#am i about to get stupid as hell for a brand new white boy's damn shoulders??

[agir1ukn0w]

that boy (tom blyth) has got the broadest shoulders i've ever seen in my stupid life god damn.

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

≛ 𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴.

≛ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

≛ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1𝘬

≛ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢 /𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘥𝘰𝘮 (𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪), 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘥𝘶𝘩.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

i’m gonna be honest

that whole “innocent bby deku🥺” shit is played out. this man will demolish your pussy and will not apologize for it.

izuku has the full capacity to be rough in bed, so don’t let his sweet and demure presence fool you

he’s really into overstim surprisingly enough

watching you stir and keen as you cum again for the third time in a row fills him with a sense of pride

knowing nobody else could make you whine like this, make you sputter and stumble over each word, make you cream all over the dick the way he does

he also adores fucking you to the point where you can’t form a comprehensible sentence

he’ll give you deep, slow strokes while holding a bullet vibe directly to your swollen clit, pine eyes sparkling as he watches you plead for him to stop, yet buck your hips into him, chasing another orgasm.

calls you bunny instead of puppy bc ew

“you’re so insatiable, bunny. you like it when i—ah, fuck!—tease your pussy like this? ‘like it when i take what’s mine?”

the pleasure is overwhelming, insurmountable as he brings you to that prepice over and over again until you’re crying.

he’ll then flip you onto your stomach, hands digging into the dimples and slopes of your hips before absolutely impaling you on his length

he’s thick, and comes in at a solid 6-7 inches, so you’re always sore after a round or two

also

breeding kink. like a major one.

izuku wasn’t always the most confident in his abilities as a boyfriend let alone a lover

so when you started letting him cum inside you it was a huge boost

likes breeding you before work so he can think about the guys that hit on you in the break room smelling the scent of sex all over your body as you walk past them, sticky white fluid creeping down the leg of your pantyhose.

he couldn’t keep other guys from looking at you, but he could damn sure remind you of who you belonged to.

oh, and he’ll slide two fingers in once he’s done and scoop as much of his cum between them as possible before slipping them in your mouth so he can watch you suck it all off

this mf is possessive and nasty.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

facefucking.

that’s it. send tweet

nah but in all seriousness, katsuki loves watching your eyes well up with tears as you squeeze and milk his dick for all it’s worth.

he’s a good 7-7.5 inches

not an insane amount of girth but the length more than compensates for it

most definitely uses it as a punishment

and isn’t afraid to do it while you’re in public either

which brings us to his exhibition kink

he’s very prideful when it comes to his reputation as a hero, so you would think that it would keep him from doing anything scandal worthy

wrong

it only adds to the searing arousal he gets from watching your tongue fondle his sensitive head, knees bruised from being beneath him for so long

it’s a power trip for him, especially if he’s in costume

depending on your behavior, he’ll be generous and let you swallow while praising your performance

or he’ll wrap a hand around the back of your neck, slide your mouth off of his spit-soaked cock, and stroke himself until his cum splatters all over your eyelashes, fully debauching you in the desolate alleyway

he’s made you walk back home with cum all over your face before, after you’d been particularly bratty over the course of a week

“katsuki! i can’t walk back home like this, what if someone notices?!”

“should’ve thought about that before you decided to visit me while you weren’t wearing any fuckin’ panties. nasty little girl...now hurry up and get a move on, and you better not wipe it off either.”

loves the thrill of humiliating you

unrelated, but he’s an ass man through and through, taking such pleasure in watching it jiggle and ripple under each heavy blow he delivers

takes photos of the marks afterwards and has an album for em.

he also loves fucking you on different surfaces around your penthouse (and his agency)

the man is territorial

so what better way to mark his territory than by making his gorgeous girlfriend squirt and cream all over it?

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰:

babe i am so sorry for your neighbors

cause if there’s nothing else shinsou loves it’s to make you scream

he’s got a corruption kink, but not in the way most people do

he doesn’t give a damn if you’re sweet and innocent, or if you’ve got the mouth of a sailor and could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch

what matters to him is making you lose your composure.

one day you’d been anticipating a call back from a job interview you’d gone to a few days prior

and shinsou just so happened to be observing your blissed-out expression as he ground into you from below, your body atop his

when your damned phone started ringing

being the sly little shit that he is, he saw an opportunity

“answer the phone pretty girl...don’t wanna keep them waiting, do you?”

reaching for your buzzing cell, you press the green ‘accept’ button, raising the device to your ear as you jolt forward

“hello, may i speak to y/n?” a chipper voice chimed through the receiver.

“t-this is sh-she. how can i—ah!—help you?” you garble your words, trying to suppress your moans

hitoshi merely takes this as a challenge, opting to drive into you deeper whilst trying to keep the noise down, it’s less fun when it’s obvious what you two are doing

his dick is thick as FUCK. 6 going on 7 inches but honestly you couldn’t give less of a fuck with the way he’s stretching you

surprisingly enough you managed your way through the phone call, telling the white lie of “helping the neighbors move”

but little did you know this was only the beginning of hitoshi’s new favorite pastime

he’s another exhibitionist too

so uh...good luck with that

remote control vibrators on dinner dates, fingers stuffed deep inside your sloppy cunt while he makes small talk with your mom at the dinner table,

even kneeling beneath your desk and sending you to heaven and back while you’re on a video call with your fucking boss.

he’s addicted to watching you fall apart, and is more than willing to apply that pressure.

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

dabi’s dick would fuck anyone stupid.

let’s make that clear.

it’s canon that he’s got a jacob’s ladder, blah blah blah, but let’s discuss how fucking pretty it is

creeping in at a firm eight inches, and about 4 and a half in girth with a drool-worthy mauve tip, his shaft slightly lighter than the rest of his tanned, unscarred skin

it’s dangerous, barbells running up the underside of his shaft or not

definitely into temperature play

and i’m not talking about that soft shit like warming up his fingers whilst they’re plunging in and out of your sweet center

no no no

that fucker will BRAND you and will not apologize

you’re his pretty little cumdump, and he’ll stake his claim upon your body how ever the hell he pleases

degradation is a given.

“—what a fuckin’ whore. tch, you really think you deserve this dick?”

“how about you get on your knees and beg for it then if you’re so damn needy.”

“quit your god damn whining, or i swear i’ll leave you spread out on this fuckin’ bar for shiggy to find. maybe i’ll even get a promotion for giving him such a slutty little bitch to use.”

“what’s wrong? does it hurt sweetheart? can’t take it after you talked all that shit earlier?” you shake your head no, thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain the position dabi’s folded you into. “...good.” he smirks, eyes gleaming with malice before pounding you to filth, cries spilling from your mouth as you beg for release, knowing he won’t give it to you.

making you cry? a specialty of dabi’s. your tears get him harder than anything; to watch your lips quiver as you sniffle, wiping away tears while he palms himself through his sweats

has shown you off to shigaraki, and will not hesitate to tongue your fluids off his digits while carrying on a full conversation with the other man.

after all, when you know your toy’s better than someone else’s, you tend to brag.

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪:

speaking of this mf

he’s the reason gamer boys get the rep of having massive dicks

cause god damn did you not expect this man to be slinging around eight bordering on nine inches of dick. four and a half to five inches of girth. poor you.

he’s also got a penchant for angry sex, so if that’s not enough of an indication that you’re going to have trouble walking afterwards i don’t know what is

but one thing he loves more than taking you apart piece by piece and cumming inside of you with zero remorse?

doing it when he’s in the middle of a game, and he’s online with the party’s voice chat.

“mmm—god, you really will do anything i tell you....swallowing every inch while these guys get to listen, and you’re not even embarrassed, you’re getting off on it!”

“i love little sluts like you, always doing whatever it takes just to have a cock pry them open at all times. that’s what you are, right? my little slut, made for me to do whatever i want to.”

yes, he’s made you whine so sweetly for him, cry as you beg him to touch you, while he plays fucking valorant.

and you can’t count how many times he’s mocked the way you gag and choke on his massive length while he played genshin impact with random guys online.

is a sucker for a good set of nudes, and isn’t afraid to ask for them on a regular basis

plus he just likes taking pictures/videos of you in general, saving them to a private album of his phone for him to use when you’re not there

he may parade you around as though you’re a lifeless fuckdoll, but if nothing else he’s possessive, and would rather relive the pain of losing to all might than let another man see you the way he does

but i’ll be honest, tomura’s not always a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a huge dick.

he’s also a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a thing for being dominated....and a huge dick.

see, it balances out!

it started with a bet that if he lost another round of mortal kombat you got to peg him

it took a lot of convincing, but he agreed to the terms, certain he’d win regardless

and after button smashing like your life depended on it with subzero, you managed to secure the win.

a grin stapled itself to your face after being treated to two hours of tomura’s incessant sobs and wails

“mhm—please...i can’t take it—ah! fuck, fuck, fuck! right there!”

“don’t make me work for it, i promise you’ll never be player two again, just please let me cum—m’ so close..”

game nights are always fun with him, you can count on it.

𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴:

my god my god

i’m gonna say it right now: keigo doesn’t eat pussy for you.

he does it for him.

and that makes all the difference in the fucking world when he’s pulling you to sit on his face

scruff scratching at your inner thighs deliciously as he makes you squirt alllll over aforementioned facial hair, rolling your hypersensitive clit between soft lips and a fluid tongue

he could stay between your thighs for hours and hours on end

will propose to devour you in the most inappropriate of places

and honestly? isn’t the least bit ashamed about it. elevators, in front of large office windows just a few stories above the street where you’re just barely visible to the people below,

on endeavor’s decorative towels after he spread them out on the floor so he could fuck you senseless on top of them, etc.

the flame hero had pissed him off earlier, and he needed to exert some petty rage. this was most sensible use of his energy.

also in case it wasn’t obvious: breeding kink. duh.

no thoughts head empty just hawks begging to breed you during his rut

“come on pretty girl, let me make you a momma....can’t wait to stuff you full of my chicks....”

he blushes so deeply when he’s close to cumming

and boy does he fucking whine

dick is just as pretty as he is, he’s a good 6 inches with a three inch girth; tip flushed and pink

definitely cherishes intimacy during sex

and will certainly go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable/desired

he could have all the money/fame in the world

and it still wouldn’t compare to the feeling of your thighs suffocating him while he slurps at your cunt like it’s his last meal.

[cinnaminsvga]

Let the Dead Weep | Jimin

→ summary: jimin falls in love the only way he knows how: catastrophically. your heart ends up as collateral damage.

