaned as he stood up. “One of these days I’m gonna kick the shit out of you, IcyHot Bastard.”

He stretched and held a hand out to you. “Alright, come on. Let’s go piss on a stick.”

You felt a weight starting to lift from your shoulders. “Wait. So you’re not mad?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Why would I be mad? I knew what the two of you were doing. It’s not like you cheated on me. As much as I wish we were, we aren’t together.” His thumb came up to brush a tear away that you didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Y/N. You being pregnant wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I would even be willing to tell people it’s mine if it makes it easier for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

It was quite for a few moments, while you absorbed and processed this new development. He was surprisingly calm about all of this, and it was making it easier for you as well.

“God you’re whipped.” Shoto handed the pregnancy test to you but was smart enough to remain behind you so Katsuki couldn’t hit him.

You left the boys to bicker as you entered your tiny bathroom alone. You peed on both of the sticks and set a timer on Katsuki’s phone. The next three minutes were the longest three minutes of your life.

You paced as you tried to think of anything else. But your thoughts kept going back to that night when Dabi held you in his recliner after fucking you. He had asked about you having a baby. He had sounded so hopeful. His eyes so bright at the idea of you having a kid with him. Part of you couldn’t believe that was an act. He had seemed so sincere. You thought about how he would react if he knew you were taking a test right now.

The timer went off.

Shit.

Was your whole life about to change?

With shaky hands you picked up the first test. You held your breath as you looked to the second one to confirm it.

You opened the door with tears in your eyes.

“So, what’s it say? Am I going to be an uncle?”

You let out an audible sob. “I don’t know why I’m so upset right now.” You showed them the tests. “They’re both negative.”

Katsuki wrapped you in a hug and ran his fingers up and down your back. “It’s okay to be sad. Shoto made some coffee, I don’t have plans today. We can hang out here until you feel better.”

You cried into Katsuki’s chest as you watched some cheesy movie. He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even know what to say if he thought it would help.

You were grieving a child you never had, and a love that was nothing but lies. You needed to let it out. You needed to grieve so you could move on. And this is how you do that.

By the time the credits rolled your eyes were dry and you nose stuffy. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something earlier…?”

Katsuki stiffened, “Yeah, but I think it can wait. You’ve already had a rough day.”

You shook your head, “No… I want to know. I’m just going to worry about it until you tell me. I’d rather you just rip the Band-Aid off.”

He nodded, “We got word that Dabi may have been seen by your old place. We aren’t sure it was him though. Toga had been previously spotted as well, so it’s more likely that it was her. But either way, it looks like the LOV is sniffing around.”

“W—What makes you think it was Toga?”

He cleared his throat, “We have an informant working in the LOV and he told us the last thing he heard about Dabi was that Shigaraki had sent a team to collect him… but when they came back they were bloody and he wasn’t with them.”

You sighed, “Of course he wasn’t.”

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*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn’t your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

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Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance @babayaga67@starenemy

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haechanokeh · 4 years

Text

I’m Right For You [pt. 4]

[teaser/ prologue] [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ]

(you can play Die For You by The Weeknd while reading this 😌)

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

word count: 2.8K

warning (chapter): handjob, oral sex (male receiving), penetration, cream pie

warning: corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, psychology, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

I think I’m right for you, babe. You know what I’m thinking, see it in your eyes. You hate that you want me, hate it when you cry. It ain’t workin’ ‘cause you’re perfect and I know that you’re worth it I can’t walk away. (Die for you by The Weeknd)

you chose the latter, that's why you're sitting in his lap. you were straddling mark, your knees are both on each side of mark in the single couch where he was slouching comfortably.

your mouth molding to each other producing loud smacking sound and moans. you both didn't hold back as if you owned the world. mark didn't know that you're mom was away but he never thought of her once, his head filled with you, only you. you, on the other hand holding his jaws up as your shove your face down. his hands that were staying on your hips moved to your back, squeezing your ass that made you gasp. he slipped his tongue in your mouth, caressing your soft lips. he conquered your mouth like he owned it. jaws were clenching, lip locking. nasally heavy breathing, faint moans, and dirty smacking- all this noise filled your quiet house.

mark noticed you were having a hard time breathing but you never stopped kissing him, you're like a hungry mad woman for him. not that he didn't like that, but you're literally about to lose your breath. he unlocked his lips from you, he was staring at your flushed face.

"will you be mad if i tell you i've been wanting your mouth around my dick?" he sensually looked into your lips and his thumb tracing it. "i've always imagined how does it look like with my dick in it."

his eyes darken. mark was now in his slightly dominant version. it sent you shivers at the same time your aching womanhood became responsive.

"hmm, y/n?" he hummed to call your attention, wanting an answer from you. you nodded as a reply. "thank you." mark doesn't know if it's appropriate to say that in this mood but he said it because he was nervous that you will reject it.

you only saw his dick once but it didn't leave your head. you felt scared but you badly want him and you couldn't deny it. you voluntarily get off from his lap and kneel between his legs that are manly spread. your eyes focused on his bulging crotch as your hand reached for the garter of his gray sweatpants along with his calvin klein boxer shorts. pull it down. mark lifted his hips to help you fully remove his pants. you swallowed hard staring at the familiar veiny thing that mark has. it's not fully hard yet you can tell not until you look back and eyes met, mark get more aroused when he saw your doll-like eyes, nothing but innocence and excitement. mark watches you do all this things.

mark leaned forward and traced your lower lip, he showed his middle and index finger.

"lick it." he said with a commanding voice. you obliged, tongue out and lick the tips of his fingers, the side of it. you never left your eyes on him to check if he's doing it right. his lips were in thin line but it seemed like he's suppressing something.

"suck it, y/n." he told you with authority. you started suck the tips. he smiled and pull away his fingers. "good girl, but don't use your teeth when you suck me, okay baby?"

your heart jumped when he called you two names in a single sentence.

he pumped his dick, scooted a little forward so that it wouldn't be a burden to you. he put hand hand behind your head and pull it slowly towards his crotch.

"you can start, y/n." he said with a smile, it was warm and reassuring. he switches expressions and emotions too quickly.

that's so inappropriate mark, it's not sexy but it made my heart skips a beat.

you wrapped your hand around his dick, pumping it. mark let out a shaky sigh, so you check his face. he's so heavenly, parted lips eyes on your hand stroking his dick. you stick out your tongue and lick the tip. you gazed at each others eyes while you give his dick kitten licks and twirling your tongue around its head while stroking him. he was now biting his lip as he watches your tongue flatly on the base of it stroke it up all the way to the tip. he watches his dick slowly disappearing in your mouth. you can only achieve half of his dick so far while your palm around his dick where your mouth couldn’t rich and slowly bobbing your head.

“fuck.” mark hissed. you were looking up through your lashes from time to time to check he’s enjoying it. he did, this what he always imagined and nothing compares to this reality. he caressed your cheek that are sunken in, and gently tapped it. “faster baby.”

you bobbed your head up and down in his dick, trying to go deeper but you were gagging so mark told you not yet, so you settled to sucking half of it while your hand occupied what you couldn’t. you stare at him through your lashes asking if you’re doing it right. your thighs are rubbing each other in arousal.

“yes, you’re doing good.” he moaned. he grabbed the sides of your head and help you to fasten the pace and go deeper. you gagged but his dick finally is in your throat. you didn’t realize that you’re hands already inside your sweatpants rubbing your clit through your underwear. you moaned which heighten his urgency to cum. you taste something weird, you assumed it’s his pre-cum.

“i’m close fu-” he pushed your head down more and your nose hit his pelvis, dick deeper than ever, hitting the back of your throat, mouth widely opened and suppressing your gag. “shit.” he pulled you out, you gasped and coughed a little. mark find it sexy when there’s a string of saliva that connects your mouth to his dick. he’s pumping his dick, one hand on the top of your head.

“Tongue.” he hissed. you showed your tongue, gazing up in his face and down to his dick. mark produced a string of curses as he reached his high, it splured white thick liquid on your tongue and to your cheek. he tapped the tip against your tongue. you spit it on his dick and swallowed his dick which made him off guard, shaking your head a little to deep throat him for the last time and threw your head back detaching your mouth from his cock.

you were gasping heavily and eyes locked to each other. he admired your fucked up face, only for him.

“that was… hot.” he breathed out. you smiled widely, your teeth are showing, probably because of pride and without your knowledge you brought mark to cloud 9. mark swallowed.

yeah, this is much better than what i imagined.

he leaned down, cupping your jaws and captured your lips. he could taste his essence but wasn’t bothered about it. your tongue dancing together and sometimes you were catching each other smiling through the kiss that’s why both of you are giggling but never stopped kissing. it was passionate and the word love potentially fits the description of the emotions you were sharing.

well, you flinched in surprise when you heard a doorbell.

“wait, your mom?” mark started to get panicked, but that’s impossible, so you shook your head. were you expecting someone-

“the pizza!” you quickly get up but mark grabbed your wrist causing you to bend forward.

he wiped your face full of his cum and your lips that were wet because of the wet kiss with mixture of his liquid. he won't allow other men to see you like this, you weren't aware but your erotic face is stunning.

"okay, clean." he pat your back. you giggled and ran towards the door.

afraid of making things awkward between you two, mark stopped himself from asking you what you feel about him. he knew that things went all south every time he confess or address romantic relationship between you two so he shut his mouth.

you were studying with mark. mark is a great teacher, you only understand the lessons because of him and he gave you tips to memorize things, and mark is a "study smart" type of guy, he only focuses on what he thinks that will appear in the test.

however after several hours, you're crying. you completely forgotten that you also have long test for jurisprudence and ethics which a word by word exam and it's completely impossible for you to memorize a total of 49 sections.

mark felt bad but at the same time laughing because you were crying. everything about you is cute, beautiful, or sexy for mark, he's completely blind for love.

"the hell are you laughing at? why are you filming me?! you whined and tried to snatch his phone but he was quick.

both of you were sitting on the floor because the table is too small. you weren't completely away from each other too.

"don't cry over acads, that's stressful." he said laughing while his camera still filming you.

"give me that!" you sobbed, you crawled. you successfully snatched his phone from his hand however, a cliché scene happened.

you landed on top of him, chest against his chest, and faces are inches away to each other. mark? he didn't hesitate, he was hungry for you. lip locking and moaning like crazy what happened earlier seemed like happening again right now. but this time, you're much bolder.

"bed." you said in between the kiss. mark groaned and slapped your ass signaling you to stand up. you did but both of you didn't try to remove each other's lip.

your hands were flatly on his chest, pushing him towards your room. the back of his knees met your bed causing him to fall back on it. both of you bounced because of how soft your mattress is. he shifted your position that's why you're under him, crawled forward and you crawled back using your elbow until your head hit the headboard of your bed.

he nipped your neck while your hand rubbing his bulge. you dipped your hand in his boxers and trap his flesh, stroking it.

"shit." he cursed in pleasure. he pulled out your hand, at first it confused you but you just trust him.

he removed every single fabric you have, and mark breathed out in the sight your offered him. full round breast and beautiful curves. he watches your chest to go up and down as you breathe. again, you are just trusting everything to him so you just waited and ready to commit whatever he wanted to do to you.

mark grabbed both of the ankle of your legs and pulled it to closer to your body, knees bending, and thighs open. mark staring at it.

"everything about you is beautiful." mark gaze at your eyes. you can only see nothing but sincerity which made your blood rush to your face.

"i don't know." you don't usually get complimented... not until mark praising your beauty since the day he confessed and you really don't know how to receive compliments.

"then you should." he said before kneeling and diving in to your wetness.

"oh my..." you moaned when you felt his nose in your bud and his tongue licked your slit. he inserted his tongue inside you and just do its magic accompanied by his two fingers pumping your juices.

your head became empty, all you did was scream his name and moan loudly. but when he begun sucking your, your back arch which pushed down by mark. your hard gripping mark's head and pushing it more towards you.

your face distorted in so much pleasure and just exploded without any warning. mark licking and spitting it to your pussy.

you were catching your breath, still high in your orgasm. mark sat up, your essence dripping down on his chin.

"i need you so bad mark." but you want more, you want the real thing. you pyt your feet on his bulge and stroke it. he was surprised, and later realize what you mean. mark gave you an apologetic look.

"i really loved too but we don't have protection." mark said.

"i'm on pill." you said and yes you are taking contraceptive. you saw mark's inner brows twitch.

"why?" he said sounded suspicious of you. maybe he thought you were sexually active.

"hormonal imbalance." you simply replied. he's a pharmacy student, he already knew what it meant. you saw mark face relieved.

"no skip?" he said. mark making sure that he will not destroy your life, unlike him if ever you get pregnant it's going to be hard for you to study. yeah, mark really cared for you.

"no skip." you gave him a reassuring smile.

"good." he smiled back. mark spread your essence in his cock, pumping it.

he laid down but use his right arm beside your head supported his weight to avoid crashing you.

"are you ready?" his whispered softly in your ears. you faced him and nodded. he pecked your nose. you were slightly nervous but ready to give in.

and you ask yourself, why do you act like lovers? but your brushed it off because it might ruined the mood.

he aligned his member and slowly enter the tip and ut already feels different from his fingers. mark continue to enter you slowly but when you felt that your tissue was about to break, which is very painful your hand landed on his cheek, harshly.

he was startled, lashes blinking and he stopped.

"oh my gosh, i'm so sorry! i was just surprised by the pain." you were embarrassed and felt sorry. it's just afternoon so the room is bright and you could see it left a print on his cheek.

"it's okay, it didn't hurt." he smiled, lying. shit that stings. "put your hands in my arm or shoulder." mark said because he noticed you don't know where to put your hands because you were slightly nervous. you did what he said, hands on his shoulder.

then he dig it deeper and ripped you. you moaned painfully and nails digging mark. it really hurts for virgin, imagine a tissue being ripped? mark didn't move, his manhood isn't fully inside you. he whispered lovely things into your ears, praising you and giving your face feathery kiss.

when you feel like you can handle it already, you asked him to move.

"mark, you can move." you shakily said.

"i love you." he said. he always said this everyday, like almost didn't miss. he captured your lips and shared a passionate and sloppy kiss while slowly digging deeper inside you.

and he started to thrust his hips slowly but deeply inside you. it was painfully good and you want more.

"faster mark." you moaned almost begging.

mark started to fuck you fast. you became a moaning mess, your back wanted to arch so bad but his body on top of you not allowing it which added to your pleasure. you felt restraint under him and it made you go crazy.

"mark, right there, right there!" you were screaming, wishing that your neighbour will not hear you.