→ genre: royal guard!jimin, princess!reader, angst → warnings: jimin is cold-hearted but only because he’s afraid, jungkook tries his Best to pick up the pieces, heart ache city babey! → words: 5.6K → a/n: this was commissioned by the wonderful @kookiebunnii​!! thanks again for giving me the freedom to write my own wips (this is admittedly Very old... so old that i almost forgot this existed in my drafts lol) i hope you like it bc this one is prime zee angst propaganda... sorry jimin but i had to do it to ya (again)

The sound of clicking heels is an unusual occurrence at the royal training grounds. Accustomed to the cacophony of grunting men and clashing swords, Prince Jungkook does not immediately notice that something (or rather, someone) is out of place.

“Your defenses are down.” Jungkook thrusts his sword forward, disarming his sparring partner in one smooth motion. Surprised, his partner yelps as his sword clatters to the ground, his now empty hands raised awkwardly in befuddlement. But his shock does not last long, as his previously occupied gaze returns to where it was, his jaw agape as he continues to stare somewhere just outside the courtyard.

When Jungkook turns his head to the source, he finally understands why he had so easily defeated his distracted opponent.

Your bright white summer dress stands out starkly against the dreary autumn scenery, your skirt bunched up to your knees to avoid tripping over yourself. It seems as though the world has gone still from shock, every man in the vicinity holding their breaths at their first glimpse of the princess from up close. Even from where he stands, Jungkook can see the sweat flowing freely from your temples as you rush towards them, your chest heaving as you dash past dozens of starstruck onlookers towards your destination.

You don’t even spare Jungkook a glance when you pass by him, your eyes trained somewhere behind him as though nothing (or rather, no one) else in the courtyard matters. “Jimin!” you call out, nearly collapsing onto the man you had been looking for as you fail to stop your momentum in time. Luckily, the head of the royal guard catches you effortlessly, his hand previously resting on the hilt of his sword jumping up to find its place on your waist to steady you.

Jungkook watches as Jimin’s gaze sweeps through the sea of heads before landing on him. The guard’s posture stiffens, jaw clenching as the two men size each other up. Eventually, Jimin drops his hand from your waist as if he’d been burned, taking an inconspicuous step back to regain some sort of respectable distance.

Jimin clears his throat, his expression as stern as ever. It only takes a single glare from him for the excited whispers to die in a second. “Well? Did I tell you to stop? Take your positions,” he growls. In an instant, the men around Jungkook rise back to action, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing loudly once more.

“Your Highness? Shall we continue?” The boy he had been sparring with speaks out hesitantly, breaking Jungkook’s trance. Jungkook blinks slowly in confusion, before remembering where he was and what he was doing. He takes one last glance at Jimin’s and your retreating forms, only managing to glimpse the trail of your skirt as Jimin quickly drags you away from prying eyes.

“Your Highness?” the boy repeats, more nervously this time. Jungkook fixes a smile on his face before turning to face him, gently patting the young boy on the shoulder with the ease and charisma only a prince could manage.

“Yes, let’s continue. On your guard,” Jungkook warns, poising his sword forward before taking the first strike.

x x x x x

Jimin drags you away to the nearby armory, causing a domino of shields to topple down in his haste to open the door. He shuts it closed, not bothering to find a light as he pulls you deeper into the large shed. Only the small window by the roof sheds any light for them to see, but it’s enough for you to see the barely concealed annoyance set in Jimin’s eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking? That was highly inappropriate for a princess,” he growls, lips downturned in a frown. He might be well-known amongst his men as a stern and unforgiving captain, but he has never been gruff with you. In any other scenario, you might have been shocked at his sudden change of face, but the news that you just heard from your father is still ringing loudly in your ears, distracting you from anything else.

“What am I thinking? I should be asking you that! How is it that despite being the princess of this damn kingdom, I am still the last to know anything around here?” you shriek, ignoring Jimin’s silent pleas for you to quiet down. No, you are done being quiet; if you had to choose a moment to you would throw away all etiquette classes out the window, it would be now.

Jimin heaves a sigh, rubbing his temples. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss, interrupting him. You hold up a finger when he makes a move to argue. “No, you answer my questions, first and foremost. Why did I only find out from my father just now that you volunteered to get stationed at the border?” You can feel your face heating up from the frustration and betrayal you feel; blood rushes up to your head and leaves you feeling dizzy, but you refuse to stop until he budges.

You’re breathing heavily, speaking so quickly that you doubt you’re making any sense right now. “The king requested for volunteers to fill the station guard units over a month ago. We’ve met and seen each other multiple times since then, and yet here we are,” you spit out, jabbing a nail into his chest. He barely budges, only keeping his head lowered. “Huh? Why on earth would you keep this from me? Answer me, Park Jimin!”

Jimin grimaces, his face contorting as if he’s in pain. He does not make a move to reply, only continues to avoid your fierce gaze. But even from where you stand under this dim light, you can tell from his expression that he isn’t guilty—just forlorn. Heartbroken, even.

You swallow thickly, blinking rapidly to keep your angry tears at bay, but your voice still cracks when you ask, “Why won’t you say anything?”

Finally, he looks at you. “What else is there to say?” He sounds as defeated as you feel.

And yet, you’re flabbergasted. You’re angry, tired, and hysterical—but above all else, you’re hurt. It feels as though a massive rock has dropped in your stomach, crashing waves against your chest like fire licking at your bones. The heavy feeling that has been weighing on you finally has a name, as you have been fighting to ignore what it was for ages now. Deep down, you know that this is inevitable, but somewhere inside you still resides the six-year-old child entrenched in her happy fairy tales, the same girl who believes that good things will always happen to good people.

You hoped that you would have at least deserved a warning. Preparation before this mirage disappeared forever. But Jimin had always been the type to rip the bandage and muscle through the pain, so you shouldn’t have been surprised at all. You just hoped that the two of you would still have more time.

A naive thing to desire, as Park Jimin was never yours to call your own.

You’re struggling to find the words to speak, anything to convince him to stay, even if you know it is not your place. He can see you grappling for straws, and perhaps it is out of pity or self-preservation, but he does not mention it. He does not say anything about you at all.

Eventually, he speaks. “I am… I have to...” He hesitates for a moment, taking one short glance at you before staring at the door. His hand grips the hilt of his sword tightly, though you know it is not because he itches to wield it, but for his ease of mind. You have learned, after years of growing up with him, that his only comfort comes from his own strength, his own ability to control his fate.

“Unfortunately, I must leave for now, Your Highness. Let us speak about this later before my subordinates begin to wonder.” There is a heaviness in his tone when he says that, like it is disgraceful for you to be seen with him. It reignites the fire in your veins once more, and you reflexively reach out to grab his retreating shoulder before the shed is suddenly bathed in light.

“Princess Y/N? Are you alright?” Prince Jungkook stands by the entrance of the armory, sweaty hair matted to his skin from his morning practice routine. For a moment, you almost hate the way he had sounded so… well-meaning, even though he had done nothing wrong to spite you. In fact, Jeon Jungkook has always been the perfect filial son, someone any royal family would be proud of.

And unfortunately for you, that was quite possibly the only reason you were betrothed to him in the first place.

You see him eye the pair of you curiously, his gaze gradually coming to a stop where your hand still rests against Jimin’s shoulder. You retract it immediately as if burned. You clear your throat, curtsying respectfully to him. “I am fine, Prince Jungkook. I am sorry for the scene I caused. I hope I did not interrupt your daily practice,” you say carefully, folding your hands in front of you.

Jungkook nods silently, his expression giving nothing away. Feeling awkward under his scrutiny, you curtsy to him once more. You shuffle away from Jimin without sparing him another glance, but you feel his gaze trained on your back like a brand. You wait for Jungkook to allow you to pass him before scuttling away, the ends of your dress dragging across the dirt path as you rush back towards the castle.

Stupid of you.

Jimin had been right, like always. News spreads fast within these ancient walls, and the chatterings about your emotional display are sure to reach your father’s ears one way or another. You doubt he’d be surprised by it; it’s no secret that your affections have always lied heavily on the royal guardsman. As long as you kept your secret rendezvous a secret, the King is more than happy to turn a blind eye. A reward, perhaps, for keeping your side of the deal.

Except that side of the deal hadn’t meant to arrive until your older brother had been wed, right after his search for his queen consort had been completed. But Jungkook’s family had been adamant to move things along, most likely due to their desperation to form an alliance with your prominent kingdom. As the seventh son, Jungkook hardly had any use for them in their household other than being goods for barter, and in any other case, you might have felt bad for him.

The guilt feels like a dagger pressing itself against your throat, and yet, you do not have the courage to fight against it. You sigh, defeated, as you stay reclused in your bedroom, waiting for Jimin to join you.

You don’t join your family for lunch that afternoon: a bigger mistake on your part, as it probably incriminates you further. Even worse still, Jungkook and his escorts are guests at the palace, and your absence doesn’t look good for your reputation. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to care that day, only offering weak excuses about a headache to appease them.

To your surprise, Jungkook had vouched for you, according to your handmaiden. When you asked what he said, they said he had mentioned something about your pensiveness from this morning. You scoff, wondering if he must be covering your mistake for the sake of your future together.

The sun makes its way across the horizon and still no signs of Jimin visiting your quarters. You pace your room for so long that you fear leaving the carpet threadbare, your restlessness causing spikes of fear to trickle down your spine. Your entire body tingles with the need to do something, anything. Just to feel as though you still have some control, some sense of sanity.

By your dresser, your untouched violin sits, waiting forlornly for your hands to caress it once more. It is a gift from your mother for your birthday, though you have scarcely used it since then. You have always been talented with the violin, but the need to play it had died down once your days had been occupied with a different type of music—the sort of melodies that you could not pull from strings or brass.

You pluck the violin from its stand, the polished wood still smelling of varnish when you place it by your neck. You begin to play a piece from memory—a song that your tutor had once drilled into your head until your hands could move on their own. Even still, you love the piece with all your heart; the melancholy and longing of the notes resonate deeply within you.

You know that what you are doing is cruel, both to yourself and to him. With your window wide open, you are sure that the wind can carry your music to the royal offices, where Jimin is sure to hear it. Anyone would be able to tell that it is you playing, stringing note after note with hopeless abandon. Just to get a reaction, from anyone. Anything!

So deeply are you immersed in your playing that it takes a moment for you to notice the knocking. Your bow stills mid-way, your breath hitching when the knocking continues. “Just a moment,” you call out, hastily placing your violin back on your dresser before ripping open the door to find—

Prince Jungkook still has his hand poised to knock, not having anticipated you to open your door so quickly. “Oh, pardon me. I am so sorry to intrude on your playing. Have I come at a bad time?”