"fuck." mark cursed between his gritting teeth. his face was above you and you could clearly see that his eyes switched again into something dark. he grabbed your left ankle and lifted it. he quickly changed position, he was on his knees.

mark became harsh and his dick became accurate hitting your spot. you were screaming and crying because of the pain and pleasure. hands gripping the bed sheets and hips lifting as you feel euphoric. your lungs felt like deprived in oxygen.

"i'm cumming." you cried out.

"me too, y/n. you feel so good, you're great." he said you know he's about to cum too because his thrusts became sloppy.

you reached your high first, long moan, and your eyes were crossing. he leaned down, burying his face on your neck and groaned there. he painted your walls, you can feel how full you were down there.

both of you were gasping for air but mark was crashing your small body.

"mark i can't breathe." you tapped his shoulder. mark cursed in panic and quickly lift his body and laid next to you.

"y/n, i love you." he said it twice today, shamelessly.

you're looking at each other, breathing in sync but your lids became heavy and you lost your energy to respond to him. mark chuckled and kissed your nose.

"take a rest."

but the moment you woke up he wasn't there already. but you felt something in your forehead, you grabbed it. it was a sticky note. you laughed still half awake.

i tried to wake you up but you kicked my balls. don't worry, the test is an essay type, i already left notes in your laptop. sorry for using it w/o your permission. ps, i transferred some of your photos to my cellphone. i love you y/n - mark lee

✨if you want to be added in I’m Right For You Tag List, you can DM or Ask me so i can add you ✨

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Tag List: @jjikyuu @sunshinedhyuck @erisxczenie @wassup-haeyadwae

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thank you for reading my story btw 🥺

#mark lee smut #mark lee imagines #mark lee nct #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #nct 127 smut #mark lee angst #mark lee #mark lee imagine #mark lee scenario

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moronic-validity · 3 years

Text

The Vincent Sinclair’s Boot x Reader Fic

okay so a few notes!

1) Reader is a trans guy (like your’s truly)

2) This is smut for the sake of smut, plain and simple.

3) I finished this at 2:30am and I have to be at work at 8.

This Contains: dubcon/coerced consent, drugs, bdsm, dom vincent, a boot kink, typos, almost murder, masturbation, and car problems! Everything under the cut is 18+!!!

As the temperature gauge crept higher and higher, [y/n] had to kick himself. He had been told to check his oil periodically through the road trip, but more than that, he had always been told to keep an extra thing of 5-20 in his car. Both pieces of advice went in one ear and out the other.

Which left him here, in the middle of nowhere Louisiana, 30 miles shy of Baton Rouge.

The immediate reaction was to get out of his car and scream. Sure, it was near midnight, but there wasn’t anyone nearby, so what was the worst thing that could happen. The flash of headlights on him and his car answered his question.

Great. Fantastic. Cool.

“Hey, sorry about the yelling,” he called out in the general direction of the headlights. “Any chance you have some 5-20, I’ll be right out of here if you do!”

No response. [y/n] sighed and sat on the hood of his car and watched the car. It was the middle of the night and it was still hotter than hell and humid to match. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his t shirt over his head and sat it on the hood next to him. What did it matter, he had a binder on anyway. Not like anything was showing.

The mystery driver flashed his brights at [y/n], then threw it in reverse and went back to where he came from.

Well that’s fantastic. I’m in the middle of nowhere and someone knows I’m stranded here. Perfect.

Without giving any more thought to it, he got back into his car and went to sleep, his t shirt thrown over his eyes.

The sun didn’t wake him up, the tapping on his window did.

[y/n] scrambled into an acceptable position and pulled his still damp t shirt on. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to see the man standing near his window. The man wasn’t intimidating or anything, but the situation was odd and [y/n] was immediately warry.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn mean to startle ya or nothin,” The man with the green hat said with a small laugh, “it just looked like ya might need some help, most people don like sleepin in their car this time a year.”

[y/n] squinted at the guy. It wasn’t due to the accent or the look of him, the sun just happened to be right in his eyes. The perfect start to another fantastic day.

“Uh yeah, I’ve definitely had better days. Any chance you know where to get a quart or two of oil?” He asked, ending it with a still tired yawn.

“I could give ya a lift into town, ‘m sure Bo will help you out at the station,” The green hatted man offered helpfully.

“Actually, that’d be wonderful, thank you…” [y/n] realized that he just accepted a ride from a man who’s name he didn’t even know. His mother would be so proud.

“Lester, Lester Sinclair,” Lester said with an extended hand.

“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n]” He took the other’s hand and gave a firm shake. [y/n] was acutely aware of the tacky reddish-brown smudge that was now on his hand.

The ride into town was quite, aside from the rumble of Lester’s truck and the sound of tires throwing rock.

“So where’re you headed?” Lester asked, glancing over at [y/n].

“Ah, no direction, wanted to go up, down, coast to coast. Want to see a little bit of everything, I guess,” [y/n] picked at the skin around his index finger, “I’ve only broken down once, so I figure I’m doing okay.”

“Welcome to Ambrose, I know it probably isn where ya wanted t’ go, but there are worse places.” Lester said cheerfully.

The ride went back to being quiet.

“Oh shit,” Lester whined, more to himself than anything else, as he threw the car in park and jumped out, “ya wouldn’ mind givin me a hand flipping the hubs, would ya?”

What the hell does that even mean? {y/n] thought to himself as he hopped out of the car to help Lester with the task anyway. Help was a bit of a strong word for what [y/n] did, it was more get in the way and offer moral support. Lester appreciated the gesture and the company. Most people jumped out of the car and fled into town by this point.

The two got back into the truck and drove right on into Ambrose and parked in front of the service station.

“Now, you wait here, Bo ‘ll be ‘round soon,” Lester dropped [y/n] off with a wave then drove off to wherever he worked. It occurred to [y/n] that he never thought to ask.

It also occurred to [y/n] that he’d have to walk back to his car or hope that someone in town would be willing to give him a ride. Just one more thing. He sighed and sat with his back against the wall of the station.

At least there’s shade. It’s already starting to feel like the devil’s armpit, but at least there is shade.

Time passed, could’ve been hours, could’ve been minutes.

No, it was definitely hours.

Around the point [y/n] was sure that this Bo guy would have to pry him off the cement with a spatula, Bo happened to come down the road and up to the door of the station, near where he was sitting. Bo stood within arm’s distance as [y/n] pushed himself up off the sidewalk.

“I take it you’re Bo? [Y/n] [l/n], Lester said you might have some oil?” [y/n] offered the man he assumed to be Bo his hand. Bo flashed [y/n] a smile that seemed to try to hard to be charming.

“Well, I’d introduce myself but you already know who I am,” Bo chuckled. He was in a suit and tie, didn’t seem like he was dressed for his line of work. “ Let’s see if we can’t get you back on the road, hm?” He hummed to himself as he unlocked the door to let the two men into the store.

There was no AC, and that was the first problem [y/n] had with the station. The second problem was that there appeared to be no oil. Anywhere.

What type of station doesn’t carry oil. Oil. OIL. Walmart carries oil, DG carries oil. Why does this man not have oil.

“Uh….Hey Bo, any chance you have some oil in the garage that you’re willing to part with?” [y/n] asked, while squatting and looking at another shelf devoid of oil.

“I’m sure I could check,” Bo said, his voice drifting further away. [y/n] kept looking.

“So I’ve got some bad news, I don’t have any oil down here;” ,” Bo said as he re-entered the store, wiping his hands down on a grease rag, “Good news though, I got my restock shipment in yesterday and just haven’t gotten around to bringing it down from the house. I’m more than willing to let you wait here while I go up to to get what you need, but you look like you need something to drink.”

[y/n] thought it over. This would mark the second time in less than 24 hours that he went somewhere with a random stranger, but at least this time he knew the guy’s name.

Well, the south is known for its hospitality, so I might as well go and get something to drink.

“I’d really appreciate something to drink and thank you so much for the help,” [y/n] said, suddenly aware that his mouth felt like it was full of glue.

The pair were about halfway to the house, when [y/n] finally felt the need to ask about the suit.

“Okay so, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but why are you wearing a suit? Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Bo stopped moving at [y/n]’s question and seemed to consider a few possible answers before he nodded to himself and kept walking.

“Well, it’s not the heat that gets you, it’s the humidity,” he chuckled to himself, “and uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “My mom passed on, was at her service.”

“Bo, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave town,” [y/n] couldn’t help but feel intense sympathy for Bo.

He left his mom’s funeral to help me get some oil so I can get back on the road. Holy shit.

They walked in silence for the rest of the day, [y/n] was unsure how to comfort this stranger, so he just followed the other man’s lead. Silence.

Bo unlocked the door when they got up on the step and lead [y/n] into the house.

“Washroom is down the hall if you need it, the door should be open,” Bo motioned towards the washroom, “Make yourself at home.”

With that, Bo was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of sweet tea. [y/n] decided to take Bo up on his offer of a washroom. Once the door was shut, he fought with his binder for a minute, before finally getting it off his chest, letting it hang loosely around his neck. At this point, it just felt good to take a few deep breaths. After a few minutes passed, [y/n] pulled his binder back into place, swore he’d keep it off until he hit the next rest stop, then went back out into the house and met Bo in the kitchen.

Bo handed [y/n] the glass of sweet tea, condensation already beading on the sides. Nice and cold and incredibly sweet, it even tasted southern. And a bit salty. [y/n] had never had homemade sweet tea before, so he assumed that maybe that just happened sometimes with the tea when it cooled.

The room started to sway.

“Hey, [y/n] maybe you should sit down, looks like the heat is getting to you,” Bo said, worry in his voice, but a smile on his lips, “maybe you ought to lay down for a bit.”

Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.

That was weird, he tried to say it out loud, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Bo helped [y/n] to sit on the couch and as his vision started to darken, [y/n] swore he saw another person enter the room.

When [y/n] came to, he realized a few things in short order. It was much darker, he was not on the couch, and he was restrained to the metal table he way laying on. Ever the optimist, he was thankful for the fact that he still had his clothes on and also for the fact it was much cooler wherever he was.

A tall man with long dark hair entered his line of sight. [y/n] had a few ideas of things to yell at him, but instead, took a different approach.

“So, either I’ve been asleep for a really long time, or you’re not Bo,” [y/n] said, turning his head to get a better look at the man. The man’s shoulders shook, like he was laughing without the noise.

Okay so he can’t talk. Noted.

The man turned around to face the table and made sure his hands were in clear view as he signed, “Vincent.”

The motions were smooth and [y/n] caught it near immediately.

“Vincent is a nice name,” he mused, giving Vincent a charming smile of his own, “I’m [y/n]. Now, I do have a few questions, mainly, why am I tied up?”

Vincent turned his back on [y/n] and went back to preparing the paralytic, deciding to make it a bit stronger so the man on the table wouldn’t have to be awake for the worst of it. When he turned around and [y/n] saw the needle, the reality of the situation began to sink in and things snapped into focus.

“Hey Vincent, I don’t know what’s in that needle, but I promise you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re about to do,” [y/n] tried to keep his voice level as he squirmed and fought against the restraints, “I know we don’t know each other, but I swear you don’t need to do this.”

Vincent watched him writhe on the table and considered his options.

“Please, can we talk this out, please,” [y/n] continued to beg, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and bruises already forming at both his wrists and his ankles from the jerking around. Desperation in one hell of a drug, because in no other situation could [y/n] see himself saying, “I’ll do anything to convince you.”

Vincent set the syringe back down and walked up to the head of the table and gripped [y/n]’s jaw and turned his head to make sure he saw when he signed “Are you sure?” he drew it out to emphasize the importance of the question.

Was [y/n] sure? No. No he wasn’t, but he wasn’t in a place that allowed many options. Behind door one? Death! Behind door two? A questionable fate that could very well still end in death!

Yeah, I’ll go with door number two, please.

[y/n] nodded, Vincent’s hand still not leaving his jaw.

Vincent considered the situation for a moment. He considered the number of girls that Bo had brought to him after he had had his way with them at the station. Girls had never really been Vincent’s speed. There were plenty of attractive guys who had come through, but mostly they were either already dead or just spit curses at him. [y/n] was different. No threats, no insults, he was shockingly calm, all things considered. Vincent stroked up and down the side of [y/n]’s face, bringing his hand into the smaller man’s hair and pulling, eliciting a soft whimper.

“I want you to show me,” Vincent signed before undoing the restraints at [y/n]’s ankles. As for his hands? His hands were going to stay bound, but a change of position was still needed. Vincent kept eye contact with [y/n] as he undid his wrists.

[y/n] sat up on the table, moving slowly as to not startle Vincent. The last thing he wanted was to scare the guy who probably had a half dozen ways to kill him in arms reach. His wrists ached and were bleeding in some places. He rubbed at his sore joints before Vincent snapped his fingers, pointed directly at him, then down at the floor near his boot clad feet.

[y/n] had the opportunity to make a run for it, but instead knelt at Vincent’s feet. Vincent put his hand out and without thinking, [y/n] rested the side of his face against it. Vincent’s face burned beneath his mask, that was not what he needed the man to do. He pulled his hand away and gently slapped at the kneeling man’s face, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that that was not the desired action. The kneeling man was a quick learner and when Vincent put his hand out again, he reluctantly placed his wrists in the larger man’s hands.

[y/n] was not thrilled at this situation, but he was also a simple man, and for all the terror in the situation, Vincent was a large man with shockingly soft hands that were big enough to envelop both of his wrists, who had complete control over the situation. Should he be getting wet due to the situation? Absolutely not, but in the one psychology class he took in high school, it was mentioned that fear and arousal were close together in the brain.

Vincent saw the bruising and blood on the smaller man’s wrists and was careful when he rebound them. Sure, he was planning on killing the guy, but his plans had changed. He threaded a rope and carefully suspended his wrists so that his wrists would remain above his head.

[y/n]’s first thought was that Vincent wanted head. Most guys he had met enjoyed getting head, so it did make sense. He carefully pressed his cheek against the man’s crotch and nuzzled against it, then looked up and into Vincent’s eyes for any sign. Instead, Vincent just lifted his knee and pushed [y/n] off of him like he was a disobedient dog.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as to what he wanted, if not a blow job. He was further confused when Vincent lifted his boot clad foot and pressed it into the smaller man’s pelvic bone, hard.

Oh.

The pressure of it was enough to lift him up just a little bit more and it had him wetter than he thought he could be in a situation like this. He pressed down onto the shoe and began to grind against it, shamelessly chasing the friction it created.

Vincent groaned. His cock twitched as he watched the man’s lewd display. He didn’t want [y/n] to touch him, not yet. There was still the chance that could go horribly wrong, what Vincent wanted was to see exactly how desperate the man was. Vincent began to palm himself, stroking through the fabric of his pants while he watched.

The answer was very. [y/n] was very desperate. [y/n] was desperate not to die and now, now he was also desperate to cum. He pressed himself harder against the toe of Vincent’s boot and rutted against it, groaning loudly when it pressed up against that bundle of nerves. He began to fall into a rhythm that hit every sensitive spot he could reach.

Vincent’s hand was now in his pants as he stroked himself to the same rhythm [y/n] was fucking himself to. God, Vincent thought to himself, this man was making an absolute whore of himself. It might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Could make work slightly less taxing. Then the bound man made a sound that snapped Vincent out of his thoughts and almost made him cream his pants.

He was getting so close, he had thrown himself so into chasing his high that he almost forgot that the circumstances that brought him to this were less than desirable. He pressed began to rotate his hips so that bundle of nerves caught significantly more pressure and more friction. He let out a loud, needy whine.

“Please Vincent, please tell me I can cum, I’ve been such a good boy, please God, Vincent,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he was babbling and begging for a different release now. Vincent bucked into his own hand, listening to the whines and pleas.

Tears were starting to form in [y/n]’s eyes again, he was trying so hard to be good for Vincent, trying so hard to be his good boy. Sure, less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible, but God, he was so close to cumming and he just needed Vincent to tell him he had been good. Hadn’t he been good enough to deserve release?

Vincent pressed his crotch against [y/n]’s face and continued to jack himself off. He didn’t want the man’s mouth, but he wanted the proximity. He was so close to his own release. So so close, all he needed was-

“Oh GOD, sir please, I’ve been so good for you, please sir. Tell me I’ve been a good boy for you, tell me I’m your good boy, please sir; oh my God, please, please,” [y/n] continued to babble, now crying for release against Vincent’s aching cock.

Yeah, that just about did it for him. Vincent’s orgasm took him hard and left a sizable stain that leaked into the front of his pants and against the begging man’s face. Vincent closed his eyes, lost in his own release. When things snapped back into focus, he realized the other man was still whining pitifully, still having not came.

Vincent had to admit, he was impressed at the man’s willpower, it was oddly attractive to him that the man refused to grant himself pleasure without permission. This could actually work out wonderfully, Vincent thought to himself.

He took the rope in his free hand and yanked on it hard enough to knock the [y/n] off balance. He looked up at Vincent as he tried to regain balance. Vincent let go of the rope and let him drop onto his knees, but his eyes were still locked on his masked face.

Vincent thought about it for a moment before signing “I want you to cum.”

That was all [y/n] needed to hear before going back to rutting against the shoe, quickly going over the edge and coating the toe of the boot in his fluids. He braced himself against Vincent’s leg, mumbling thank yous as he came back down. Vincent allowed this to go on for a short while, before cutting the rope and pressing [y/n]’s face down to the still wet boot.

Vincent used one hand to yank [y/n]’s hair to make the blissed out man look up at him, with the other hand, he calmly signed “Clean it up.”

#slasher fucker #vincent's boots #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent x reader #house of wax #nsft #I haven't written a fanfic in years #fanfic #theo writes #theo's thoughts #teddy talks #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #sinclair brothers

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

Confidentiality - Chapter 1: The Conference Call

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Four months. Four long months that she’s been hiding in lockdown. So when everything starts to go back to normal again, she’s going back to work as Jensen’s handler for the first Supernatural convention after the pandemic.

Chapter Warnings: A little angst, a dash of fluff

WC: 1703

A/N: For this fic, let’s pretend Jensen is single and the pandemic was over and done with after four months. Also I’m sorry ugh, it’s been a while since I wrote Jensen.

Beta’d by: @dean-winchesters-bacon <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

It’s Monday and Y/N is sitting in a darkened room as she starts up her laptop for today’s work meeting. She had drawn the blinds already, hiding her surroundings from her workmates.

The light on the nightstand illuminates the room enough for the people in the video call to see her features. That’s all they need to see, really.

Logging onto her laptop with her password, she clicks open the email client, and selects her calendar. The cursor travels over the highlighted block and she clicks on it, searching for the login link to the Zoom meeting.

It’s 4.56 PM, she still has four minutes left. Wonders if she should click on the link and let the computer connect or if she should wait. She’d hate to be one of the first ones because that’s always awkward. She would spend time talking nonsense with whoever was as eager as her to join a meeting too soon.

4.58 PM. Now is a good time, probably. Not too early and she’d hate even more to be the last one.

Moving her mouse over the link, she clicks on it and a window with the meeting pops open. There’s another click and then she’s there, her laptop camera lights up with a green light, signaling that she too can be seen.

Seeing herself on screen is not something she enjoys. She nervously rights her hair, arranges it so nobody will notice the hickey that she tried to hide with concealer ten minutes before. It’s a fresh one, one he just gave her an hour ago, even though he knew full well that she’s going to have a meeting. It's her own fault because she had let him, always gets so fucking weak when he nibbles at her throat.

Y/N joins as the six people are talking about something. Nonsense, she guesses. She doesn’t really listen.

There should be ten people in the meeting to discuss the upcoming Supernatural Convention. The first convention after the lockdown.

“Hi,” she says and waves, because that’s what every newcomer does and she’s greeted with Hello’s and Hi’s back.

But there’s one guy already sitting in there, looking like he owns the whole fucking internet, and she doesn’t know how he does it with the lighting but he looks downright pretty. It’s not really fair.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jensen greets her by name. Of course he does, because he likes to rile her up. He’s also the only one who’s so abso-fucking-lutely cheery. “How are you?”

She smirks, “I’m fine, thank you. I hope you are too.”

Keeping it professional, that’s what she can and will do.

“Good,” Jensen nods and opens his mouth to say something more but he gets cut off by her boss who’s taking the lead.

Y/N doesn’t say much, doesn’t have anything to say anyway during the first ten minutes of the conversation. Lowering her face, she takes notes because it’s a prep meeting where they get informed how it will work out and to see how the spirit of the people involved is for the upcoming convention — which she’s really excited about. It has been a while.

Jensen and Jared do a lot of talking, as they want to know the details on how to make the experience great for the fans after everyone’s been holed up for so long. And she loves that. She always loved how they actually really care, unlike other show’s leads. There are some points that still need to be talked through and Y/N just sits back and watches. She could watch Jensen talk for days, it’s really mesmerizing.

His hair is long, his beard too. Jensen’s new look is completely different from Dean. It makes him look softer, and rounds up the edges of his jawline. The graying of his beard doesn’t make him less attractive, and that’s also something that she thinks it’s unfair. She hopes they will let him keep it for the convention. Hopes that he won’t let them talk him out of it because ‘some fans might want to meet Dean and not Jensen’. It’s going to be another month until they go back to filming, so it’s actually feasible. She’s sure that apart from a select few, the majority of fans would love to take a photo with this look and she can’t blame them one bit.

It’s going to be weird when the look is gone. Honestly, she needed some time to get used to it herself, but it has really grown on her. Maybe she’ll mourn the loss — just a little.

“So, let’s recap,” Gina, her boss, says and Y/N snaps her mind back to reality, “Jared’s flying in on Friday already because you want to visit some friends, right?”

“Correct,” Jared nods his head in approval. “You did book the hotel for three nights for me, right?” The question is directed to her co-worker, Julian, who’s responsible for the boys' travel arrangements.

“Yeah, I did,” Julian says with a nod of his head.

Gina nods, “Good, so Jensen, I see that you’re flying in on Saturday evening as per usual?”

“Yes.” Jensen says. He looks into his screen and licks his lips. She hates that she knows that he’s looking at her.

“I want you girls to be there on Friday evening at the latest? We’ll also go for dinner on Saturday and go over the Sunday schedule.”

“Uh, yes. I’ll be there,” Hannah and Kristin say in unison. Kristin is responsible for Misha but since Misha is also attending Sunday, she sits into the meeting as a formality.

That’s Y/N’s cue.

“I-I’m, uh, sorry, I’m still in the middle of booking my flight but yeah, I’ll be there on Friday.”

It was a huge issue with Jensen and they’d argued today about the flight. He doesn’t want her to leave until the last possible minute but now she has the confirmation that she has to be there on Friday already.

She sees Jensen raising an eyebrow and hates him for it because he distracts her.

“Okay,” her boss nods, “Jared and Jensen, I’ll have someone picking you up.”

Jared smiles, “Okay.”

“Great,” Jensen huffs out. She can see that he’s a little irritated about something.

The others don’t seem to have noticed, but she does. Jared notices as well, but apart from him clearing his throat, he doesn’t say a word.

“Right, I need to hurry to another meeting. Boys, I’ll see you Sunday!” Gina addresses the boys before waving goodbye, and disconnects. People in the meeting follow her and disappear one by one.

Y/N too, disconnects and is about to shut down her laptop when a skype call interrupts her.

Ugh.

It’s Jensen.

As soon as she picks up, her screen lights up and the view of his face almost blinds her. Honestly, it’s like staring into the sun. Nonetheless, she rolls her eyes because of the things he pulled in the meeting.

“Why are you rolling your eyes at me?” He asks, seemingly oblivious.

She groans with another eye roll, “Because you tried to distract me the entire conference call!”

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one who was trying to undress you with my eyes.”

Y/N cocks an eyebrow, frowning at him. There’s a beat of silence until he groans.

“Fine, alright, I did. Sorry, okay? And why didn’t you say that we’re going to fly in together on Saturday like we said we would?” There’s something about the way he looks and she detects disappointment.

“As far as I remember, we did not settle on that because you ended up distracting me again and gave me a fucking hickey. And besides,” she sighs, “Nobody should know.”

“Would it really be so bad, Y/N?”

“Jensen, are we really going to have this conversation over Skype?”

“Fine,” he scoffs and stands up abruptly, walking out of the frame.

Great.

Abandoning her laptop, Y/N proceeds to walk to the window to open up the blinds again. Walking back, she switches off the only other light source, and as if on cue, the door opens.

“Shall we have the conversation face to face instead?” Jensen asks as he barges in, walks to the bed of his guest room, and sits down. He rubs a hand through his long hair, scratches at his beard before he looks at her.

“I rather not have it at all, but yet here we are, huh?” She strides over to stand in front of him and Jensen looks up, his features are so fucking soft, it makes her weak.

“Why don’t you want them to know? And I’m sure they would let it slide if you flew in on Saturday instead of Friday. You’re only responsible for me anyway and we’re a good team.” His hand reaches out for her, tugs at her wrist, uses his strength to pull her onto the bed with him.

Y/N lands on her back with a squeal and Jensen takes the opportunity, looming over her and looking down at her. Her hand goes up, strokes his hair back, fingertips tracing along his beard.

“Because the only reason I’m still employed is because you let them put in the contract that you want me as your handler and no one else. They would absolutely hate it if they found out I was fucking their talent.”

Jensen chuckles, his nose touching hers, “That’s not true.”

“What’s that?”

“If anything, it’s me fucking you.” His irresistible smile makes Y/N melt a little before he kisses her.

He lingers too long, kisses her too softly, too sweetly, knowing what effect his kisses have on her.

Pushing at his chest, she makes him break the kiss, “I should look for a flight.”

“No,” he chuckles and pecks her lips.

“Jensen!”

“Okay, fine,” he pushes himself up, “but only because I have an interview scheduled.”

Right, he does. It’s going to be an hour long.

“You want me to make dinner to have it ready when you’re finished?” She asks while she sits up and walks over to her laptop.

“Nah, I’ll eat you,” Jensen winks before he walks out.

Chapter 2

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#confidentiality #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fan fic #jensen ackles fan fiction #jensen ackles series #nathalie writes

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

The Notes

The Pool | The Difference | Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Explicit - 18+ only Warnings: Excessive fluff and explicit sexual content - oral sex, vaginal sex. Notes: On today’s episode of This Accidentally Became a Series! So anyway I’ve already completed a part to be posted some time this week after this and started writing another because I’m a Mess™? So. Summary: The first time you saw it, Borracho's neat handwriting had taken you aback a bit.

You're the last two in the office - for now. You know that Zapata will be by in a bit to finish up some paperwork that he's been swearing up and down that he'll get done but just keeps putting off. You're not in a crazy rush or anything. Your computer's system is updating, you've got nothing else you really can do right now, so you let your eyes... Wander. Borracho is hunched over a legal pad, scribbling something. His eyes will dart to his screen every few seconds, and then he's back down again, hair slicked back and shining in the fluorescent overheads.