Your shoulders slacken, and your disappointment could not be more apparent. “Oh.”

Prince Jungkook smiles wryly, not appearing to be offended by your less than enthusiastic greeting. “I know that it is improper of me to ask, but could you invite me into your quarters for a moment? I would like to speak to you, if you would allow it.”

“Why would it be improper? We’re promised to each other anyway,” you reply bitterly, the words coming out before you can think twice.

Jungkook cringes, bowing his head sadly. “I suppose that is a bad thing, isn’t it?”

It is impossible not to feel bad after that, your face flushing deeply with shame. “Not exactly…” You offer an awkward smile to compensate, but you doubt that it reaches your eyes. You step aside, allowing him to enter. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

His long legs allow him to take only two strides to reach the center of your room, his large frame engulfing the space. It almost feels suffocating, being here with him. Your mind unhelpfully compares him to the other only man who has ever entered your room, a man who had a much more lithe figure to the one with you right now.

You notice how he scans your room with sharp eyes, how he locks onto your violin immediately. He moves towards it and makes a motion as if to hold it, and after you give him your permission, he picks it up with reverence, turning it over with meticulous grace. “I was not aware that you were so gifted with musical talent,” he murmurs, plucking the strings experimentally.

You shrug, leaning against your door. “It was never brought up during our dinner conversations.” Not that much was said between the two of you during your meals together, as your father seems more interested in learning about Jungkook’s competency in politics than what his hobbies are.

He nods, absent-minded. He returns the violin to its proper place, his touch featherlike and graceful. He might be a violinist himself, you think. “That piece you were just playing… What was it called?”

A common question. “It’s a traditional song based on one of the kingdom’s myths,” you reply easily.

He nods again. “Why were you playing it?”

A less common question, one that you find more difficult to answer. “It… happened to be the first one I thought of, I suppose.” A half-truth, at the very least.

He hums thoughtfully, turning to you with doleful eyes. “Then I suppose that you must be grieving, are you not? if that is the sort of song that first comes to mind.”

You’re immediately defensive, curling into yourself as you watch him suspiciously. “My father… He told you, didn’t he?”

Even though you do not expound on what you mean, the prince is quick to shake his head in denial. “Nothing my eyes have not already seen.”

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, hackles rising as you size him up. “What do you want from me then? A confession? For me to go on my knees and ask for forgiveness?” you spit.

He stares at you, astonished. “Who am I to dole out absolution when I am but only a man?”

“So does that mean you have committed the same mistakes that I have? I find that hard to believe,” you scoff, lowering your guard in your annoyance. He’s only been in your room for a few minutes and already you tire of his company; you wonder how you’ll manage to keep your sanity while spending your life with him.

But in truth, even if he hadn’t irritated you, even if he was the nicest man in the world, he would never compare to the man you have already laid your heart with.

He shakes his head once more, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “Not quite, but I do understand what you’re going through. Somewhat.”

Somewhat, he says. The more you observe him, the more you realize how young he is. Not just in the way he appears, but also in the way he talks and moves, almost like the stars trapped in his eyes have yet to escape. You can imagine him falling for one of the servant girls back in his own palace, secretly swapping lovelorn gazes across polished halls. Unlike you, he must not have acted on his greed, knowing the extent of his responsibility to his house and kingdom.

Unlike you, he does not bear a cruel bone in his body, as he would never subject that poor girl to the sort of heartbreak that only a clandestine relationship could offer.

“I want to make myself clear to you, my princess. I did not come here to accuse you of anything. I came here because I wanted to make myself clear with you,” he says. You raise a brow, urging him to continue.

“I am not asking you to fall in love with me,” he says plainly. It surprises you greatly, to hear him speak so candidly. Ever the perfect politician, he’d only ever spoken with care and precision, always anticipating the other party’s reaction. You have spoken with enough visiting royals to know that he is well-versed in that sort of language, so to hear him speak so brazenly is almost refreshing.

“I wouldn’t have offered, regardless,” you respond, smirking sardonically. He laughs at that, and you can hear the honesty in his laughter, too.

“Fair. But for the sake of the people who put their faith in us, I would suggest,” he pauses, licking his lips as he mulls over his next words, “that we might be sincere with one another. Just so our union may not perish… prematurely.”

You don’t respond, scanning him for any ill intent. As a princess from an illustrious kingdom, you have needed to stave off numerous lords and princes from taking your hand for their own wicked gain. However, none of your previous suitors were like Prince Jungkook, who genuinely seemed to care greatly for his people, as seen by how kindly he has treated his entourage of helpers.

He waits for you to say something, but eventually, he continues, “Princess Y/N, it would be the greatest honor if you would allow me to know you better. I seek nothing more than your companionship.” He blushes slightly, coughing into his fists. “W-well, not that you owe me that, as we could very well live separately for the rest of our lives, but... Umm… That came out a little more awkward than I intended, but I hope you get the gist.”

You realize, then, that he desires to live peacefully with you—guilelessly and unselfishly. Perhaps he is doing this for his parents (highly likely), or perhaps he has no other choice (extremely likely). But the fact remains that in front of you stands a good man with a simple wish: to become friends with you, if not at least become amicable with one another.

“Then I suppose you want to know more about me? About my story?” you ask sarcastically. “Want to know why the eldest daughter of the king is off frolicking with the captain of his guard?”

Jungkook snorts, an easy smile on his lips. “Well, you could tell me that, but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘when did you learn to play the violin?’ and other neutral information. You know, like how normal people converse.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he had been making fun of you. “Hey, watch it, princeling. You’re not in the clear just yet,” you huff, but there is no bite to your bark. You can tell that he knows this, from the way his tense figure has relaxed tremendously in this short amount of time. You notice your own tension fading away too, if only infinitesimally.

“I can start if you want,” he hums, tapping a finger on his chin as he thinks. “Well, I have always wanted to tell you this, but you might think I might be buttering your ass if I did, pardon the language—”

You laugh loudly, baffled by his seemingly out-of-nowhere casual demeanor. In your bedroom, with his shoulders slackened and hair still disheveled from his morning practice, he looks nothing like the perfect prince you had boxed him in as. “Pardoned,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“—but I’ve always found your tenacity to be admirable. Your dedication to your people, evidenced by your tireless work to make their lives better, has always struck me as inspirational. Pardon the cliché, but you really aren’t like other girls,” he says.

You wave off his compliments. “By the sounds of it, you must have this line practiced to perfection. Don’t tell me this is what you say to the other princesses when you confess to them.”

He flushes darkly, stuttering at your brash comment. The sight makes you snort, only worsening his embarrassment. “I have, um, never confessed to anyone before…”

“I find that hard to believe. Sure, you might not be like me—” you say drily. You haven’t sentenced your own life to heartache and misfortune, is what you mean to say. The pang in your chest comes back with a vengeance, but you carry on. “—but I would imagine that you’ve had to sweet talk many princesses before me. I was not your parents’ first choice, was I?”

“Indeed,” he admits awkwardly. “But I am not completely powerless. My father had allowed me some freedom when choosing a bride, and I…” he trails off, swallowing nervously. He gestures to you vaguely, unwilling to keep eye contact as he does.

You gape at him, pointing to yourself. “You… You chose me? Why?”

“It’s exactly as I said,” he shrugs. “I read about the things you’ve done, and I was drawn to you. It seems that my freedom has indirectly caused your misery, however…” he says ashamedly.

Guilt coils up you for the umpteenth time that day, except now it is directed at the boy in front of you. Foolish of you to think that your actions only affected you and your lover. Foolish of you to believe that your actions don’t have consequences bigger than you might have imagined.

“It… is not your fault,” you grit out, though it pains you to say. Not because it is a lie, but rather, it is a painful truth: a pill you have finally been forced to swallow. “My recklessness has caused more wreckage than I would have imagined.”

“I must admit that I have always been in love with the concept of love,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck, shyly turning away from you. “I believe that while love comes in all different shapes and sizes, it is certainly never supposed to be cruel. It is never selfish or… painful.”

Your eyes narrow, fully understanding his implications. “Then you must be as naive as you appear,” you snarl. You step away from the doorway, making your way towards the prince until your chests were merely a breath apart. However, he doesn’t back away like you thought he would. He stands his ground, looking at you through his long lashes.

“You wouldn’t understand. Have you ever loved someone so deeply that even the thought of being apart wounds you? Have you ever stayed awake at night, listening carefully to the sound of your own beating heart, aching for someone you cannot have? It is an ache, Jungkook, that cannot be salved with pretty words and sentiments. It is not a choice,” you finish, vision growing blurry with unshed tears. But you refuse to let them fall, not for a boy who didn’t know better.

His gaze is level with your own, his breathing steady. His eyes look dark to you, no longer sparkling like they once did. But before you can blink, the darkness is gone, replaced with his carefully crafted neutrality. The princely politician makes his return, except he’s a little sadder. Disappointed, even. “No, I have not experienced any of that. I cannot say for certain what is true, but I have always thought that love should be gentle and kind. Something to be enjoyed, and not a cause of strife.”

He steps away from you, his footsteps light as he makes his way to the door. When he twists the doorknob, he stills for a moment. “It was nice speaking to you, Y/N. Don’t… keep hurting yourself, okay? A lot of people care for you, even if they don’t say it. Even if it doesn’t seem that way.”

You bark out a laugh, but it sounds watered down to your ears. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with me already.”

He smiles at you, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs before bidding you farewell.

You’re left alone again, and your room feels significantly more hollow. Your entire body is vibrating, filled with an unidentifiable feeling swirling in your chest like a hurricane. Was it anger? Frustration? Hopelessness? Guilt? Perhaps an ungodly concoction of all four?

You feel nauseous, almost falling over from the strength of it. Everything about today has caused you to lose your hold on your sanity, the urge to scream in anguish becoming more unbearable by the second.

Love should be gentle and kind, he said. Despite how sweet his intentions, his words still feel like poison. How dare he say that to you, when he knows that you wish it was true?

You grab your violin by the neck, your violent grip causing the wood to creak. Your hands shake, tears freely falling into the sea of your self-pity.

You drag your bow harshly against the strings, striking a sound louder than your own frustrated cry. A few of the hairs snap, but you continue, playing like a madwoman possessed. The music is frantic, agonizing—goosebumps trail your skin unprompted. Your pain overflows until even the dead can hear you weep.