Your computer screen lights up, progress bar at 100, then the monitor shuts itself down. You can't really dawdle much more, so you get up. "You goin'?" You glance over when you hear him ask it, and smile when you see him still scribbling away. "Uh huh," You confirm, grabbing your jacket and tugging it on, "You gonna be here long?" "A while." You pick up your bag before walking over to his desk. You see his lips twitch as you get closer, but he doesn't look away from his work. "What're you doing, sweetness?" He murmurs as you lean over his shoulder. "Looking at your notes," Is your innocent answer. The first time you saw it, Borracho's neat handwriting had taken you aback a bit. You'd asked for info on a case they'd been working, and he'd come over, legal pad in hand. You'd blinked down at it, and he'd asked you what was wrong. "No, nothing. Your handwriting is, like, freaky legible. Like it could be uploaded and turned into its own font." Borracho had just raised an eyebrow at you, but the guys had taken that for a ride - jokes about Borracho Bold, Borracho Italic, Times New Borracho in 12 point font. You'd considered calling out sick for the rest of the month. "Still 'freaky legible'?" Borracho asks you now, and you groan as he chuckles. "Shut up," You mutter. You watch him write for a few moments, listen to the steady scratch of pen on paper. "Don't stay here too late," You say finally. "Yes ma'am," he murmurs. You glance at the door before you turn your head, pecking his cheek. It's the most action the two of you have ever gotten in the office. He smiles up at you, and you shoot him a wink before heading out. -- Since you and Borracho have started dating, not just turning up at one another's apartment for Mutual Support Snuggle Sessions, it's been pretty rare that there's a night that you're not with one another. But for almost two weeks now, you've been on opposite schedules. And it's... driving you a little crazy. Connors took a bad fall during their last op and got a concussion, so he's on desk duty. The guys cover where they can, which keeps Borracho out of the office and away from you when you’re in. The two of you still text when you have a free moment, and you know he's alright, and that he's just as tired of this schedule as you are. Thing is, you've also been finding notes around your desk. The handwriting is unmistakable. He started leaving them a couple of days into your odd new schedule. You found a post-it stuck to your monitor that said, 'Forgot to turn this off. -B.' You'd pouted. You could've sworn you-- well, whatever. He'd shut it off for you. You'd shot him a thank-you text, and were about to throw the post out before you found yourself tucking it into the front cover of your notebook. The next one had been stuck on the full water bottle you'd left on your desk the day before that said, 'Drink me'. You'd snorted. You almost always forgot to drink water when you got caught up at work. Now and again throughout the day, you'd catch sight of the post-it and take a drink. At the end of the day, you tucked that one into the front cover of your notebook, too. You found a new one every day - on your monitor, in your notebook, on your desk, stuck to your spare bottle of hot sauce that you keep in the bottom drawer of your desk. They’re, ‘$5 says Henderson fails his piss test’, and, 'Don't forget to take a break, sweetness', and, ‘Missed your voice today’, and, ‘New bottle in my desk for when you run out, behind the Pepto’. You’ve got a tidy stack of fifteen notes from him by the time Connors is cleared for field duty and put back in the rotation. Borracho’s got the day off, so you know you’re not going to see him when you go in that morning. When you open your laptop, you smile at the note you find left stuck to your screen: ‘My place tonight?’ -- Maybe it’s because it’s been two weeks since you’ve been with him, but his hands feel so big. You lean up into his kisses as he presses you back against the door; he’s cupping your face and smoothing his thumbs over your cheekbones. You’ve always liked Borracho’s hands. You remember how calming they felt that night at Sutton’s apartment, when you were terrified, steering you through the throng, but keeping you close; the way his fingertips would always skim over your shoulder when you would first curl up on the couch - not a teasing touch, but just a light skim, almost like he was making sure you were still there, still solid, still real. And now, as one slides from your face to smooth over your throat and the other slips over your hip -- you press into his hands and sigh into his mouth, “Touch me.” You’ve missed him. You can’t remember the last time you felt this desperate for anyone. Another time, Borracho might tease you a little bit, but the way that his hand tightens around your hip tells you that he wants you just as badly. Borracho never says no to you. -- It’s not that he’s careful with you. It’s that he’s deliberate as he smooths his hands over your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. His lips follow his fingertips, soft and after his slightly rough touch. He takes his time, curling his hands around your hips as he eats your pussy. When you slip your hands down to settle over his, he takes hold of your wrists, and he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches when he does. When you’re on his knees for him, he runs his hands over your cheeks, over your neck. He still doesn’t talk much in bed. You didn’t expect that to change, but you can read him better now than you could the first time you were together. You still revel in the throaty moans and sighs that you can pull from him. But tonight, even as you’re mouthing his hip bone, and suckling the head of his cock, and taking him in your mouth, Borracho seems more determined to see what sounds he can pull from you. And when he’s fucking into you, he catches hold of your hands with his. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and he grins into your neck as you make the sweetest little whining noise, tightening up around him. And when his thrusts get a little harsher and he asks you so sweetly to cum for him, how could you possibly deny him? You never tell Borracho no. -- Borracho’s fingers massage your neck gently as you curl up against his side. You’ve taken hold of his other hand and you’re tracing your finger along the lines on his palm. “...Is it weird that I missed you?” You ask. He chuckles, thumb smoothing over your nape. “Not weird,” He promises, “I missed you, too. Missed seeing you in the office,” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “Missed waking up with you.” His hand slides down to your shoulder and he squeezes it gently. You tip your chin up and kiss his jaw. “The notes helped,” You admit softly. “Yeah?” You open your mouth a little wider and lightly bite at the hinge of his jaw before you hum, pressing kisses to the same spot. Borracho lets out a quiet growl, tightening his hand on the back of your neck. “Gotta give me a few more minutes,” he murmurs. But what he says and what he does are two very different things, because Borracho is pressing you onto your back again. He’s settling between your thighs and mouthing an already darkening mark on your collarbone. His hands slip up under your shoulders, and you smile, cuddling up against him. You run your fingers through his hair, tipping your head to the side and looking down at him. Borracho peers up at you from under his lashes and you smile at him. “Sweetness?” He murmurs against your skin. “Mm?” “What is it with you and my hands today, huh?” You tip your head back and laugh, but you’re embarrassed. “I don’t know! They’re all...Big and rough, and...I don’t know, it’s hot, fuckin’ sue me.” He raises a brow. One of his hands slides out from under your shoulders. He skims his fingers along your cheekbone, then over your lips. You kiss the pad of each one. Borracho’s eyes drift to your lips as you part them, letting your tongue tease over the pad of his fore and middle fingers. He dips them in and out of your mouth gently, presses them down against your tongue, groans when you slip your tongue between them to tease over the ridges of his knuckles and down to the vee between his fingers. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and teases the wetness over one of your pebbled nipples. Before you can sink into the feeling, the touch is trailed further down -- his fingers slick deftly over your clit and you groan, spreading your thighs a bit more as if that’ll hurry him along. It never does. It does earn you a throaty chuckle and a nip to your inner thigh as he ducks his head down. You’re going to be a babbling mess for him in a matter of minutes and it’s all because of those damn hands. -- When morning comes, you’re tired as hell, and you’re the best kind of sore. Borracho’s left your collarbone and chest mottled with hickeys that you’ll think about all day. He’s out of bed before you are - you both have work, but he’s got to be in earlier than you have. You drift into the kitchen, following the sounds of him puttering around and the smell of brewing coffee. You cuddle up against him at the counter, resting your head between his shoulder blades. “Sorry, sweetness, forgot your mug in the cabinet.” His voice is still a little gruff with disuse. You can’t even be mad; you’re not usually out of bed this early, but his side of the bed was cold. You grumble as you step over to the cabinet and open the door. You frown when you see something stuck to your usual mug. “Hey, babe, there’s something--...” You trail off as you un-stick the post-it. You read it over a couple of times before turning to look at Borracho. He’s watching you, calm, curious, taking a sip from his coffee. You hold the post-it up, raising a brow. “Really?” You ask softly. He nods. “If you want,” He murmurs. A grin breaks out across your face and you rush back across the kitchen to wrap your arms around Borracho - he’s set his mug aside as soon as he’s seen you coming - so you can cover his face with kisses as you mumble, “Yes, yes, yes.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around you and keeping you pressed against his chest. You lean away to get a good look at him. “You realize that this means you’ll have to start keeping food in the house.” “I think I can adjust,” He teases. You lean up, catching his lips in a gentle kiss. The post-it is still in your hand, the tacky line of adhesive clinging to your fingers - Borracho’s neat lettering spelling out, Move in with me?

#The Pool #The Notes #Benny Borracho #Benny Borracho Magalon #Benny Borracho x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho x You #Benny Borracho/Reader #Benny Borracho/You #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Den of Thieves

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kookie-doughs · 4 years

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 6: WE HAVE BATHROOM INCIDENT

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn Percy was carrying. Another said, "That's him."

Anxious if all the attention, I scooted closer to Percy holding onto his arm. Most of the campers were older than us. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. The way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. Though I am aware the attention was on Percy. I still felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something.

I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realized—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.

"What's up there?" Percy asked Chiron.

He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?"

"No," he said with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain.

"Come along, you two," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see."

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.. . . . . . . . . .

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" I asked Chiron.

"Yeah, I mean... he was a good protector. Really." Percy added.

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that! He brought two!"

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate... ah... fate of your mother and Y/N's parents. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you two dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

"He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Chiron winced. "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

"How old is he?"

"Oh, twenty-eight."

"What! And he's in sixth grade?"

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible."

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career... ."

"That's not fair," I said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

Chiron looked away quickly. "Let's move along, shall we?"

But I wasn't quite ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to me when Chiron talked about Percy's and I's parents' fate, as if he were intentionally avoiding the word death.

"Chiron," Percy said. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real..."

"Yes, child?"

"Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

Chiron's expression darkened.

"Yes, child." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now... until we know more... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, Percy. Let's see the woods.". . ..

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asked. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"My own—?"

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose either of you do. I think a size five will do you both. I'll visit the armory later."

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armory, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" Percy asked.

Chiron looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. "We still have to eat, don't we?"

Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" I guessed.

"Correct," Chiron said.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty?

I stopped when Percy stopped.

"Percy?"

He stood in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.

I held his hand and we got closer to the cabin. We peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he could pull us back, I caught a glimpse of the interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. "Come along, you two."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on me and gave me an evil sneer. She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red.

I kept walking, trying to stay as close as I could to Percy. "We haven't seen any other centaurs," Percy observed.

"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really..."

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?"

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't have made my Top Ten Things to Wish For list.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."

"Why depressing?"

Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

"Oh, look," he said. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

* * *

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked us critically.

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and Y/N from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it... ? A caduceus.

Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy, Y/N. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range.

I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at us. I knew this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."

So naturally Percy tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of himself, almost taking me with him but I had let go of him as he fell. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, Y/N L/N, meet cabin eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody familiar asked.

I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everybody groaned.

"Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy and Y/N. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there. Y/N can have the bed over there."

"Luke." I smiled. He replied with a grin and ruffled my hair.

"Uh?"

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" Percy asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given Percy. He was a few spots away from mine.

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will we be here?" Percy asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed.

"Come on," Annabeth told us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"Come on." She grabbed Percy's wrist and dragged him outside. Percy took my hand to come with him, I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind us.

"See you at dinner." Luke waved.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one. Maybe it was Y/N."

"What's your problem?" Percy was getting angry now. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"

I gripped his shoulder trying to calm him.

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Hahah typo and originality go brrr

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #X Reader #Book 1 #Lightning thief #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Chapter 6 #Fanfiction #fanfictions

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incongruousstrawberry · 4 years

Text

Magnets pt. 1 (Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader)

Word count: 1.9k.

Tags: none.

Summary: During your third year of high school, you get acquainted with a very charming boy. How will things evolve?

Kuroo Tetsurou was definitely a popular guy. Tall, athletic, with beautiful but weirdly cut hair, he always had a predatory sneer that made everyone shrink in his presence. Everyone except you. The reason was that, unlike most other people, you had fortuitously got the chance to discover that under that cocky and strict air he always showed around there was something else.

After your second year of high school, you had to transfer to a new school, Nekoma High. On the first day you had left home a bit too early, so you decided to take it easy on the way there, walking slowly and observing your surroundings in order to get a better view of your new city. While doing so, your attention was caught by a voice coming from your left. You turned your head toward that direction and saw a small green space, in the middle of which stood a crouched boy and a tiny white and brown dog. The boy had a weird haircut that reminded you slightly of a rooster and he was talking to the puppy while petting him profusely.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you? My little good boy, you like when Kuroo pets you, don’t you? What a good boy you are.” The tone of the boy was the usual ridiculous high-pitched tone people use when they talk to puppies and babies, and the thing clashed hilariously with his outer rebellious appearance.

After a moment of affectionate tones, the boy noticed that you were observing him and his face darkened briefly. After leaving the dog alone and after inspecting you from the bottom to the top (he was still crouched), he stood up and walked toward you, assuming an attitude that you soon discovered was his default one.

“You attend Nekoma High, don’t you?” he asked confidently, recognising your uniform.

“Yes,” you simply replied.

“How is it that I’ve never seen you before?” His tone was inquisitional and somehow it seemed like he deemed it impossible that he could not know every single person (or maybe girl) in the school.

“I’ve just transferred. Today will be my first day,” you replied, a little annoyed by the way the boy was towering over you now that he was standing and scanning you.

“Oh, which class?”

“3A.”

A pensive expression played across the boy’s face. “You don’t say…” Then he started walking, turning distractedly toward you with a gaze that you immediately recognised as a way to say “follow me”.

Since you had to go in the same direction, you were left no choice but to walk together with him, but you felt a bit strange about the change in the attitude of the boy. You wondered if he was the type of person who constantly wanted to make an impression.

In truth, you had soon discovered that to simply put it, Kuroo Tetsurou was a person with a thousand facets. Sometimes he was arrogant, but other times he was extremely humble; sometimes he could be a bit of a dick, but at times he could also be surprisingly kind; sometimes it seemed like he didn’t care about people that much, other times he almost seemed maternal. There was one thing that was constant, though, and that was that having to deal with him was always fun. And it was particularly fun when the boy was dumbfounded by the fact that you, unlike most of the girls in the school, didn’t hang on his words.

It wasn’t like you didn’t notice the remarkable charm of the boy, but you had imposed upon yourself to keep a certain distance at least until you had the chance to get to know him better.

Being classmates had been a source of information, but you had the impression he wasn’t completely himself in that environment. New clues started to arrive the first time he invited you to watch one of his friendly matches. He had heard you telling a friend and classmate that you were free that afternoon and he had immediately taken advantage of that, saying that you couldn’t miss the chance to see the great volleyball team of Nekoma High.

Sceptical, but curious, you had accepted the invite and followed the boy to the gym, where he had briefly introduced you to his teammates, and particularly to Kenma, who you later discovered was his best friend.

While the boys had gone into the locker room to change, you had found a place on the bleachers and shortly after a parade of boys in red had appeared in front of you. Needless to say, red suited him. The other team arrived soon and, after a bit of warming-up, the match began.

You had watched some matches on the TV, but looking at the movements of the players from up-close was rather exciting and you soon realised that Kuroo was a very good player. He had scored many points with his serves, strikes and blocks, but that wasn’t all. Even if he had neglected to mention it, he was the captain of the team and you had had the chance to overhear the speech he had delivered to his teammates. It was something about blood and bringing oxygen to the brain. It had seemed quite peculiar but at the same time…

BOOM. You got hit by a ball in the face, on your left eyebrow to be precise. You hadn’t had the time to avoid it because you were completely lost in thought and you had seen it just at the very last moment. The boy who had hit the ball last - you discovered later that it had been a receive gone bad - apologised over and over for a while and then the match continued normally, but you had noticed the worried expression of your voluminous haired friend.

After the match, Kuroo had insisted on walking you home and, as soon as you had gone far enough from the school, he had taken you aside and caressed your temple gently, making you stare at his dark eyes in surprise.

“Does it hurt?” he asked you, concern clouding his eyes.

“No, I think it’s just slightly swollen. I haven’t had a chance to check my face in a mirror yet, but maybe it’s better this way,” you said with a chuckle.

“Damned Yaku, of all the days he had to make that mistake today…” Kuro seemed upset and moved his hand, gesturing while talking.

You stopped one of his hands by gently taking his wrist in your hand. “Kuroo, everything’s alright. By tomorrow I won’t even remember this happened.” You smiled. “Furthermore, that guy played like a god today, so I really don’t think you can get mad at him.”

Kuroo gave you a suspicious look and started walking again. “Is that so? And what do you think about me then?”

You followed him, walking side by side. “Mmh… let me think…” You were playing. You knew that Kuroo wanted to hear you said that he was good, but it was funny to make him suffer just a little.

The boy looked at you sideways. “If you talk like this, you make me start to think that maybe you deserved being hit by that ball.”

You laughed and then finally replied. “You’ve played very well, Kuroo. I’m no expert in volleyball but watching you play was very interesting.”

While you walked and looked at the little shops you were passing by, you smiled and the lights of the windows reflected in your eyes. “Mmh…” you pondered for a moment.

“What is it?” he asked, interested.

“That speech about blood… could you explain it to me? I couldn’t hear the whole of it.” You turned briefly toward him and glimpsed a hint of surprise in his eyes.

“Oh… it’s just a speech I make before we start the match to psych up the others.”

“Yeah, I got that part, but what does it mean?”

“Well, in our team the essential element is Kenma. Not just because he’s the setter, but also because he has an incredible analytical capacity that allows him to always choose the best strategies.” Kuro looked at you for a moment and then brought his gaze in front of him again. “For this reason, he is the brain. And we, his teammates, have the responsibility to make the ball arrive at him in the best way possible, like the oxygen must flow in the blood. This way he can play to the best of his capabilities. That’s all.” The boy put his hands in his pockets.

You pondered for a moment. “I understand. It makes sense now that you say it,” you paused for a second, already smiling internally, “you surely couldn’t have been referring to yourself when you talked about the brain.” You had pronounced the sentence in a perfectly serious tone, so serious that Kuroo had needed a moment before understanding that you were teasing him.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed in a scolding tone, turning at you.

“Hey, I have never given you the permission to call me by my first name, you know?”

The boy said nothing and replied with a crafty expression instead and then turned his gaze back in front of him, sighing and walking faster, as if you weren’t there anymore.

You quickened your pace in order to keep up with him and nudged him lightly. “I was kidding. As much as I’d like to affirm the contrary, you’re not dumb.”

The boy didn’t turn at you, pretending to be offended, but slowed down his pace so that you could start walking normally again.

After a while, you arrived in front of your house. “We’re here,” you said gesturing at your house. “I still don’t get why you wanted to accompany me home since you live on the opposite side of town. It will take you forever to get home now.” You were close to your gate, the feet together and your gaze towards your shoes.

“I clearly did it because I like you. Wasn’t it obvious at this point?” the boy replied with a candour only he could muster.

You felt a clench in your stomach and raised your eyes, meeting those of the boy. For a moment you had thought that he was joking – you had always thought that the interest he had shown to you was just a friendly fondness – but his face was terribly serious.

You tried to say something, but your voice got stuck and your mouth remained half-open, without a single sound coming out of it.

“I’d like to kiss you now, y/n,” said Kuroo, his eyes intense and fixed on you.

You remained speechless once more, your breathing passing quickly in and out of your mouth.

Kuroo leaned forward – his dark eyes hadn’t left you a single instant – and kissed you. The kiss lasted about three seconds and it was a simple kiss, just a contact between your lips, but it was enough to make your head spin. Then the boy straightened himself, shot you his signature sneer and took a step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect you to be a bit more… talkative.” The sneer got bigger and even before he turned around and started walking home a red hue began to spread across your face and a smile rose slowly until your cheeks started looking like small knobs.

Part 2

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!!#kuro tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x you #clerwrites

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beca-mitchell · 4 years

Text

if you wanted to, girl, we could cross that line (1/1)

Summary: Aren't you supposed to book the wedding venue after proposing? Word count: 3,316 words Author’s Notes: I’ve been thinking about recent discussion re: Chloe and Beca's relationship. Specifically how Chloe hates it when people think Beca is some uncaring/apathetic person. Or that Beca is aloof and distant in their romantic relationship. I had some ideas about that, but then it kind of spiralled into this which I don't even know if it addresses any of that discourse at all. But. Anyway. I've been binging Friends, so yes, this is totally inspired by Season 6, episode 22 (and a little of episode 23) of Friends. Fic title from Lauv's "Feelings".

Read below or on AO3.

* * * * *

“Aubrey this place is beautiful,” Chloe gasps, looking around the high ceilings and well-decorated walls of the country club lounge. “You’re really thinking about moving The Lodge to California?”

Aubrey flips through the brochure, nodding along to Chloe’s words. “It seems like a natural choice. Would be nice to expand out here. Lots of companies need their morale boosted.”

Chloe nudges Aubrey. “I’m happy for you, you know? You’ve done so much in the past few years.”

“Chloe,” Aubrey sighs. “Thank you.”

“And I’m so glad you didn’t move to Mykonos and become a doula.”

Aubrey frowns. “I don’t remember saying that.” She flips to the next page of her brochure. “Oh! Chloe, look! They host weddings here!”

Chloe shifts to lean over Aubrey’s shoulder to examine the glossy pages. “Oh wow, I’m sure they must be beautiful here. Expensive too. Oh!” Chloe points to the next page. “They can even host guests overnight.”

“Perfect for corporate retreats,” Aubrey muses.

“Or weddings,” Chloe says, tugging Aubrey’s arm along. “Just think about it. A beautiful day...a little bit of a breeze." Chloe sighs, somewhat wistfully, lost in her own world for a moment. "You’d look beautiful in the dress I have picked out for you.”

“Oh is this your wedding we’re talking about?”

To Aubrey’s immense surprise, Chloe glances away, clearly embarrassed. “I mean. It could be anybody’s wedding. I was just. Throwing it out there. You know.”

“Were you picturing yourself in the wedding dress?”

Again, hesitation from Chloe. “...Maybe.”

Aubrey moves so she’s standing in front of Chloe. “Hey, what’s this all about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You,” Aubrey gestures with a stern tone. “Getting all weird and shy about weddings of all things.”

It wasn’t that Chloe was fanatic about weddings, it was more that Aubrey knew Chloe was a complete romantic. And passionate about literally everything, on top of that. Plus, Aubrey, in her capacity as Chloe’s de facto best friend, knew just how much Chloe wanted a fairytale wedding. It was something that some people grew out of—Aubrey would know, being all about practicality—but it was also something that followed people and nestled within their hopes and dreams like a permanent reminder of what optimism and sunshine could bring.

Chloe is the embodiment of both of those things and Aubrey is fortunate enough to have experienced such a person in her lifetime.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Chloe begins, going for nonchalance which Aubrey disregards completely. “I just. I—I’ve been dating Beca for a year and a half. And then soon it’s going to be two years. And then...more.”

“That’s how time works, usually.”

Chloe glares at her. “It’s just. Beca isn’t...I don’t think she wants to get married.”

“Has she said that to you?” Aubrey demands, surprised that even Beca of all people would have so little tact to say that to Chloe specifically. Chloe who has had her wedding planned since she was in second grade. Chloe, who would go to the ends of the earth for Beca Mitchell’s smug, talented ass.

“No! No, God, Beca is amazing. And she—” Chloe sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s what everybody thinks. Beca isn’t like that, okay? She loves me and she’s in love with me. There’s no doubt about it.” Aubrey shoots her a skeptical look. “You’re so unfair,” Chloe complains, upon seeing Aubrey’s expression. “She’s an amazing girlfriend. Honestly. Everybody thinks that she’s this distant, emotionless little...” Chloe makes a noise of frustration. “Well, she’s not. She’s passionate and beautiful and so so good at that thing she—”

“Chloe!”

Chloe blushes. “Sorry. But it’s not that. I promise.”

“Then where did...all this come from?”

“Well, I just don’t want to...freak her out.”

“Freak her out,” Aubrey echoes, contemplating the word choice and wondering whether she really does need to talk to Beca about her lack of decorum. “Has she said that to you?” she demands again.

“No!”

“Then—?”

“I just. I know I can be a lot, okay? I know that I want things too much sometimes. And that I can get loud and crazy about things. But I want to…” Chloe glances around. “I want to spend the rest of my life with Beca and I don’t want anything to mess that up.”

“Why would you two getting married mess that up?”

“Um? Hello? Has she not complained about her parents before?”

Aubrey can concede to that. “Once or twice. But I mean...we’re not all defined by our parents’ mistakes.” Chloe shoots her a look. “Okay, you know what? This isn’t about me.”

Chloe giggles, relenting. She kicks her toe against the ground, following the movement with her eyes. “I just know that Beca isn’t thinking about getting married. We just moved in together.”

“Like two months ago,” Aubrey mutters.

“More like four months ago!”

“Oh, but who’s counting?”

Chloe flashes a quick smile. “Yeah, it’s been four months hasn’t it?” She softens. “I love living with Beca. And I love L.A.! Oh—and of course I love that you’re going to be moving here.” She pulls Aubrey in for a quick hug, right in the middle of the hall. “It’s just...everything is coming together. I love my life just the way it is.”

“Chloe—”

It is that moment that a couple decides to make their way through the hall, led by a man holding a clipboard. He appears to be listing off amenities and accommodations.

“—host many weddings a year, especially during June. You are very lucky to get on the waiting list.”

Chloe, never one to really acknowledge social customs, somehow manages to insert herself into the conversation midway. “Is there a long list?” she asks conversationally, a hint of amusement in her tone. She tugs Aubrey along despite Aubrey’s attempts to mind her own business.

The wedding planner scrutinizes their intertwined hands. “Are you two ladies looking to have a wedding?”

Chloe tilts her head before turning to look at Aubrey with a glint in her eyes. “And if we are?”

“Chloe!” Aubrey hisses.

“Well, the wait list is about two years long, so you’ll have to get in line.”

* * * * *

“What was that about loving your life the way it was?”

“It wasn’t serious. I just won’t ever contact them again.”

“Yes, putting yours and Beca’s names down for a wedding venue wasn’t serious.”

“Think of it as a way to drum up some press for when you host corporate retreats there.”

“How does this help me? This absolutely in no way helps me at all.”

* * * * *

Chloe forgets about her little relapse until two weeks later. She and Beca decide to go for a nice dinner at the country club—a place where Beca can maintain some anonymity while they engage in things that Beca would prefer prying eyes to keep away from.

Namely kissing.

“You haven’t touched your dinner,” Chloe murmurs. She smiles as she catches Beca’s next kiss head-on, tilting her head ever so slightly to elicit the quietest of whimpers from Beca’s throat.

“You haven’t touched yours.”

Chloe tenses her fingers, splayed on Beca’s thigh. “Maybe I’m more interested in my dessert.”

Beca blushes immediately and clears her throat, drawing back to take in Chloe’s swollen lips and playful smile. “I’m so happy that you’re mine,” Beca drawls, reaching up to cup Chloe’s cheeks. “But you have to stop saying shit like that in public.”

“Why do I have to stop saying shit like that in public?” Chloe asks innocently, letting her lips and tongue emphasize the word shit while her hand glides further up Beca’s thigh.

Beca’s eyes darken further. She hums, leaning in to capture Chloe’s lips in another kiss. “You don’t play fair,” she complains when Chloe finally draws back and refocuses on her plate of untouched food.

“But you just get so cute and flustered,” Chloe points out. “How can I resist?”

Later, as they are leaving, Chloe barely has time to recall just why she recognizes the man walking towards them before he is greeting them both.

“Hi, Chloe, right? I just left a message on your phone earlier this evening. I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Chloe opens her mouth, recognition dawning. “Oh it’s—”

“Hi,” Beca cuts in. “What message?” she asks curiously.

“It’s nothing,” Chloe says quickly, an unpleasant heat spreading quickly through her body. “I’ll check later,” she says politely.

“Of course! It wasn’t anything serious. Just letting you know that your position on the wedding venue waitlist got bumped up because we had a few cancellations in the past two weeks. We’re looking at much sooner than two years. Probably within the next year if you want to remain on the list.”

“The what?” Beca demands. “Chloe, the—” Beca looks like her eyes might pop right out of her head. “Chloe,” she hisses, following as Chloe quickly mutters a thank-you and tugs Beca’s wrist along until they reach Chloe’s car. “What the fu—”

“Don’t curse,” Chloe whispers.

Beca presses her lips into a thin line. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Are you mad?”

“I’m just confused,” Beca murmurs, sliding into the passenger seat. “Are we getting married?”

“No!” Chloe exclaims quickly. “No, of course not—”

“Of course not?” Beca echoes. “What—”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just—it was just a dumb thing. Can we…” Chloe rests her hand on the steering wheel. “Can we talk about it when we get home?”

Beca stares out the window for a few long moments while Chloe pulls out on the main road. “Okay,” she finally agrees. “Okay, we’ll talk when we get home.”

The drive home itself is the longest and shortest of Chloe’s life. She shifts uncomfortably more than once, resisting the urge to look over at her girlfriend every two minutes. Scratch that. Every two seconds. She can’t believe that she forgot. That she wasn’t more careful. That a brief, silly moment with her best friend resulted in this. Whatever this is between herself and Beca right now.

It’s the last thing she wants, to have potentially messed something up in their life together.

When Chloe pulls into the private parking lot for their apartment complex, Chloe finds that she doesn’t want to leave the quiet of the car.

“Chlo,” Beca urges softly. “Let’s go inside.”

“I just wanted to see what it was like,” Chloe blurts, too stricken to restrain herself any longer. “I’m sorry.”

Beca reaches out to hold her hand across the console like Chloe wishes she had done during the drive home. The comforting feeling of Beca’s hand in her own makes Chloe look up, finally meeting Beca’s eyes for the first time since leaving the country club.

“Let’s just go inside,” Beca repeats, squeezing her hand.

Chloe hates that she feels too frazzled to correctly read Beca’s expression. She can’t figure out just what Beca is feeling or thinking and she hates that. She hates not knowing the one person she feels like she knows better than any other person on Earth.

“So...like.” Beca exhales, taking the keys from Chloe’s hands and placing them in their little shared bowl. “What did you mean? You just wanted to see what it was like? How do you just see what it’s like to reserve a wedding venue?”

Chloe bites her lip, still afraid to meet Beca’s eyes. She focuses instead on the flowery B&C engraving on their key bowl. It warms her. Comforts her. “I mean...it’s not really a wedding venue. It’s just a country club,” she points out evasively.

Beca snorts. “Where weddings are sometimes hosted.”

“Well. Yeah.”

“And you specifically put your name down—our names down—for a wedding. Sometime in the future.”

Chloe groans at that, covering her face with her hands. “Aubrey pressured me into it,” she lies, wondering if Beca will believe that.

Beca stifles a smile, instead choosing to step closer to Chloe in order to pry her hands from her face. “I bet she did.”

“You’re freaking out,” Chloe mumbles from behind her hands, though she does part two fingers in order to peer at Beca. “You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

“I mean...I was,” Beca admits. “That was kind of…” Beca ponders her word choice. “Sudden,” she finally says with a delicate tone.