Your violin almost drowns out the sound of another knock at your door. “Go away,” you growl, playing more fiercely. The violin groans, as if in pain. “If you’ve come back to lecture me about love again—”

“Your Highness,” a softer voice responds. It’s not Jungkook like you had thought. “It’s Jimin.”

Even if he had not announced himself, you would have known just by his footsteps. You freeze, your heart beating wildly out of your chest. You swipe a hand across your cheek in a futile attempt to hide away the evidence. Even without a mirror, you know that your eyes are puffy and bloodshot.

He enters without your prompting: comfortable enough to invade your space as if he had not torn your heart to pieces just hours ago. His gaze immediately goes to your face, a staggered breath leaving his lungs when he sees your hollow expression. But that moment of weakness disappears in an instant, the same stoic captain from this morning reappearing right in front of you.

“Had you been expecting someone else?” he asks in place of a greeting. There is an edge to his tone, you notice. If you didn’t know better, you might have missed it. Jealousy. How dare he.

You squint at him, but you say nothing. The air is icy with tension, enough to freeze hell twice over.

He clears his throat. “I’ve come to apologize, your Highness. It was out of line for a royal guard such as myself to drag you so brusquely like that. It will not happen again,” he murmurs.

You can hear the hidden meaning buried in his words. It won’t happen again, because I won’t be here to do it.

“Is that all you have to say?” you whisper. You place your violin down carefully, but your vision is already turning blurry once more. You won’t cry in front of him. You refuse to be the only one hurt from this.

He sighs, as if worn by your childish antics. “Y/N, you don’t understand—”

When he calls you by your name, the fraying string inside of you snaps. “Save it,” you seethe. “You’re a coward, that’s what you are. There isn’t anything to understand.”

“No, you should understand,” Jimin steps forward, grabbing you by the shoulders. He shakes you, desperation hanging off every inch of his frame. “As a princess, you should know what it means to serve the people. You should know more than anyone about the oaths I made to this kingdom. You should be proud of me!”

His increasing volume only encourages you to match him, your throat nearly getting torn in two from how loudly you shout. “Cut the patriotic act! Do you think I’ve forgotten all the whispers you’ve planted in my head? About how you wished more than anything to work with your brothers as performers, how you wished you hadn’t been the breadwinner of your family just so you wouldn’t have to sell your strength to my father?”

“I was naive. I should have known it was my responsibility,” he counters.

“Then what about all the promises you made to me during our nights together? You swore to love me forever under starry nights and disheveled sheets. You said you’d run away with me, just so I wouldn’t have to marry anyone else!”

Jimin grits his teeth. “Meer words of comfort. The babblings of a child.”

You shove him away, your skin burning from where he touched you. “Then actions must speak louder than words, correct? You cannot hide from me when your lovemaking spoke volumes. ”

For once, it seems Park Jimin is at a loss for words. He clenches his fists by his side, looking utterly defeated. “Y/N… You know that it’s the right thing to do.”

“I don’t,” you mumble, lips trembling. “I really don’t.”

“Even so,” Jimin says. He lifts a finger, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek. “It is better that I make the choice than you.”

Better that he breaks your heart than you. “We… we could’ve found another way,” you croak, helpless.

Jimin only smiles sadly. “The prince… He is a good man. I have been watching him these past few weeks and I know that he will—” his voice catches, and he has to pause for a moment to regain his composure. “He will make a good match for you. It would be wrong for us to…”

It pains you to admit it, but he’s right. Jungkook doesn’t deserve your infidelity. And yet, even if Jimin were to leave, would you ever be wholly Jungkook’s anyway? What would be the difference, if your heart will continue to yearn for another man regardless?

“Tell me this, then. For once, spare me from your half-truths. Drive the final nail into my coffin so that I know that you are truly certain.” You force him to look you directly in the eye, his pupils shaking as he takes you in for what might be his last time. It is almost as if time had stopped, and only the two of you existed in this space. This bedroom that you called your haven, the place where you had fallen in love—the place that will witness your first heartache.

“If our lives could have been different, would you have loved me then?”

Jimin has never looked so weary, so different from the boisterous boy you had met all those years ago. “I’m sure… that I would’ve done what was best. For the greater good.”

“And does that greater good include us? How do we fit in that equation?”

But he only steps away, his hand still outstretched as if to hold you. Then, he slowly tucks it behind him, his posture straightening the way a guard should. “I think you already know the answer to that,” he says, the note of finality ringing loud and clear.

He pries open the door, hesitating only for one more moment before chancing one last glance at you. “Tomorrow… I leave with my men. I would appreciate it if you don’t come.”

The door closes, and your question remains unanswered.

Just like him, the empty silence of your room refuses to respond, no matter how many times you ask.

Because in the sanctity of your bedroom, no promises ever did hold. The Park Jimin you loved was never real in the first place, and no matter how much you slam your fists and stomp your feet, he’s never going to love you the way you want him to.

And there you stand, all by your lonesome, without the prying gazes of those who expect better of you. Gruesomely, and painfully you.

[neonponders]

💗🍑✨

Watered my plants today so here’s a drabble: ftm!Steve and gardener!Billy

Read on ao3 ~

Mrs. H wants a rose garden. They actually used to have roses in the flower beds in front of the house, but life got in the way and they were replaced with plants that could handle themselves, for the most part.

Thing is, Steve loves flowers. He stopped letting himself indulge in them because it was hard enough being “man enough,” but his friendship with Robin (and saving the world a few times) puts things into a new perspective.

He deserves to pursue his interests. And goodness knows, anything other people have tried to push on him haven’t worked apart from always make him looking like a fool.

So he gets a bunch of roses in little green “trainer” pots and gets to work during one of the last winter days where it’s cold in the air but hot under the sun. Steve plants peppermint (red and white striped) roses in the front flower beds, and red ones around one side of the pool; the side of the yard that slopes down and around to the front of the house, so the right angle from the street can see them. He even gets a fine mulch to blanket the new beds and goes to the quarry for free rocks to frame it all in.

Then a gardener shows up. His mom hired a freaking gardener.

Admittedly, Steve could have reacted better than, “Who the hell are you?”

But also, who arrives on their first day of work and says, “Wrong mulch, pretty boy.”

Steve had climbed out of the rose bed and faced the young and muscular guy, who blinked and his face flickered with something that Steve had seen dozens of times. The uncertainty between Steve’s height and his mother’s eyes and cheekbones. The movement of eyes analyzing the width of his shoulders and hips between a waistline he had worked damn hard on to be rectangular instead of hour-glass shaped.

“What’s wrong with the mulch?” Steve bit out as he planted his hands on his hips. He couldn’t say why he had the habit; some traumatized mixture of hiding his hips and making him look wider. Stronger. Deserving of the space he held.

“There was a recall from that brand. A whole vat of pesticide fell into it. It’s too toxic for flowering or fruiting plants.”

Steve could hear Robin’s voice in his head. If a man explains something to me one more time, I’m going to start frothing at the mouth.

God, Steve loved her. She helped him see all the micro-aggressions men did to him because they mentally catalogued Steve as the wrong gender. It helped him realize how bad he was at reading people and why he’d made the wrong “friends” up until now.

“How was I supposed to know that?” he retorted grumpily.

The gardener - with his stupid face already golden in the winter, and a stupid curl falling over his forehead like he styled it for landscaping or something - smiled. “Get a rake, peach. We’ll replace it by lunchtime.”

Peach? Steve fumed.

So...yeah. Not the best start.

Even worse, this guy named Billy really fed into the pet name. Greeted him with, “Hey, peaches,” all the time, and went inside to use the bathroom only to bring out sliced peaches and yogurt.

“It’s finally getting hot out. Sugar’s good for you.”

Steve hated him. He hated him for calling him Peach, and he hated him for putting salt on his fruit ever since Steve stomped inside and corrected the stupid snack the way he liked it.

And then Steve’s own red rose bloomed. He despised the irony but there it was. Robin helped him despise it less and less. Her own tactics for dealing with cramps, food cravings, and headaches really saved him; and just having the company made him feel less like a fish in the wrong ocean.

It came early, though, and it was a doozy.

Steve and Billy were only weeding the beds with occasional pruning of the branches, but eventually Steve just had to lie down. He’d started bleeding that morning, but in less than twenty minutes his abdomen was swollen and he felt the cramps all the way down his inner thighs to his feet.

The grass was cool underneath his cheek. Being horizontal helped the headache but not everything else -

“Hey, Peach. Sit up a little. I got you something.”

“Fluff off.”

Billy...didn’t laugh. Steve heard him huff through his nose and drape a towel or something over him before setting something on the grass. “Don’t knock it over.”

Steve opened his eyes and saw a glass of water and a glorious little pill on a toilet paper square. Steve gulped it down as fast as he could and settled once more...underneath Billy’s jacket. He supposed it was still a little cold in the morning shade.

When he could, he folded the jacket and set it on the poolside concrete before going inside to get himself more water, a little coffee, and to, you know, check -

He’d bled through his jeans.

Like the weight of water crashing over his head, Steve wilted in the bathroom. It wasn’t a big stain, but Billy had to know, right? Steve tried to remember where exactly he’d placed his jacket on top of Steve. Was it to keep him warm, higher up on his shoulder? Or lower, to give him the courtesy of privacy?

Steve wasn’t a coward. And he sure as hell wasn’t going another day with this gardener treating him like-like...

Like what?

Robin would skin him alive for not wanting to be treated like a girl. What does that even mean, Steve? Treated with respect? Treated like a person? What does it mean to be treated like a man, then? Who is devalued here? 

Steve sighed and yanked on fresh underwear and jeans. Why was gender so hard? He knew he was Steve, and Robin liked to tell him he over-simplified things - which was a hell of a nicer way of saying he shined less than other bulbs - but he couldn’t deal with the wondering or the tip-toeing around this incredibly masculine and pretty and annoying gardener.

Billy was down the slope in the side-yard. Steve didn’t know why he was planting a sapling, of all things. His mother never said anything about wanting a tree, but he ignored that and barked, “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m listening,” he said without turning around. Steve fumed as soil got patted down around the base of the tree.

“We need to talk about my – me. We need to talk about me.”

“Are you feeling better?” Billy stood and went to the wheelbarrow of mulch.

This was too frustrating. Steve came right out with. “Do you know? Like – because my name is Steve. But I’m not sure you get it – ”

“I get it. Steve.”

Billy finally looked at him and used the shears from his belt to clip off the large tag fluttering on the branch of the tree. “It’s you who doesn’t get it.”

He pushed the tag against the front of Steve’s shirt. The latter now had a prop to syphon his frustration into. He waved the tag around as he exploded, “What do you – You don’t get to know me better than – ”

“Romance really flies right by you.”