Chloe sighs. “I know it freaks you out when I do...stuff like that.”

At that, Beca frowns. “Do stuff like what?”

“I don’t know. Think about the future. Talk about this kind of stuff.”

Beca’s heart seizes for the briefest of moments. “I don’t want you to think that I’m not…” she swallows. “That I’m not, like, into that. Because I am.” She reaches for Chloe’s hands, pulling gently. “With you.” She bites her lower lip. “I hadn’t thought about it much before you, but it—” Beca laughs, a little breathlessly. “It drives me crazy that we haven’t talked about it, you know?”

“I just thought you weren’t…” Chloe shrugs, though her heart pounds at all of the words Beca has just thrown at her. “That it wasn’t something you wanted.”

“That was before you,” Beca reiterates.

Chloe feels a flush rising up her neck and spreading into her cheeks rapidly. ��Beca…”

Beca, to her credit, does not flinch nor shy away. Chloe has been privileged enough to get to know this side of Beca over the past year and a half and especially over the past four months of living together. She is smitten and completely head-over-heels for Beca Mitchell and she doesn’t care if anybody knows that. That being said, she completely understands that Beca might not necessarily be the same, at least in terms of expressing herself outwardly (“Love languages are a thing, Beca!”) but she has never doubted that Beca cares for her. Loves her, even.

Beca is in love with her.

The thought only makes her blush again and offer a shy, demure smile at Beca who merely looks perplexed at the sudden change in mood. “What?” Beca asks quickly. “What is it? What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Chloe chimes in, shifting so that she can wrap an arm around Beca’s shoulders. “Well, not nothing. For you, that was basically a public and cheesy romantic gesture. Like declaration-on-a-billboard level.”

Beca scrunches her nose. “What was?”

Chloe pecks her quickly, enjoying how squirmy Beca is becoming in her arms. “You saying that you think about the future with me.”

“I don’t know if I said it exactly like that.”

“A little like that,” Chloe pushes. She leans in to kiss Beca slowly, letting her breath linger against Beca’s mouth. “A little bit,” she murmurs when she feels Beca take a breath, likely to protest again.

“Okay, maybe I did.”

Chloe relaxes completely, wondering how she got so lucky to fall in love with her perfect match; how she got so lucky to find her soulmate in a world full of people who refused to believe in love like she did. That was a relatively painless conversation, resulting in some unexpected results. Namely that Chloe had been the only one standing in the way of this much-needed conversation, but also that Beca Mitchell wanted to marry her.

The thought only makes Chloe deepen her kiss, eliciting a noise of surprise from Beca. They kiss for a few more moments, hands beginning to wander more boldly and surely as their kisses deepen with each passing second. Beca groans when Chloe’s hands slip under the front of her shirt, fingers scraping up her stomach with purpose.

“Are we still talking about this?” Beca asks, snagging Chloe’s lower lip between her teeth.

Chloe hums, tilting her head to capture Beca’s lips in another kiss. “That can wait.”

“I mean,” Beca begins breathlessly, allowing Chloe to steer her towards the bedroom. “You are next on the waitlist.”

Chloe is already unbuttoning her jeans. “You talk way too much. Shut up, now. I want you.”

* * * * *

Another two weeks later and Chloe has all but forgotten about that wedding venue mishap, too caught up in the motions of her own hectic life and just how good her relationship with Beca has become. She hadn’t thought it possible, but she falls more for Beca every day.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend is ditching me to hang out with my best friend,” Chloe pouts. “This is so unfair. My two favorite people.”

“You could come,” Beca laughs.

“No, you know I have a long shift today.” Chloe sighs. “I’ll miss you. Say hi to Aubrey for me. I know she’s been busy setting up work stuff. Ask her if she needs our help.”

“I will ask her if she needs your help,” Beca says obediently.

“Our help,” Chloe corrects, leaning down to kiss Beca on the lips. “See you!”

Chloe heads out the door, without much thought as to the rest of her day.

Beca waits until she hears complete silence, then she waits for another few minutes estimating how long it would take Chloe to get into her car and drive.

Beca she’s gone, hurry up and get over here

Aubrey Rude. On my way.

Beca rushes to get ready in preparation for her day with Aubrey.

“What did you think of the place?” Aubrey asks when Beca climbs into the car. “Did you like the photos?”

“Yeah, but I kind of want to see it for myself. In person.”

Aubrey scoffs. “Chloe has amazing taste and so do I. We would never lead you astray.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Forgive me for wanting to see the place where I want to get married myself.”

“Beca, you don’t exactly strike me as the kind of person—”

Beca resists the urge to completely snap at Aubrey or say something snarky to cut off the other woman. She fiddles with the small box inside her jacket pocket before she pulls it out, running her fingers along the velvet surface. She smiles at the thought of Chloe’s expression—what her imagination provides at least—and suddenly she can’t quite wait another moment. She wants to marry Chloe immediately. She wants everything that she always thought she’d hate because of her parents’ own failed marriage. She wants that life and that future with Chloe and she wants it because she knows it’ll work.

It will work because they love each other.

Aubrey gasps loudly, pulling the car off to the side of the road and throwing her hazard lights on. “Beca! You didn’t!” She all but snatches the box from Beca’s grasp, both of them tussling over it for a brief moment before Aubrey finally shoves her shoulder and displaces Beca back into her seat. “Oh my God, you actually bought a ring. Without talking to me. Beca! How could you!”

“I didn’t know I needed your permission to buy a ring.”

Aubrey ignores her, opening the box. Her eyes widen comically and if Beca’s heart weren’t completely in her throat because it is now dawning on Beca that she absolutely craves Aubrey’s approval, Beca would laugh. But she doesn’t. She waits with bated breath as Aubrey lifts the ring closer to her face, eyes practically glittering.

“Are you...okay?” Beca asks. Is it okay? she wants to ask, but refrains.

“This is...beautiful, Beca. This is so beautiful.”

Beca exhales, feeling an entire year’s worth of tension leave her body. “For real? Like you’re not just...saying that, right?”

“No, Beca, I’m not just saying that. This is beautiful. And...and I’m so happy for you.” Aubrey presses the ring back into Beca’s hands before moving to grip the steering wheel with determination.

Beca waits, watching Aubrey for a long moment before she speaks up again. “Are we gonna go, or—?”

“I just need a moment to collect myself.”

“Oh, okay.” Beca flips the box open again, smiling at the ring. “Take all the time you need.”

She has never been more ready.

fin.

#bechloe #pitch perfect #chloe beale #beca mitchell #mine #my fanfic #bechloe fic #fanfiction

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idontknowijuststartedsomething · 4 years

Text

Gravity, Ghost, and Gems

Part 4/???

The Mystery Duo

(Also any weird spacing or spelling is intentional cuz I wanted it to feel like dialogue from the show)

“Dad, do we really have to spend the whole summer at some lame scientist convention. I bet half those guys wouldn’t even acknowledge the real scientific work I’m doing!”

Gaz stares at her brother with contempt for about the eightieth time since they got in the car.

“Oh no son, only I get to go to the science convention. You and your sister will be staying in the town near the science convention. For the. w h o l e s u m m e r. And by near I mean 90 miles away”

“What?!” Dib sprang up from the back seat of the car. “So than why did we have to come? With Zim gone for months I could spend this time getting into his filthy base and learning all his filthy alien secretssssss.”

“ I thought it’d be good for you to get out of the house and experience other things. Also the convention discounts my ticket if I say I have a child in some proximity to me near.”

“Well is there anything to do in this town?”

“As far as I can tell ,no. But at least you’ll taste the fresh woodland air, and get to spend more time with Foodio in the hotel room! Don’t worry kids, I’ll come down from Portland every once in a while to say hello. Just hello.”

Membrane litterally sped off into the distance after he threw his kids and their luggage outside the car. Dib though it was amazing how he could drive so fast and not hit anything, considering this town was really small and compact, with only a few main shops and one shady hotel.

“I’m just glad Zim is away at that InvaderCON in space.”

“Will you be quite for once?”

The hotel room was about what you’d expect from looking at the outside of the building, except ten times worse. As far as Dib could tell he and Gaz were the only actual hotel guests, and the room reflected that. Despite being under the Northwest name, this place didn’t look much better than Skool. After sitting around watching the two TV stations that were available, Dib finally decide he’d had enough and set out to explore the town.

“Some thing is a miss in this town Gaz! Some thing, supernatural. This town is way to normal to be normal. I can smell it, Gaz!”

“I can smell your BO.”

Despite Membrane’s orders that the stay together, Gaz made it very clear she wanted to be left alone with her games. This gave Dib the perfect opportunity to go exploring on his own and sniff out the town’a secrets(if it had any) by himself. He went into a few of the shops on Main Street, and the people seemed nice enough, if not more than a little eccentric. As he made his way down the street he saw a rather odd sight, which for him is saying something. A kid, probably a little older than him, was dancing on the street corner in some costume that looked like a question mark.

“Hey, quick question. Why are you dancing like an moron and dressed like an even bigger moron?” The kid in the costume seemed relieved that Dib said that, since it meant he could drop his weird act.

“I’m supposed to advertise this place I just got a job at. ‘Come to the Mystery Shack, where the worse fears of you and your wallet lie’”. He did a little dance again and handed Dib a flyer.

“A Mystery Shack! That sounds perfect! Just the place to learn the dark inner workings of this unassuming town!”

“Yeah are you done yet kid I’ve got a job to do.” Dib sprinted deep into the woods without answering, and Danny only hoped that his stupid dance didn’t set that kids expectations too high.

Dib followed the signs stapled onto trees, making his way deeper and deeper into the ever darkening woods. Then, he saw it. The rustic building in the middle of nowhere seemed like the perfect place for dark secrets to hide. He didn’t even mind the hokey signs all over the place, until he got inside. His excitement for the truly paranormal faded as soon as he took one look at some of the exhibits in the gift shop. The corn-o-corn? Really? And that thing in glass was obviously a monkey torso poorly stitched to a fish tail. “Ah, come on! Where’s the real paranormal exhibits. Does no one here want real?!” He shouted to the other gift shop patrons, but none of them seemed to care.

“Sorry dude. Nothing’s every really real at the Mystery Shack. I’m amazed Grunkle Stan was able to trick people for so long.” A kid in a blue hat and vest and about Dib’s height appeared behind him.

“Oh so all that stuff was just cheap advertising?”

“You couldn’t tell by the guy in the question costume?”

Dib scrunched up his face and tossed the flyer in disappointment. The kid next to him sort of felt bad, and with quick thinking offered a solution.

“Ya know, I do know a thing or two about real paranormal stuff in this town. Maybe I can show you some of it.”

“Really?” Dib’s face lit up.

“Uh huh. I’m kinda considered the big paranormal investigator in town.” A girl’s laugh came from the other room.

“Thank goodness there’s some real stuff in this town. And I thought I was the only one who could see through the noise. Seek the truth when the truth isn’t there. Could find the diamond under all..”

“Ok calm down dude. If you want I can show you around town. I also have some stuff in my room that’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah sure. It feels nice to meet a fellow believer. I’m Dib, by the way”

“Dipper Pines. Nice to meet you”

#gravity ghosts and gems #dib membrane #dib #dipper pines #gravity falls #invader zim #danny phantom #steven universe #see I told you they’d get here #gravity falls mable #mable pines #gaz membrane #professor membrane #fanfic #phanfiction

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 5 years

Text

Return Her pt. 1

The Company (and friends) x Reader

Not being from Middle Earth has brought you some amazing moments, but this should’ve been expected.

You knew going into Mirkwood after Gandalf’s warnings was a horrible idea, but for some reason you didn’t think to stay behind.

First everyone went nuts, yourself included (you could barely remember your own name at some points, it was ridiculous). Then there were the spiders, thankfully you got to avoid being webbed up by those disgusting arachnids but you got lost on your way to help.

By some luck you found everyone while they were attempting to leave their confines of the webbing, but then the spiders came back so your luck didn’t feel so good anymore.

You guys kill a bunch, Kili gets separated… oh, and there is also the elves who are speaking in their own tongue.

The blond elf who appeared to be the leader of this merry group of losers was talking about one of the swords you all acquired after everyone was searched (the only thing they found on you was a small weapon and your backpack from home, also a smack to the hand that was frisking you) when he noticed you.

The male elf mouthing off to Thorin stops his little liar thief speech abruptly though when his eyes fall on you and your strange clothes and weird colorful backpack held by the elf who searched you.

“You. Come here.“

Uh oh.

Simply staring at him dumbly for a few moments, you turn your head from side to side and then point at yourself. “M-Me?”

He nods his head once, annoyance and a trace of amusement showing on his face. You twiddle your thumbs together and shrug your shoulders, taking a step forward only for a large hand to pull you back, “What do you want with her, pointy eared freak!” Hisses Dwalin next to you

The elf says nothing and continues to stare you down.

Everyone is looking between the two of you at this point, and you begin to feel that all to familiar mixture of anxiousness and awkwardness creeping up on you. “Um… I’d rather not…”

He still stares, as if he’s looking into your very soul. “I will not repeat myself.” Now he just looks annoyed.

You huff indignantly and shake Dwalin’s hand off your shoulder, “Fine! Whatever.”

You shuffle over awkwardly, ignoring the protesting of some of the others as you go to stand next to Thorin and in front of him.

His intense blue eyes drill holes into you as he sizes you up, “An odd human girl with 13 dwarves. Clothes I’ve never seen before and a bag that is otherworldly. Interesting.” You do your best to hold his gaze, keeping your face as blank as possible.

“That isn’t any of your concern.” Thorin states next to you, but the elf still doesn’t turn his leer from you.

So what do you do?

What you do best.

“Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Your expression doesn’t change as you say this, face remaining neutral as he falters.

Ding ding, Y/N 1, this guy 0.

“Excuse me?” He looks to be shocked by what you say, but you only shrug your shoulders as some of the others behind you laugh.

But your witty victory is short lived because now everyone is being hauled off to some elf kingdom where you’re sure Santa must live.

When you go to rejoin the others though, the blond elf puts a hand on your shoulder and states in a demanding tone, “You stay with me.”

Thorin turns quickly upon hearing that, “Leave her be, elf! She is one of us, and she will remain by our sides.” Some of the others shout their agreement.

The elf doesn’t listen.

And thats how you end up trailing behind the tall elf right in front of you while some of the others (Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, some others) look back to make sure you’re still there from time to time.

It warms your little ole heart! If only you weren’t all being led to imprisonment that is.

When the elf palace (you aren’t quite sure what else to call it) comes into view, it takes your breath away. Yeah, these guys are kinda assholes, but the architecture is astounding!

You couldn’t keep the awe from showing on your face, and when the elf glances back at you he chuckles. “Never seen an elvish structure before?”

You saw Rivendell which was also lovely, but they’re both beautiful in their own ways you suppose.

Yeah this guy is the enemy, but you just can’t keep yourself from mumbling how stunning it all is. He laughs again, seemingly a bit more friendly towards you than your dwarven companions, and continued on his way.

Upon entering the structure, you find that the outside is not nearly as awe-inspiring as the inside though.

The twisting trees and twinkling lights inside mesmerize you. It’s so grand, you almost forget that these elves are basically abducting you from your company by keeping you separated so far from them.

Your eyes fall upon the red-headed elf who helped out Kili, and your mouth runs before you can stop it. “Woah, shes freaking gorgeous."

At your sudden speech the blond male elf guy looks down at you with confusion, his eyebrows knitted together. "What?"

"Er, your friend over there is really pretty.” You restate, looking away as a flush darkens your face.

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before said she-eld falls into step with you and the blond.

She says something in that Elvish language of theirs and looks down at you, and once again you speak before thinking.

“Excuse me, do you have a map? Because I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost in your eyes.” It’s cheesy where you’re from, but here you’re a damn poetic genius.

Her face tints red at your words and she looks up at the blond guy briefly before looking at you again, “I-I’m sorry?"

"Oh, forgive me that was so forward. I just can’t help myself around someone so lovely.” Yeah, you’re laying it on thick, and it seems to be working in your favor pretty well cause she’s blushing and- oh, is that flattery you see?

“I don’t think I’ve ever been addressed in such a way…” She states breathlessly, looking at Mr. Blond again.

“How is that possible? My dear you have got to be the most beautiful-"

"Y/N!” Thorin states sharply, looking at you completely baffled (and he’s not the only one).

A pout comes to your face at the one word scolding, but you get the hint. “Man… Freaking Thorin…"

You look straight ahead and ignore the glares and confusion from your friends, crossing your arms over your chest as you continue to walk along silently.

"What a cute little thing.” She comments after a moment of observing your sulky form, reaching down to ruffle your hair. And, embarrassingly enough, you find yourself leaning into her touch slightly.

Hell yeah, this bitch is in. Maybe too much…

Yeah she actually is drop dead gorgeous, but you’ve gotta get these fools trust so you can crush them later. It’s essential to your 45 step escape plan.

“Me?” You ask, actually feeling a bit nervous to be getting as good as you gave. “C-Cute?"

There’s no time to answer verbally, because suddenly they split the group into Thorin, and everyone else, but you can see from their faces that it was meant to be taken seriously. You remain standing with the elves, a bit shy and confused as to why you haven’t been led to the others yet.

Some of them give you looks of concern, but you only flash bright smiles each time you make eye contact with someone. You can tell a few of them are annoyed with your lack of fear for the situation, but you hold onto the hope that Thorin will use his brain.

You break away from the elves and begin to follow after where the majority of the group is headed, but a firm hand landing on your shoulder stops you in place.

Glancing up at the blond elf, he only shakes his head, "You will go with him”, he nods his head over to Thorin.

The confusion shows clearly on your face, but you listen regardless and change your course as you join the leader of the group.

When you step up beside him, he looks at you with deep set confusion, “Why are you not with the others?"

All you do is shrug in response.

And then the two of you are being brought before the king.

At least that’s what the blond elf said because all you see is a woman on a chair-

Oh, wait. No, no, that is the King.

Turns out, you’re quite the jokester because you make yourself laugh with this line of thinking which earns you a sharp look from Thorin and two pairs of confused elf eyes on you.

You clamp your mouth shut and shrug your shoulders again, and then you and Thorin are being left with the elf king.

When he gets up from his chair you’re shocked by how tall he is. Even the other elf who was bossing you around doesn’t reach the height that he does.

When he begins to talk to Thorin about things you care little for, your gaze wanders away to view the lovely scene before you. The structure of this place is simply amazing. There is nothing like this from your home, all you had were huge neighborhoods, strip malls, and google images that provided you with things not even half as pretty as this.

While you gaze around someone clears their throat which effectively breaks you out of your little trance.

You turn your attention back towards Thorin and the large (and very pretty) elf quee-king.

Much to your dismay they’re both staring at you expectantly.

You blink your eyes a few times and stare dumbly as you rack your brain for any clue as to what just occurred, but you only draw a blank. "Um… ‘sup?” Thats all you could come up with? Really?

You mentally berate yourself for not paying attention, but it only seems to amuse the blond guy. “Interesting. You are not from here, are you?” He asks curiously. Thorin’s expression is sharp, and your eyes lock on him for a moment because you don’t know how much to reveal.

He shakes his head.

“Well obviously not. I’m a human. Have you not seen my ears? Or my height? Or anything?” Your sarcasm earns a snort of amusement from Thorin, but it seems that the king only found your sarcasm funny as well.

“You know what I mean. And the look you two shared only answers my question for me.”

You release a long and over dramatic sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well.. It’s not your business where I’m from. So stop being lame and let us leave."

He stopped listening though and turned back to Thorin, "Where did you find such a person? Because I can most definitely tell that she is not from Middle Earth.”

Thorin only turns his head away and responds to something else probably stated while you were busy. He starts ranting about abandonment and how he wasn’t helped. He yells something in one of their languages, and then Thranduil is all up in his face.

“Do not talk to me of dragon fire! I know… its wrath and ruin.” The king makes a weird face and you find yourself become uncomfortable as his face warps and reveals horribly scarred skin.

“I have faced… the great serpents of the North.” He then steps back and stops leaning over as his skin quickly returns to normal. “I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. But he would not listen. You are just like him.”

Two guards seize him suddenly and you protest loudly, “Hey! Leave him alone!” You only get ignored.

“Stay here if you will… and rot.” They start dragging him down the stairs and you move to follow after, but the booming voice of King Thranduil stops you. “Not you. You stay where you are."

Thorin yells at him in his tongue, then yells out in an outrage, "She comes with me!” He only gets hauled further away as you look between him and the blond elf who is standing at the steps to his throne.

You take a few steps forward towards where Thorin is being dragged off to, but your arm is grabbed and yanked back towards him harshly.

The king under the mountain continues to rage on until he disappears out of your sight, the hand on your arm not releasing you even after he is gone.

You turn a glare up at the king and snatch your arm away, “What do you want? I have nothing to say to you!”

He only smooths his robes back down and steps away. "You and I have much to discuss…“

Thorin regains his composure long before he reaches the dungeon down below, not wanting to alert his company of his obvious distress. Though he does brood more than usual and the constant scowl on his features immediately worries those looking upon him.

"Where’s Y/N?” Is the first thing he hears after he’s shoved into his own cell. He looks over towards the area the question came from and sees Kili standing there with his hands on the bars.

“That pointy eared pixie wouldn’t let her come here with me.”

Someone exclaims their anger loudly in a cell not far from his, but he only continues. “That elvish garbage refused to let her come with me, and when she tried to follow he grabbed her arm as if he had any right-!” He cuts himself off and sits down, hands clenched into fists as he thinks about it.

The others yell out their own anger at that, and then Ori speaks up softly, “What does he want with ‘er? She’s only a human…"

Balin speaks up next, "Does he want to know about where she’s from…? Perhaps that be the reason right there! She speaks oddly and her clothes are suspicious”

Nobody wanted to even think about that. If you refused to give them the answers they wanted, what would they do?

Everyone is undoubtedly sharing the same dark and worrying thoughts.

“Mahal…"

They all understand the feeling.

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animetrashlord-007 · 4 years

Text

M.I;; Chapter Seven

Word Count;; 4.3k

Genre;; Fluff, Suggestive, Eventual Smut, Slowburn

Pairing;; Oikawa x Ushijima

Side Pairing;; Kuroo x Sugawara

Summary;;

Them boys eat cake.

Published;; 08.14.18

Notes;;

My Masterlist

Mutual Interests Masterlist

It was two o’clock in the afternoon and the cafeteria was bustling. Students congregated in small groups and the noise level continued to rise as people poured into the large, open space. Most teachers chose this time slot for their meal break so the majority of students followed suit. Since it was one of the few times everyone in the group had available most days, they often joined in on the lunch rush madness.

Kuroo and Oikawa were bickering over something inconsequential, as per usual. Ushijima stared between the two, taking small bites of his hayashi rice. He had planned to wait for them, since that was the polite thing to do, but it became obvious pretty early on that his food would go cold before they settled down enough to eat.

“I was being a bro and this is how you repay me.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“I did a quick tidy up in my room and freshened up the place before you arrived and gave you time and space. The ultimate bro move.”

“You call that a tidy up?! Your side of the dorm was a pigsty! How can you say it was for me? If you weren’t being a pervert, I wouldn’t have had to go to your bed in the first place!”

“Well, I’m a little too busy to make the bed everyday, you know.”

Ushijima nodded at the approaching figure, clearing off the garbage from the table and brushing off the empty seat beside him. Oikawa and Kuroo continued their conversation, their tones rising to match the volume of the rest of the student body. Ushijima held back a sigh. Weariness doubled the effort and drained the limited energy he had. He took another bite of his rice.

“What, too busy screwing Suga?”

“Ah, but Oikawa-san, you misunderstood the situation.” Kuroo, who was just about to respond as well, slammed his mouth shut and turned to face their approaching friend. Suga’s warm smile was contagious and soon the entire group perked up. Ushijima pat the seat next to him, a silent plea to the setter to sit between him and the others. “We weren’t having sex.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo piped in. “You could have come in.”

“As if!”

“It was just some light BDSM. What’s a few spanks between friends?”

Suga laughed, though his smile no longer reached his eyes. “Kuroo is just a really good friend. He’s straight, after all.”

“Exactly. See, he gets it. It was just some fun between friends.” Slapping his knee, Kuroo cooed at Suga and called out to him as one would a pet, drawing out his words and blowing small kisses at the end of his sentences, “Now come here, sweetie pie. We missed you.”

With his wide smile and twinkling, sweet eyes, Suga slapped Kuroo upside the head before sitting next to Ushijima.

“Ouch! You’re gonna leave me by myself? Sugar buns? My lollipop? Baby cakes?”

“You’re not by yourself, Kuroo-san. Oikawa-san is right next to you.”

Kuroo chuckled, swivelling around to face his usual target, mischief brewing in his eyes. Following Oikawa’s groan and pointed glare at Suga (who threw up a peace sign in response and started eating), the two delved back into their usual bullshit.

“Cheer up, plum pudding. I’ll let you sit on my lap if you’d like.”

“Stop calling people weird names!”

“Honey bear, do you need a hug?”

“Get lost, Kuroo-chan!” The two began to wrestle, Oikawa throwing off Kuroo’s arm while Kuroo inched closer and closer to the setter. It wasn’t until Suga was taking a sip of his drink and the table slammed against him, spilling the drink onto his shirt, that the two stopped. The fearsome aura Suga exuded was enough to stop even the heartiest person dead in their tracks. With a smug laugh, Oikawa continued, “No one wants you around, not even Mr. Refreshing, sweetum.”

“I can’t believe you’re angry at me just because you wasted your chance to fuck Ushijima.”

There was absolute silence at the table for seven seconds, just enough time for the words to be processed. Once everyone was back on the same page and Kuroo’s implication was explicitly understood, the floodgates of Hell were about to shatter.

Ushijima choked on some grains of rice, coughing and spluttering as he reached for his water bottle, a tinge of red on his cheeks that matched his watering eyes. Suga, who had been in the middle of pointless small talk with the ace, let his jaw hit the ground while snapping around to face the others, shock written plain as day across his features.

“Not again,” Ushijima managed to gasp out between gulps.

“Again…?”

“Are you telling me again that I need to bone Bakatoshi?” The air chilled around the group as a murderous atmosphere surrounded Oikawa, his eyes darkening and all traces of his cheerful facade erased.

“Again?!” Suga squeaked, looking between each of the boys while slapping Ushijima’s back.

“Yeah, because you need a good dicking, you little bit-”

“Kuroo-chan,” - a shiver ran down Suga’s spine at the whispered words, the air around them further darkening - “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Ushijima knew he wouldn’t get around the table fast enough to stop them before they embarrassed themselves in front of a large majority of the school. He also knew that his energy was too low to keep them both in check right now, especially after the effort it took just last night when he felt somewhat less crappy than he did right now. What he fully understood, though, was that he had to do his best to stop them anyway. That’s what friends do, after all.

And it was in this moment that Ushijima knew there was a heaven as four angels descended upon the group, their bright eyes dancing in anticipation as they bounced and skipped and beamed at the boys. Soft, gentle smiles greeted them and their voices were melodic and calm. Giggles erupted between them as shy glances were exchanged.

“We’re sorry to disturb you!” One of the girls started, twirling her black hair between her fingers, oblivious to the scene that had been playing out only seconds prior.

“We saw you from across the way and, well…” the brunette on the right chimed in, trailing off when she made eye contact with Oikawa who was already back in character, his face brightening as he watched them each in turn.

“I made extra treats today and thought…” the second brunette added but also fell victim to his heartstopping smile and gorgeous chocolate eyes.

“Oikawa-san, you like milk bread, right?” It was the black-haired girl again. She was more confident in herself, voice nor gaze wavering as she spoke. “Ushijima-san, Kuroo-san, there’s plenty for you as well. Cookies and cupcakes, too, if milk bread isn’t your thing.”

“And some for you too, cutie,” the tallest girl in the group, the leader if her strong tone and protective stance in front of the others was anything to go by, winked at Suga as she placed the bag of goodies on the table. She had short, wavy blue hair with dark roots peeking out at the top, a few black strands braided from her fringe and pinned to the back. She was spunky and cute, the type of woman that would never put up with Oikawa’s bullshit, and was obviously doing this for her friends.

“Thank you so much! You’re all so sweet and beautiful!” Oikawa grinned, jumping from his seat to stand next to them. He towered over the girls, even the leader, which in turn caused the two shy brunettes to back away and hide further behind their friends. Honing in on this, Oikawa smiled at them and asked their names, opening the gate for mindless chatter and casual flirtations.

Kuroo pretended to gag as he listened to Oikawa and his honeyed, fake words before joining the new group, wrapping an arm around Oikawa’s shoulder and nodding along with him. There were a few others around the room (mainly women) that allowed their curious eyes to land and linger on the group, gaping at how smooth the two men came across. Charisma oozed off their tongues, lulling their admirers further into a trance.

“So… again, huh?” Suga murmured, his volume low enough to avoid being overheard.