And.

Well.

Whatever lake or ocean Steve flailed in, he sure gaped out of water now.

Billy stepped up to him, making Steve shut his trap and swallow a wet sound. He purred in between them, “This is the part where you read the tag.”

Steve really hated being a slower reader. He felt like every second was a month as he read the tag, and then flipped it over…

Peach trees have had romantic significance in many cultures for centuries. In mythology, Paris of Troy granted a golden peach to Aphrodite in competition with Hera and Athena, thereby crowning her the most beautiful. In return, Aphrodite promised him the most beautiful person in the world, Helen of Sparta.

Their fruit symbolizes unrivaled happiness, as nothing compares to the taste of a peach. In the language of flowers, peach blossoms have come to mean infatuation, or captured love.

Steve blinked at that for a long second and then found an extremely convenient little info-graphic that his brain absorbed more easily:

Peach: your qualities and charms are unequaled.

Blossoms: I am your captive.

“Um,” he fumbled, because his brain was dangerously close to asking, Are you Paris or Helen in this?

“I’ve seen how you look at me.”

Steve’s head jerked up. “No you haven’t!”

Billy, that bastard, grinned. “Yes, I have. I know you like me. You wouldn’t be so mean to me otherwise.”

“I’m mean because you deserve it,” Steve growled, but he wasn’t doing well at putting distance between them. Good god, the man had freckles on his nose and cheeks.

Billy pinched the front of Steve’s shirt. “I know what else I deserve,” and pulled a light little moan out of Steve when he captured his lips.

Billy’s lips were soft, and his hand was a little sweaty where it came to hold the side of Steve’s neck and jaw. Steve couldn’t help but say against Billy’s breath, “You don’t mind?”

“ ‘Course I don’t mind,” Billy murmured almost angrily. “It’s not the 1880s.”

“You just relied on a plant to tell me you like me. That’s pretty sappy-Victorian-show-trope to me.”

“I had to get creative. You’re already surrounded by roses every time I see you.”

Steve giggled breathily in the little space between them. Something in his body moved like a trapeze artist when the pink tip of Billy’s tongue moved inside his mouth, from one side of his bottom lip to the other.

“Roses? Too old school for me,” Steve teased.

“Good. Any more old school and it’d be awkward for me to keep doing this.”

Steve may or may not have gotten sunburnt from kissing too long.

Billy somehow found peach-scented sunscreen.

Steve also may or may not have thrown the bottle at him.

[thelullabyer12]

Rät

I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God They make technology high quality complex physiological Experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good They taught me everything Just like a daddy should

Almost everything Tommy knew, he learnt from Wilbur. How to make speeches, how to strategize, how to fight. They rebelled against Dream to make potions. They rebelled so everyone could benefit. They rebelled against tyranny. He would do anything for his brother. Tommy went to war with Wilbur but only found out what he lost afterwords. Sacrifices for everyone, put the burden on the children who fought for the land. The foundation of L’Manberg was blood, after all. 

And you were beautiful and vulnerable And power and success God damn I fell for you your flamethrowers Your tunnels and your tech I studied code because I wanted To do something great like you And the real tragedy is half of it was true

Wilbur was powerful and successful. He was general of an army, fighting against a nation much larger than his own. Tommy watched everything the brown haired man did. He wanted to be just like Wilbur. He wanted to be as charismatic and influential as his brother. He wanted to be great, to do great things. He ended up sticking with his brother to the end. He did end up doing great things, both of them. Both brothers ended up seeing their hard work blow up in front of them. Only one had a choice. 

But we've been fucking mean We're elitist We're as flawed as any Church And this faux rad west coast dogma Has a higher fucking net worth I bit the apple 'cuz I trusted you But it tastes like Thomas Malthus Your proposal is immodest and insane And I hope someday Selmers rides her fucking train

They ran for president. Tommy would have been Wilbur’s vice. The ones who fought with Wilbur, the ones loyal to him, would have been high ranking in their new government. Tommy trusted Wilbur. When they were exiled, Tommy stuck with his brother. The new government was flawed. Schlatt was a horrible president. He was drunk and abusive but he won the game of politics. Tommy hated him. He and Wilbur formed Pogtopia. He would have followed Wilbur to hell. Eventually, he did. 

I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true I wanted to be you And do what you do I lived here I loved here I thought it was true I feel so stupid I feel so used I feel so used

He loved his brother. Tommy felt broken when he died. As he saw the crater where his nation once stood, as he fought for what little remained, he loved his brother. He wondered if, at the time of his death, there was enough of Wilbur to love Tommy back. He fought for L’Manberg. He fought for his friends. He wondered what Wilbur fought for. He wondered how much was lies. He wondered how much his general used his blind loyalty. He still loved his brother. That’s what hurt the most. 

I was your baby Your first born The hot girl in your comp sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream Bred born and raised to kick your ass I fell for circuit boards Rocket ships Pictures of the stars If you could only be what you pretend you are

Sapnap and George were left alone. The Dream Team. The ideal friendship. They were everything. They were strong and powerful. Two were genuine. Their leader wasn’t. The Dream Team fell apart. They should have seen the warning signs. They should have noticed Dream faking everything. They should have noticed the power hungriness. They watched the stars and fell into his trap. They should have noticed Dream’s manipulation. They were everything and then they were nothing. 

When I said take me to the moon I never meant take me alone I thought if mankind toured the sky It meant all of us could go But I don't want to see the stars if they're just One more piece of land for you to colonize For us to turn to sand

Dream ruled the SMP. He wasn’t a king or a dictator but he was the leader. He was a good leader for so long. Not all agreed. When Wilbur declared independence, George and Sapnap were the first to take Dream’s side. All three were ambitious and believed they could win. When the first battle came, George realized he was fighting and hurting his friends. Sapnap realized he was fighting children who didn’t truly know what war meant. Neither wanted the war to continue. Dream didn’t either. The war ended quickly. There were smaller battles, smaller wars. Nothing that involved a whole nation. No one in the Dream Team wanted that. As they kept upgrading, they watched L’Manberg have fun. They watched them lose and sometimes win. L’Manberg lost so much. Perhaps that was why it crumbled to dust when Schlatt came. 

Because we're so fucking mean We're so elitist We're as fucked as any church And this bullshit west coast dogma Has a higher fucking net worth I bit the apple 'cuz I loved you And why would you lie And then I realized You're just as naive as I am You're so traumatized it makes me wanna cry

Dream, George, and Sapnap. Some of the strongest fighters in the land. The best armor, the best weapons. They could buy, or steal, anything they wanted. The three of them trusted each other, relied on each other. Why would any of them betray the other two? Dream left them. He wanted more power. He landed himself in the prison and changed. He seemed smaller, sadder. Sapnap visited his old friend. He seemed traumatized. After the visit, Sapnap went to George’s houses. They talked. Sapnap returned to his own house and broke. 

You dumb bitch I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true I wanted to be you And do what you do I lived here I loved here I bought it it's true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused

He yelled at Dream in the prison. It reminded him of earlier arguments. Fights with clenched fists and subtle begs for Dream to go back to normal. Fights that broke their already crumbling friendship. Sapnap once wanted to be his friend. Confident and powerful. The land of the Dream SMP where Sapnap built his home. He should have seen the warning signs. His friend hurt him and now he didn’t know what to do. 

Well I don't wanna eat the rich I'd have to eat my hero's first And my tuition's paid by blood I might deserve your fate or worse But I don't need your goddamn money I don't need jack shit from you So when I speak you bet your life my words are true

Quackity was Schlatt’s right hand man. They were friends, perhaps more. He joint his votes with Schlatt’s during the election. When George bailed on him, Schlatt was Quackity’s hero. He went through so much to stay with Schlatt. He went through abuse, verbal, mental, and physical, to be with the president. He oversaw the Festival to keep power. He saw a young boy get torn apart by rockets to keep his position. He snapped by the end. He didn’t need Schlatt. He learn from the former president. He changed. 

Let me level with you man As someone guilty of the game I took the help I took the cash I would've taken your last name So if any girl on earth Should get to make a call about this It would be me and as I see it You're a dick

He tried to talk Schlatt out of it. By the end of his presidency, he was more drunk and crude then ever before. Quackity saw a man who had helped him and Quackity wanted him to be better. Schlatt wouldn’t change. Schlatt stiill saw himself as above others. Quackity rose up in the past few months. He took Schlatt’s help and influence. He took anything he was offered. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to help Schlatt. He saw Schlatt at his glory and his fall. He saw the best and worse and everything in between. Schlatt was beyond saving. 

So fuck your tunnels fuck your cars Fuck your rockets fuck your cars again You promised you'd be Tesla But you're just another Edison Because Tesla broke a patent All you ever broke were hearts I can't believe you tore humanity apart With the very same machines That could've been our brand new start

Fuck everything that Schlatt had. His power, his office, his mercenaries, his land. He tried his best to break the people who resisted him. He destroyed what the country stood for. He showed everyone his true colors at the Festival. He forced Technoblade into killing Tubbo with rockets. The same fireworks that could have signaled a new land. The same boy who represented the future. Schlatt destroyed L’Manberg, even if Wilbur was the one who blew it up. 

And the worst part is I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true And sometimes I feel like I still fucking do I lived here I loved here I thought it was true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused

The part that made shame rise in Quackity’s throat was that he did care about Schlatt. Maybe he still did. He lived in Manberg, he loved its president and yet he saw it turn to rubble. He was ashamed to have been the one who worked closest with Schlatt. Some people forgave him, some didn’t. Tubbo forgave him. He worked with Tubbo, after Schlatt’s death. He amassed enough power to still be part of the government. He wondered if it was worth it.

I feel so used I feel so used Take me to the moon Because I feel so used I feel so used

~~~

Inspired by Rät by Penelope Scott

Masterlist

https://thelullabyer12.tumblr.com/post/639129395216433152/masterlist-of-2021

[imaginingsoftly]

Trouble - Travis Konecny

Type: enemies to friends, Y/N insert 

Requested: No

Warnings: none

A/N: I’m working on a new series, although it’s going incredibly slowly, so here’s a little something on Konecny until I can start getting parts of the series out!

This was officially the worst day of your life. As if getting screamed at by no less than 5 middle-aged women at work and then heading home to your roommate and her boyfriend fighting again wasn’t bad enough, now you were sitting in your least favorite person’s apartment covered in wine and trying not to cry. Nolan at least had the grace to look sorry for dumping two full glasses of wine all over your neck and shoulders, though at that point even the most enthusiastic of apologies wouldn’t have mattered. 

“Y/N, I..” you held up a hand. If you didn’t get out of the room in the next five seconds you were going to lose it in front of Nolan and everybody else. Madison, the friend that had dragged you into this disaster in the first place, tried to go after you, but Ivan held her back. You thought you heard him whisper to give you a minute, but he spoke too quietly to be sure. It would have been hard to hear over the roaring in your ears anyway.

The mirror in Travis’ bathroom only served to make you feel worse. The wine had soaked through your shirt, staining the white tank top to the point that you knew it wasn’t going to come out. The shirt was the least of your current issues, though. It was the state of your brand new bra that finally broke you. The white lace, so beautiful when you’d bought it the day before, was now stained a dark red. You clutched the bathroom counter, trying to relax even as tears began to leak out of your eyes. “Trouble?” A knock sounded at the door, and you hurriedly wiped at your face. Travis would laugh if he saw you crying over some spilled wine. Hell, he’d probably make some kind of comment about city girls and being high maintenance. “Trouble, you okay in there?”

You opened the door to a laughing Travis, though his face quickly changed when he saw the mascara pooling under your eyes. “Y/N?” His hands came up to cup your shoulders awkwardly as you broke down. If Travis was calling you by your first name rather than that stupid nickname he’d given you, then you must really look bad. “Oh, sweetheart.” Travis pulled you in tightly for a hug, ignoring your muffled protests about the wine you were still covered in. He smelled good, like laundry detergent and some kind of musky cologne, and you took a deep breath. The smell settled into your lungs and your breathing calmed slightly. 

“Come on.” Travis pulled back slightly. “Let’s get you a new shirt, yeah? Maybe see if we can get the stain out of that one.” You were fairly certain that wouldn’t happen, but he was being nice to you for once. You’d take that for as long as possible. 

His room was just about what you’d expected. He wasn’t dirty, per say, but it certainly wasn’t spotless. His suit from the game the night before was discarded on a chair, and workout clothes sat in a pile next to the hamper rather than in it. Travis stepped through a door you assumed led to a closet, returning seconds later with a t-shirt and some sweatpants. “It’s on your jeans a little bit too, so if you give me everything I can get it washed real quick before the stain really sets in.” He was being weirdly thoughtful and you wondered if there was a prank coming. “There’s makeup remover in the top drawer if you want to use it. My ex left it in the bathroom one time and I never got rid of it.” He held out the clothes with a small smile. You took them gratefully, mumbling out a thank you as you slid past him and into the bathroom he pointed at. 

There had to be some kind of a trick involved. Your brain was going a million miles a minute trying to comprehend why Travis was suddenly being nice to you, and why he’d offered you clothes so easily. He was never this nice to you. To the guys, sure, and to others, but never to you. Still, clothes were clothes and he was offering to get rid of the stains. You’d take whatever you could get. Plus, you thought as you slid into the sweatpants, they were super comfy and they smelled like Travis. As weird as it was, the smell was comforting. 

A swipe of the makeup remover across your eyes removed the last of your makeup, and then you felt almost like yourself again. Well, other than the fact that you’d apparently entered an alternate universe where Travis didn’t hate you. Travis was waiting on the bed when you exited the bathroom, swimming in his clothes. He smiled softly at the sight, and your stomach twisted slightly. That look was new. He wasn’t supposed to be looking at you in a nice way, so what the hell was going on? “Uh, Travis, you good?” Travis jerked when you spoke, literally shaking his head to focus again. It almost brought a laugh out of you. 

He took your clothes before you could protest and began backing towards the hallway. “So, uh, I’ll go put some stainstick on these and throw them in the washer. Everybody else is filtering out, and, uh, we can get you home once your clothes are clean?” Travis nodded to himself and took off, leaving you standing in the middle of his room confused. Why in the hell was the cockiest person on the planet nervous around you all of a sudden?

Madison poked her head in as you remained frozen in the same spot. She smirked when she saw the clothes you were wearing, and jerked her chin at you. “You good here with Trav? Ivan suddenly wants to get home really really badly.” She winked conspiratorially, and you laughed. 

“Go ahead. Have fun with your boy. I’ll be fine.” Madison giggled, and then she was gone. You began to step towards the door, tired of standing awkwardly in Travis’ room. The sound filtering down the hallway was noticeably quieter than it had been ten minutes before, and you weren’t shocked to see Nolan was the only person besides Travis still remaining in the apartment. 

Nolan stepped in your direction with bright red cheeks and a sheepish expression. “Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry.” You shook your head as if to say don’t worry about it, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “So, I’m gonna go, but I just wanted you to know that I didn’t mean to. And if your shirt is ruined I’ll get you a new one, I promise.”

You chuckled, pulling the taller man in for a hug. “It’s okay, Nols. I know it was an accident.” He mumbled another apology into the top of your head. “I just had a really shitty day, and for whatever reason that’s what broke me.” Nolan made a sympathetic noise and ruffled your hair. Travis appeared from the kitchen to bro hug Nolan, and then it was just the two of you. You looked down at your feet, rocking onto your tiptoes awkwardly. There were no more buffers. It was just you and this newly friendly Travis. 

“So,” Travis said, “a really shitty day?” Footsteps came closer as you continued looking down at your feet, and then Travis’ sock-covered toes appeared in your view. “I promise I just wanna hear about it. No funny business.” 

His face looked serious when you finally looked up. It was the concern in his eyes that had you opening your mouth. “I co-own a coffee shop with my cousin. I think Madison has mentioned it before?” Travis nodded in recognition, and you continued. “I normally don’t do a whole bunch behind the counter, because I don’t have the disposition to deal with assholes. I’m more of a numbers person, and she’s the customer service queen. She was out sick today, so I had to work behind the counter. We had a PTA group come in for one of their cliquey gossip sessions today, and apparently I am completely incompetent and can’t make a cup of coffee worth a damn.” Travis winced accordingly. 

“And then,” you continued, all warmed up and ready to rant, “I finally get home after working from about 4am to 8pm, and my roommate and her fucking boyfriend were screaming at each other. Again. That’ll be about the fourth fucking time they’ve broken up this month. It’s only the 20th.” He was a cheating piece of shit, but your roommate didn’t want to see that. It was frustrating to no end.

“I called Madison to see if I could stay with her for the night, since my roommate and her boyfriend will probably be fucking all night, and instead she drags me here, where I get to deal with some hotshot hockey player that hates my fucking guts, and then Nolan dumps half a fucking bottle of wine on me and all of a sudden you’re being nice and I just really need a hug.” 

You were wound up, breathing a little heavily, and Travis looked shell-shocked. Suddenly he stepped closer, and for the second time that night you were wrapped up in Travis’ arms. “I don’t hate you.” He squeezed you a little tighter as he spoke, as if to emphasize his words. “You do intimidate the hell out of me though.” You leaned your forehead against his chest contentedly, chuckling a little bit. “Seriously. You’re all smart and sexy and you own a fucking business. I’ve always just wanted to be your friend, but you never got along with me like you did the other guys.”

His arms loosened slightly as you jerked back. “I never hated you. I thought you hated me.” Travis laughed, shaking his head in slight confusion. “So we could’ve been friends all along, we just thought the other person hated us?” You felt a smile creep up your face. Of course this would happen to you. 

Travis held out a hand. “Friends?”

You laughed, gripping his hand with one of your own. “Friends.”

[sombreboy]

Mused obsession (4)

Written by @sombreboy​​​ as Jungkook & @chimoona​​​​​ as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog​​​​​

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 9k ⇢Ch.warnings: profanity, jealous jk, tattooing, light descriptions of blood/pain, exhibitionist jk oh boy, graphic desc. of piercing jk's cock (I'm no piercer so don't take this literally it's fiction, infections don't exist in this world pls be sanitary.), more intense sexual tension because why not, jk is a total sadomasochist and this you need to remember forever for every damn chapter. xo

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

The next morning Jungkook’s alarm went off early, and he groaned out curses. For once, he didn’t want to wake up. The quality of sleep he’d gotten was a rarity in his life, all thanks to the man laying next to him. Jungkook turns the alarm off before clinging to Jimin, pressing soft kisses on the crook of his neck, wishing he could stay in bed forever.

It isn’t the alarm that rouses Jimin but the motion of Jungkook behind him. Gentle kisses tickle his neck and strong arms hold him close—a kind comforting touch he hasn’t felt since his ex. He turns to face the man, pressing his parted mouth to his, still groggy with sleep. “Good morning,” he coos, brushing his plump lips down Jungkook’s flushed neck before resting in the indent of his collar.  He slept well enough, but the unfamiliar setting caused him to wake a couple times throughout the night. Even then, Jungkook’s warmth and protective hold coaxed him back to sleep. “What day is it?” He wonders out loud, not ready to sit up and check for himself. The mixture of liquor from the night before doesn’t help his focus in the slightest, feeling slightly hungover and lethargic. “Have you seen my phone?” He dreads the many messages he probably has from his manager, or even Tae.

Jungkook hums, ignoring every single question being thrown at him. He just wants to hold Jimin forever. But eventually, he reaches over to the nightstand where he’s placed the elder’s phone and hands it over, then cuddles up close to get a look at the screen as well. He’s extremely curious after all—does anybody miss Jimin? How easy would it possibly be to just...keep him?

No, that’s too early. Things take time.

“I don’t know, but there’s breakfast ready whenever you’re hungry...” Jungkook murmurs with a raspy morning voice.

“Mm, sounds good…” Just as Jimin suspected, ten messages and four phone calls. Most are from his manager, a couple from Taehyung apologizing, and one from… interesting. Jimin flicks off the covers from his side of the bed and wriggles out of Jungkook’s arms, regrettably.  “Breakfast sounds great,” he picks his robe from the floor and wraps it around himself in a hurry, “I just need to make a few phone calls.” He leans onto the bed and gives the younger a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll make it quick, promise.”