“Yes. That’s part of the reason they started fighting last night. Kuroo is having too much fun riling Oikawa up and Oikawa is stressed over something. He’s letting his guard down and letting it get to him. The idea that he wants to sleep with me is absurd, but Oikawa isn’t himself lately and is allowing the idea to fester and irritate him.”

“Or maybe he wants hot, angry, hate sex.”

Once again caught in a coughing fit, Ushijima smacked his fist against his chest, a blush reddening his ears. Suga laughed, the sound loud and joyous, gaining a curious look from the girls. He waved them off and as soon as their attention was focused elsewhere, Suga nudged and prodded the ace, raising his eyebrows in a rapid, suggestive notion.

“Not you, too, Sugawara-san. That’s exactly what Kuroo said…” Ushijima sighed and let his head fall against the table.

“You sure are taking it in stride.”

"It’s all speculation created for the sole purpose of upsetting Oikawa. It’s baseless.”

“Hmm, true. I guess the real question is, would you do it if it were true?” Ushijima didn’t respond. He didn’t want to provide any more ammunition but that didn’t stop Suga from taking it how he wanted. “You’re a super trooper, Ushijima-san! A real man! No wonder he wants to sleep with you!”

“Who wants to sleep with that idiot?” Oikawa hissed as he slithered into his seat, his eyes sharp like knives as he glowered at Suga.

“You,” Suga sneered, pointing his finger at the brunet.

“I know where you sleep, Suga-chan!” Oikawa laughed, taking a bite of the milk bread left behind by the girls who had since disappeared.

Slapping Oikawa’s back, Kuroo fell into the seat beside him. He slung his arm around his shoulder once more and tugged the setter to his chest. “Listen, Oikawa, I think we should be each other’s wingmen. You’re hot. I’m hotter. We’re loveable, at least until they get to know you better. We’re perfect for each other.”

“Honestly, I hate to admit it, but you’re not wrong about us making a good team. Very wrong about who’s hotter. The other stuff, though? I’ll give it to you. And yet here I am” - grabbing Kuroo’s wrist and bending it backwards, Oikawa waited until the blocker cried out in pain before flinging his arm away - “preferring to die rather than spend unnecessary time with you.”

“Geez, when did you become so violent? Stop spending so much time with Suga!”

“Get lost.”

“Yeah, get lost, sweetie,” Suga snapped.

“Fine, fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted. You’ll miss me soon enough, anyway. Bye-bye Ushijima, see you back at the dorms.”

With a wave, he departed, stopping to chat with a few members of the volleyball team on the way out of the cafeteria. Now that the aggravator had left, both Suga and Oikawa calmed down, placid smiles resting on their faces as they chatted. Their lunch break was coming to an end and Ushijima was considering taking a nap instead of attending their study session when he felt someone tug at his shirt. Blinking twice, he tried to refocus and clear his bleary eyes, yawning in the process.

“Ushijima-san, are you okay?”

“I think…” Oikawa started, squinting as he observed the ace. “I think he got brain damage from that shelf.”

“Don’t joke like that!”

“I’m okay, thank you for your concern.”

“So boring! Why couldn’t it have rewritten his personality and made him fun!”

“That’s what we say about you, Oikawa-san!”

“‘We’ as in you and your lover?”

“How many times do I have to tell you it isn’t like that!”

“He called you Koushi. That seems a bit intimate, especially given the circumstance. Wouldn’t you agree, Bakatoshi?”

“Perhaps. But you call me-”

“See? We all agree. You’ve hit rock bottom, Suga.”

“For the last time - we’re not dating!”

“That’s worse, Suga-chan. It truly is an act of desperation. A cry for help, even. Do you need someone to talk to? Because Ushijima is right here and he’s a great listener. It’s one of his only strong points. Just don’t expect a meaningful reply.”

“You’re such a dick, Oikawa-san! Be more considerate of his feelings!”

“It’s fine, Sugawara-san. I’m used to it,” Ushijima shrugged, indifference and exhaustion etched into every fiber of his being.

“You’re trying to change the subject, aren’t you? Everything you do makes me think you’re on a downward spiral.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Suga muttered under his breath, his hands covering his face as he tried to regulate his breathing and let the other setter’s words roll off his back.

“Idiot 1, comfort Idiot 2 while I go find Kuroo.” Oikawa nodded to himself as he stood. He pointed a long finger at Ushijima and tutted. “Do us all a favour and just listen to him, don’t try to speak. You’re shit at it.”

“I can’t decide who I want to kill more. Ushijima-san, let’s change schools.” Suga looked up at the ace once they were alone. When he saw Ushijima’s lip twitch and a small chuckle echo from within his chest, Suga continued, “Or at the very least, let’s ditch those two and become roommates instead.”

“I’m worried they might do something illegal if left unsupervised.”

“Ha! That’s a good point.”

They finished their food in comfortable silence. Once they cleaned off the table and divided the baked goods into fourths, they left the cafeteria and walked toward their usual study spot: the library. The librarian seemed pleased at the lack of the rowdier two members of the group, offering additional, friendlier help. It was a nice change. The peace and quiet was more than welcome but the group felt lacking at the same time.

Settling down in their preferred seats and pulling out their respective textbooks, both of the boys read and studied in silence. Ushijima didn’t need any help with the current curriculum and Suga was working several weeks ahead. It was a relaxed session, with the two chatting on occasion and sharing their cookies and drinks. After a few hours passed, Ushijima closed his books and packed up his supplies. A headache was starting to fog his already exhausted mind.

“Are we done?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Ushijima-san.”

“Sugawara-san… I apologise for earlier. I should have been quicker to respond to you and given you a proper explanation.”

“Huh?”

“You were obviously concerned and when Kuroo-san and Oikawa-san didn’t answer, I should have taken it upon myself to answer instead. We were all tired but that’s no excuse. I hope you can forgive us all.”

Suga scratched his head, a nervous bead of sweat rolling down his temple while he watched Ushijima bow in apology, the whole situation becoming too formal and stuffy. “It’s fine, honestly. I hope you can forgive my outburst as well.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t apologise for those jerks, though. They don’t deserve you as a friend-”

“Well, well, well. Look at you studious nerds,” Kuroo chuckled, walking behind Suga and placing his arms around his neck, resting his chin on the setter’s head.

“You have no room to talk, Kuroo-san. You have a hard-on for Chemistry.” Kuroo scoffed, placing his hand over Suga’s heart in mock pain and pretending to cry. Knocking his hand away, Suga glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, “Where’s Oikawa?”

“Why would I know?” Suga and Ushijima shared an exasperated glance. “I haven’t seen him since I was banished by you all.”

“I’ve decided, Ushijima-san. I’m going to kill Oikawa.”

Oikawa strolled into his dorm an hour later, his skin glowing and bright. His face was void of stress. No longer wearing a mask (in both a metaphorical and literal sense. The green tea soothing essence masks he bought last month do wonders), his face was relaxed and smooth. He hummed to himself as he put away his spa bag. Once settled in, he acknowledged the simmering ball of fury in the corner of the room. He never made eye contact with Suga’s two oversized bodyguards, both of whom waited behind the silver-haired setter, one with a frown and the other a smirk.

“What’s wrong with you? Did Ushijima speak or something?”

“How did your talk with Kuroo go? You know, the one where you were going to lecture him and belittle him like you did me. Or maybe, and I know it’s a long shot, you’d grow up a little and work out that petty bullshit between the two of you?”

“Oh! I forgot about that!” Oikawa’s eyes widened as he tilted his head toward the blocker, the words bouncing off the tip of his tongue. “Kuroo-chan, you’re trash and Suga deserves better.” Flashing a peace sign and a large, fake smile, he looked at Suga again. “All done!”

“I told you I’m way better than him,” Kuroo snickered, shifting on his feet.

“I know I deserve better, which is why I’d never date him! How many times do I need to say this?!”

“Oi, I’m right here!”

“Did you work out your issues, then?”

“I have no issues!”

“Stop lying!”

“Like you can talk! Stop denying your feelings!”

“I don’t have any!”

“You can say that again,” Kuroo snorted. When everyone stopped to glare at him, he threw his hands in the air and huffed. “You know I’m right!”

Suga left first, rolling his eyes and mumbling about needing a drink. Kuroo followed behind, waving goodbye to his dormmate and flipping Oikawa off with a sneer. When it was time for Ushijima to leave as well, his legs wouldn’t listen to him. He remained grounded in place. Oikawa tapped his foot in impatience, holding both of his forearms with his hands, resting them in front of his chest.

“Well, Idiot 1? What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Not really.”

Oikawa waited. He waited for Ushijima to leave. He waited for him to at least move. He waited for his line of sight to shift, to break eye contact. He waited for him to speak, to explain something, to explain anything. When no answers arrived and instead new questions began to surface, Oikawa gave in.

“Come on then, let’s go.”

Oikawa interlaced their fingers, holding onto Ushijima’s hand as he dragged him out of the dorm and through the school. It became clear where they were headed so it came as no surprise to Ushijima when Oikawa stopped in front of the gym. Grabbing the spare key that was hidden under a rock (an obvious spot, but how Oikawa knew to check there was beyond him), Oikawa unlocked the door and pushed Ushijima inside.

“Alright, let’s play.”

“Right now? Should we even be here?”

“I’m offering to work with you, to set for you and your first response is to question me? You really are an idiot. Can’t you just live in the moment and enjoy yourself?”

“... Okay.”

Oikawa grinned, triumph stretching across his face as he bounded across the court and wheeled out the volleyball trolley. With Ushijima’s help, they got the net up and the court ready. Without warning, Oikawa took his shirt off and tossed it to the side. Quirking his eyebrow, faking confusion as he tapped his finger along his lip, he motioned for Ushijima to do the same.

“What’s wrong? We’ve seen more of each other than this before. Besides, there’s somewhere I want to go after this and we need to be presentable.”

The tables turned when Ushijima stripped down to just his boxers, leaving Oikawa flabbergasted.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“You said we need to look presentable.”

“How does that equal stripping down to your damn underwear?!”

Ushijima shrugged. “It makes sense to me.”

It was nothing new and yet it felt like Oikawa was seeing him properly for the first time. He looked attractive, and Oikawa hated it. He rubbed the back of his neck as Oikawa stared at him, his arm muscles flexing and bulging. Oikawa continued to look him up and down until their eyes met. He refused to be outdone or intimidated. With a light laugh, he brushed the unspoken exchange off and went to stand in the middle of the court, gesturing for the ace to follow before taking off his own pants.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was odd to play in just their boxers. Oikawa found himself losing focus more often and ended up spiking the ball out of court when he saw Ushijima bend over to collect some of the stray balls. After a few more rounds of serving practice and setting some spikes for the ace, Oikawa called it quits. Even though the majority of fault fell on him, Oikawa blamed Ushijima for the practice failing.

“I thought volleyball would be fun since it’s something we both enjoy but you’re hopeless, Bakatoshi.”

“Maybe we should try with our clothes on?”

“Maybe if you weren’t being a pervert and staring so much, it wouldn’t be a problem!”

“I wasn’t-” Oikawa’s irritated tapping echoed throughout the room, his foot setting a relentless pace. It was getting late and Ushijima could just about pass out at this point. He was in no mood to argue. ”Sorry…?”

“Whatever . There’s a bakery nearby. Let’s wash up and go.”

If playing in their underwear was hard, trying to wash together was worse. Oikawa shut it down pretty fast, forcing Ushijima to wait until he was done even though the shower room was huge and they could have each taken opposite corners. It proved more troublesome for Oikawa, however, as his mind kept wandering to how built and muscular Wakatoshi was. There was a voice in the back of his head that wouldn’t cease, that insisted he reenter the shower and approach Ushijima. It would be easy. There was no one around. He could just walk in, help him scrub his back, wash off the extra soap, clean his hair. Would it be weird? Was why he even thinking this way about Ushiwaka of all people?

He wanted to blame Kuroo, to say he poisoned his thoughts with all his suggestive, crude remarks, but in the silence of his mind, he knew the truth. He was starting to fall-

“Oikawa-san, do you need help?”

“What?!” He squealed, latching onto the nearest towel and pressing it against his body. His distraction had cost him too much time. Ushijima was dressed again, looking as handsome as ever, and staring at him with concern. Oikawa was still undressed, water dripping into his eyes from his wet hair, his clothes waiting for him by the mirror and sink. “I’m fine! Get out!”

“Okay.”

The walk to the bakery was silent and awkward. Oikawa refused to look Ushijima in the eyes and neither would speak. When Ushijima thought of something to say, the timing felt wrong so he looked off toward the horizon instead. The sun was setting and the air was beginning to chill. The streets were empty as they navigated toward the family-owned bakery. A few street lights flickered on here and there but the plethora of colour dripping from the sky was enough to keep the roads bright and clear. Once Oikawa announced that their destination was just a few stores ahead, Ushijima noticed that most of the other family-run businesses were closed already.

“Will they be open at this time of night?”

“Would we be going if they weren’t?”

The sharpness of his tone ended the conversation, cutting it short with brutal efficiency, leaving no room for even a peep or murmur. It didn’t help that Ushijima was practically a walking corpse by this point, either. His body threatened to give out under him with every step. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and seek out the comfort of his bed but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the rare moments he spent alone with Oikawa.

As he had been briskly informed, the bakery was indeed open. The elderly couple behind the counter beamed when they saw Oikawa. The man disappeared behind a makeshift curtain into the storeroom while the woman greeted them, talking with Oikawa as one would a son.

“Tooru-kun, take a seat. We’ll get your order right out for you, okay? Do you and your friend want some tea?”

“Thank you, ma’am! We’d love some!”

With a bow that each of the boys reciprocated, she wobbled to the refrigerator and grabbed out a jug of iced tea and started to cut some fresh lemon slices. Ushijima sat across from Oikawa. Without his usual cologne and fragranced body wash, he smelled musky. His hair stuck up in every direction, unkempt and carefree much like the setter himself. His eyes were distant, as if he was deep in thought. After a few minutes, the couple brought over the tea and a small cake. When they were alone again, Oikawa pushed the dessert to Ushijima’s side of the table.

“I didn’t know what to get you. I didn’t want it to be too personal and for you to think we’re friends or something. I figured you liked volleyball, and cake is standard for birthdays…” Oikawa laughed in embarrassment, his cheeks tinged pink as he continued, “I didn’t plan it very well though. It was a last minute, snap decision. I really screwed it up, though, huh?”

“It’s wonderful.”

“Bakatoshi, only you would say that. Well, whatever. Happy birthday.”

“You remembered?”

“Of course I did. What do you take me for? Do you think I’d willingly hang out with you for any other reason?”

“I didn’t think anyone knew.”

“Idiot.”

“Thank you, Tooru.”

“Just shut up and eat the cake already.”

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