Before Jungkook has a chance to reply, Jimin steps out onto the attached balcony and closes the door behind him. First thing’s first, he definitely needs to let his manager know he’s not dead in a ditch. However, more importantly, he’s dying to know why his ex messaged him out of the blue after so many months of silence. He’s a vague man. The only thing his text said was “Proud.”

Jungkook’s lip twitches as he watches the blonde close the balcony door in a hurry. What is so important? He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit curious...and frustrated. He doesn’t like secrets, even if Jimin doesn’t owe him anything... technically . Jungkook wants to know, and he will, eventually. The photographer lays low, gets out of bed to puts on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. He grabs his own phone and sits back down, scrolling through social media... Jimin’s show was a hit, trending, both photos and praise, on the news. Of course, there were the photos of Jungkook, smiling as he was enjoying the show—which also drew a whole lot more attention towards the blonde, as if making Jeon Jungkook smile was an achievement. Jungkook scoffs, but nonetheless happy about the many pictures available of Jimin, saving several to his phone as he continuously glances over at the balcony.

Who is he calling… Kook cranes his neck to try and decipher Jimin’s facial expressions, but can’t quite make it out...

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. No, Jeon didn’t kidnap me and hide me in his basement. No—GOD, what kind of man do you think I am? Yeah…yeah…okay, thanks for covering. It went really well? Trending? Goood…okay, yeah, thanks for calling. Sorry to worry you…bye.” Jimin checks in with his manager. They’re annoying as hell but they mean well. He shoots Tae a quick text, telling him to sleep it off.  Then Jimin flicks through his contact list until his thumb hovers over the one name he didn’t think he’d ever call again—Seung-Ho.  The man started as a lifestyle influencer, wearing Lululemon shorts at Machu Picchu or casually eating the latest novelty hipster food with a bright smile on his face. Now he’s the brand ambassador and face of Jimin’s biggest competitor.

“Jimin, baby…,” he coos over the receiver. “I’m so proud…”

Inside, Jungkook grows restless, bouncing his leg with clasped hands as he stares at Jimin through the glass door. Who is he talking to? Why is it taking so damn long? Why did he hover over the screen for several seconds before pressing the call button? He didn’t want to wait any longer—who is more important than Jungkook? Normally, the younger is extremely patient in every other aspect of his life, but when it comes to Jimin giving somebody else his attention, it runs out quick. He gets up to saunter over to the balcony door, carefully sliding it open to eavesdrop.

“Seung-ie—“ Jimin catches himself, “Seung-Ho.” He rolls his face in his palm. It’s too early in the morning to have this conversation with the ghost of his past. Regardless, he’s very curious to know why he reached out after all this time. “Why did you text me? To say you’re proud?” He can’t help but smile a little when the man on the other line praises his clothing collection. Apparently Seung was in the audience the whole time, absolutely loved Jimin’s little speech, and even took note of how well the model looked on stage under all the glowing lights. He laughs, recalling the last time he took Jimin out on a date—how he spilled slushie all over his pure white button up and they had to make an emergency stop at Neiman Marcus for a spare.

“I miss you, Mochi,” he says lowly from the other side, deep and seductive. “When can I see you again?”

Seung-ie?… Seung-Ho. Why does the name sound familiar?  Jungkook rolls his tongue against the fleshy inside of his cheek, listening for merely a minute before he decides it’s enough. He announces his presence by snaking his arms around Jimin’s waist, placing his chin in the crook of the elders neck, placing soft kisses against it.

Mine…

Kook leans in to whisper into Jimin’s ear, “I’m hungry…”

It distracts Jimin’s train of thought to have Jungkook kissing his sensitive neck. One ounce of attention from the man and he is absolute putty.

“Who was that?” Jimin hears Seung-Ho chime from the other end.

“I’ve got to go, but thank you for coming to the show,” Jimin replies, wrapping up the call. He presses the end button and turns in Jungkook’s arms to face him. He looks annoyed to say the least, but he doesn’t blame him, he would be too. “Just a stupid ex,” Jimin whispers before melding his lips to the other man’s. “Let’s eat…”

 Jungkook grasps and guides Jimin’s chin between his long, tattooed fingers to face him. “Why’d they call you?” He’s no longer subtle with his concern, the mere mention of an ex causes his eyebrows to furrow. “They bothering you?” He continues, his fingers tightening ever slightly around the blondes chin, his face so close that their lips graze together with every word spoken. His other hand remains wrapped around Jimin’s waist, keeping their bodies tightly pressed together, as if the elder would disappear if he didn’t hold him.

Jimin rolls his eyes and tries to shake off the goosebumps still prickling from Seung-Ho’s compliments. “He’s probably bored,” he covers, still not entirely sure why the man reached out. He said he was proud, but why should Jimin care what he thinks? As Jungkook’s hold tightens, Jimin feels the need to be honest, as if the truth is being squeezed from him. “He liked the show. Wants to see me again, but...,” he squeezes Jungkook back, “I’m far too busy.”

“Too bad for him.” Jungkook mutters, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feels Jimin’s reassuring squeeze. He feels his stomach rumble, looping his fingers between Jimin’s as he pulls the elder with him inside towards the dining hall.  If the blonde isn’t already constantly reminded by the wealth the young photographer possesses, this would be one of many reminders. A large table filled with all kinds of breakfast delicacies greet them, way too much for one, two or even three people. This might as well be a buffet for a party. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so...I got everything.” Kook shrugs, as if this isn’t his everyday life anyway, zeroing his eyes in on the fridge filled with his favorite beverage.

Jimin never has to leave. Every little thing that could possibly accommodate his needs is right here in the photographer’s house. “There’s so much to choose from...” Jimin’s hunger increases the longer he looks. He doesn’t even feed himself most of what’s available, but he almost feels like he’s on vacation, so he grabs a pastry and quickly devours it before the guilt sinks in. The flakey, sugary taste is sweeter than sweet as it hits his lips. “Here…” he lifts the danish to Jungkook’s mouth and coaxes him to take a bite without a second thought. The instinctual domestic nature is less and less jarring the longer he stays.

Jungkook’s eyes widen a tad bit in surprise at the sudden gesture, but quickly grasps Jimin’s wrist to guide the pastry to his mouth, chomping off a large piece. His eyes flutter shut with a quiet hum in content—his adoration for sweets so strong that one would wonder how the hell he has the physique he does. “You’re a man of taste,” he chuckles, bringing the straw of his drink to his lips to wash the pastry down. He could definitely get used to having Jimin here, seeing the elders' reactions to his everyday life, so adorable. Having somebody here is a nice change. Sharing this with him is all Jungkook starts to crave. “Try the fruit. Get me some grapes.”

The grapes grabbed Jimin’s attention right away—so ripe and juicy. He lifts a vine from the table and plucks off a single grape, popping it into his mouth and biting down with a satisfying crunch. A light moan tickles his throat, unable to contain how much he enjoys every bit of this.  “Want one?” He plucks another grape and grasps it between his teeth, bringing it up to Jungkook’s lips to feed him directly.

With a smile, Jungkook leans in to bite the exposed half of the grape and within the same movement, grasps Jimin’s waist to push their hips together. “Want you ,” he shamelessly admits, digging his long fingers into the blonde’s sides, tipping his head forward to press a soft kiss on his plush lips. Jimin is already acting more and more in the manners that Jungkook wants; so sweet and almost domestic, like they’re actually together. He really likes it...and in his own mind, they might as well be. He has no eyes for anybody else since he saw the blonde step into his photo session.

Jimin’s hold tightens, digging to be grounded in reality while his mind floats somewhere else. He doesn’t know what’s come over him, feeling so clingy and lustful since the second Jungkook called him “baby.” “N-need you,” he says quietly. His eyes fall away from the other man as his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He isn’t sure what exactly he needs, but every little facet of his time with the photographer is so overwhelmingly euphoric he can’t imagine being apart.

One of Jungkook’s hands moves up the elders body until he reaches his neck, carefully sliding down the robe on one side to expose his small shoulder. “Yeah?” He nuzzles his nose into Jimin’s neck. Fuck, he smells so nice... A deep inhale follows, unable to resist the urge to brush his lips against Jimin’s soft skin. This man is the human embodiment of a drug.

“Yeah,” Jimin replies, weak in the knees. He pushes his robe down further for Jungkook to feel and breathe in any part he desires. He does the same to the other man, tugging the robe loose until it hangs slack around his back. He kisses his way up his built arm, paying close attention to the tattoos that decorate his skin.  “Didn’t expect you to have so many,” Jimin notes with lips pressed lightly to a dark tattoo engraved in his shoulder. “I’ve always wanted more. Love the way they look.”

“Want a tattoo?” Jungkook muses. The mere thought clashes in his mind. Jimin’s skin is precious , not just any tattoo would be good enough. He sighs at the sensation of the elders lips and knows exactly who he’d choose to fulfill his wishes, if he wanted. There’s nobody he’d ever trust more than his personal tattoo artist, Kim Namjoon. He’d lie if he said he wasn’t anticipating the sounds the blonde would make as soon as the needles graze his tender skin... “What would you get?”

Jimin lifts the hem of his robe, exposing his naked thigh. “It would need to be special. Maybe something small. I’m thinking here...” he motions to the taut muscle, pure and unmarked. Jimin surveys Jungkook’s expression as he rubs a thumb over the flesh, “Wouldn’t it look pretty here, Jeon?” Clearly the younger appreciates body markings. It’s only fair his input is taken into consideration. He is, after all, the one who unknowingly influenced Jimin to finally do it.

Jungkook crouches down in front of him, allowing his slender, inked fingers to smooth down Jimin’s thigh until he reaches the part that’s meant for the tattoo. He takes a short moment to just admire the firm, untouched skin before gazing up at the blonde. “It would look gorgeous...I have the perfect person for the job. Maybe after today’s fitting?” He tilts his head in question, wondering if the model would truly be up for it. If Jimin mentions he wants something, Jungkook can’t get it out of his mind until he has it. Was it a small comment in the heat of the moment?

For Jimin, it’s so easy to just say yes when Jungkook asks a question. His wide bambi eyes sparkle with intrigue, and who is Jimin to strip that joy from him?

“Yes,” he answers, a little hesitant. He was just playing around to get a rise out of the younger man, but the idea of getting permanently marked while Jungkook watches is even more exhilarating. “But after the fitting. I need to be in top shape if I’m going to get down on my knees and measure you properly.”

Jungkook’s expression lights up—a yes is definitely what he wanted to hear. He knows he’ll have to set the plan in motion, because Jimin wants it.

“That I agree with,” Jungkook coyly replies with a crooked eyebrow. The playful spark in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed as he leans in to kiss the blonde’s thigh. He plants a soft peck before standing up to cup Jimin’s cheeks. “Have you eaten enough? We should get ready.”

Jimin quickly devours another danish before his body tells him not to, living just a little longer in the fantasy world Jungkook created. It really is too good here, and with the other man adoring every facet of his being, it’s very hard to leave. Leaving Jungkook to finish his breakfast, Jimin finds his way to the nearest shower and instantly gravitates to the shampoo Jungkook lathered him with the night before. It’s a comforting smell that is now regrettably faint on his skin from a deep sleep. He hurries to coat himself in it, head to toe, blissing in the cloud of humidified scent blooming under the warm cascade of heat. After a short while, he steps out, feeling like a new man, ready to give Jungkook the suit of his dreams and repay him for everything.

Jungkook doesn’t bother with a shower, but simply gets dressed and waits. He runs his hand through his messy locks. The ruffled look adds to his childish yet not so innocent charm, juxtaposed against his black dress shirt that fits his firm physique, paired with black jeans. It’s a casual look, yet his adorning jewelry showcases that he is anything but ordinary, with many shiny rings and an expensive necklace that rests at the base of his neck.  While waiting for Jimin, Jungkook lays down on his couch and contacts Namjoon to make sure he’s available and ready after the fitting. He’s giddy to surprise Jimin with the news... later .

All the while, Jimin wrapped back into his robe and padded down to Jungkook’s studio in hopes of retrieving his clothes, however, he found them neatly folded on a decorative console table just outside. The studio door was shut and locked tight, which he found slightly odd for a mere photography studio. Regardless, he was sure Jungkook had his reasons. He changed into his clothes from the night before and finessed his hair into a presentable style with a bit of product he found laying around. It’s not best practice in the world of fashion to be seen in public wearing the same thing twice, but he made an exception for the day.

Eventually, Jungkook grew bored and decided to go find the blonde roaming around his house, only to find all ready in yesterday's outfit. Cute.

“Ready to go? Car’s waiting outside for us.” He reaches out with grabby hands for Jimin, waiting for him to get the hint; to run to him. The younger wishes for the domestic feeling to never go away, and he was curious how the blonde would act among other people.

Luckily for Jungkook, Jimin got the hint right away and walked towards him quickly, still taking the time to admire his fit as he approached. Today is going to be difficult— how can he build upon perfection? It’s hard not to implode by how cute Jungkook is, looking the way he does, so effortless and cool; truly a muse fit for the occasion. “Ready,” Jimin nods, smiling widely and snuggling into Jungkook’s arms to enjoy a few last moments in this fantasyland before transitioning back to Park Jimin, the supermodel and fashion aficionado.

Jungkook cups the blonde’s cheek and guides his face to look up at him—a last close up look before their one-on-one dynamic would be broken, momentarily. His butterfly truly has a duality to him that is admirable, however the way the elder can easily crumble for him is incredible.

“Okay, let’s go.” He flashes his signature toothy smile and turns to guide them to the waiting car. His arm tightly grips Jimin’s waist until he has to let go to hold the door open for him.

~

Preparations were made on Jimin’s part during the ride. It seems his assistant is used to last-minute bookings since he started his Be Your Light collection. Last-minute tailorings for industry events and spontaneous all-nighters when inspiration struck. For this occasion, he requested that all the materials be ready for him to use alone—No assistants. The attention would be purely put on Jungkook. Just like the photographer’s preferred work style, Jimin wanted no distractions.

It was go-time the second they arrived—Jimin’s assistant guided the two men into a secluded wing of his studio where a myriad of patterns, leathers and fabrics were laid out.

“This is perfect, thank you,” Jimin nods his approval and flashes a sparkling smile, then begins to pull together his measuring tools. “Jeon, please, take a look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”

Jungkook begins to stroll around the different materials to work with, fingers smoothing over the fabrics tentatively.  His eyes keep looking back and forth between the black silk and leather. He always tended to like darker, edgier themes, but the soft and shiny material is so comfortable to touch. Jungkook grasps it in his hand and holds it up for Jimin to see with a lopsided and challenging smirk on his lips.

“Could you make me something with this?”

“There’s a lot I can do with that.”

Jimin strolls up to feel the smooth silk beneath his fingertips. Leather would have been a fine choice for its stability and durability, but he likes a challenge. “Black silk,” he notes, plucking the swatch from Jungkook’s hands to inspect it further, “it can be very complimentary to your skin tone.” He rubs his thumb over the rise and fall of the fabric’s exterior—a faint textured brocade, so unique and fitting for the man—dark, yet subdued. “If I tailor it just right, it can hold your shape or flow loose, if you choose.” His designer mind flicks on and he plots the form internally. “What kind of event do you plan to attend in a silk suit, Jeon?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jungkook shrugs, a smile mixed between sheepish and coy replacing his challenging smirk. His eyes follow Jimin’s delicate fingers as they smoothe over the fabrics, already wishing they were on him instead. Growing impatient, he jumps a bit in his position. “I want the silk, make it fitted…” He muses for a moment. “And a low front?”

“A low front, huh?” Jimin glides a hand down the front of Jungkook’s shirt and tugs a little to reveal his defined collarbones. “A very wise choice,” he smirks, releasing the shirt with a snap, “take this off, I’ll need to get close to your body for the tightest fit.” He takes a couple steps back to give Jungkook space, itching to rid the shirt and everything else. However, this is a big opportunity to make something neoteric and special. The process will be the greatest test of his patience.

“Everything?” Jungkook coyly replies as he pulls his shirt over his head, shamelessly exposing his upper body to Jimin. He kind of likes this side of Jimin. No, scrap that–he really likes it. The photographer is rarely ever told what to do, and the elders' confidence and passion for his work is just adding to the younger's growing infatuation.

Jimin bites his lip at the question. “Eager, aren’t we?” His fingers fall to Jungkook’s waist, gliding across his exposed hips and down to his belt buckle. “No, Jeon, just the shirt for now.” He gives the buckle a light tap and then steps behind the photographer, releasing a soft sigh at the smooth expanse of flesh he’s blessed to dress any way he likes. “We’ll start with the top and work our way down. Now stay nice and relaxed, I want to make sure the measurements are precise.”

Jungkook’s coy pout matches the mischief in his eyes as he glances over his shoulder at the blonde. “Yes, Mr. Park.” He turns his head back to look straight forward, letting his arms dangle loosely on his sides. “Take your time with me.” Jungkook really dragged out the way he said the elders last name, as if they weren’t already past the point of formalities.

Jimin takes his time to touch and measure Jungkook’s torso until he has every inch of muscle definition saved to memory. The younger’s enthusiasm encourages him to work with full concentration as he daydreams about the low neckline and how he’ll form it. However, he’s easily snapped from his thoughts whenever he is referred to as “Mr. Park,” like he’s never been called the name before. When it rolls off of Jungkook’s tongue, it’s no longer a name given at birth but a name given to tease. He drapes the measuring tape around the back of his neck and pauses, taking one last second to admire all of Jungkook’s tattoos, fully exposed just for him. What a predicament he’s gotten himself into. He doesn’t want to rush the process, but once the pants come off, he may need to pick up the pace.

“Now the pants, Jeon,” Jimin instructs with the firmest tone he can muster, “take them off for me.”

Jungkook cocks a playful eyebrow at the elder male, letting his hands work his belt to slowly unbuckle it. “You’re so cute when you’re bossy.” He unzips and peels his pants down, letting them fall and pool by his feet before stepping out of them, standing in nothing but his boxers. It’s new, being the one to follow orders. But, the way Jimin tries so hard to remain professional is the best part. So the photographer plays along, curious as to how long the blonde can hold his mask before it crumbles.

Jimin continues to act like he doesn’t want to take advantage of Jungkook’s vulnerable state, which is even harder than it looks.

“I’m always cute,” he responds just a little too late and winks at the younger man. He doesn’t know what he’s saying at this point. His brain switches to autopilot once Jungkook’s thick thighs become visible. All he can think to do is take a deep breath, bend to his knees and measure.  Measure, measure. He jots down his findings on a small notepad to keep his hands busy. The process is almost complete—just one more measurement and Jungkook can get dressed. Jimin places his palms on Jungkook’s inner thigh to hold the measuring tape in place for the inseam.  “Hold still,” he asks quietly, feeling small and meek under the younger man’s gaze, “I’m almost done.” His hand soothes over the expanse of his exposed flesh, lingering a little longer than professionally advised.

Jungkook firmly places his hands on his hips as he gazes down at the blonde from above. His potent stare along with the confidence practically oozing off of him is sure to make just about anybody nervous. However, it is Jimin that he wants to bring to his knees, and conveniently enough, he already is. Before Jimin could properly measure his inner thigh, Jungkook playfully reaches his hand down to brush the blonde locks away from Jimin’s face, then runs his long fingers through it, giving a light tug before withdrawing.

“Done?”

Jimin shudders from the tug at his roots, causing his muscles to tense from the pleasure and proximity of the man above. He can’t resist the effect Jungkook’s beautiful hands have on him, especially when they’re carded through his soft hair, caressing him any way they please. “Almost done,” he says in a low tone, aching to deflect attention from the growing tent in his pants. “But if you keep distracting me, we’ll be here all day.” He glides his hand higher up the younger man’s inner thigh until it touches the hemline of his briefs. “Would you like that, Jeon?”

“Is that a question or a proposition?” Jungkook’s light smirk doesn’t go unnoticed. His hand doesn’t leave the blonde’s curls as he twirls the light ends between his fingers. God, did he love to tease the model, who’s eyes seem to dilate with lust as they gaze up at him with innocence. But Jungkook knows by now that he is far from the angel he initially presented himself as.

Jimin replies with a smirk of his own, dragging his small fingertips down the younger’s inner thigh to take the last measurement. He purposefully brushes the back of his hand against the bulge in Jungkook’s briefs and teases him through the fabric for just a second, then withdraws completely as if nothing happened. “I’ll pass my notes to my assistant so she can begin the preliminary steps—shouldn’t take long.” He stands to his feet and steps so close to Jungkook that their bodies nearly touch. “You did great, Jeon. You can get dressed now.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose in a small, toothy smile. The blonde really tried to play him at his own game. Well, if that’s what he wants... He nods lightly before turning around to bend over and pick his clothes up, slowly putting the fabrics on one by one without a word. Maybe Jimin expected a different reaction, but Jungkook wanted the blonde pining rather than simply giving him what he wanted.  As he is fully dressed, he turns back to face Jimin and reaches out to caress his cheek with the back of his hand. “I'm thrilled to see what you come up with… Now, are we done for today?”

“That’s a wrap,” Jimin nods, internally cursing himself for encouraging Jungkook to dress so quickly. Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to show some affection now that the measurements are recorded.  He melts into Jungkook’s caress and curls his arm around the small of his waist to guide him to the door. He peeks up at the taller man beneath his blonde fringe, feeling more relaxed now that he doesn’t have to focus on drafting the suit.

“So, about this tattoo...”

Jungkook’s face lights up at the mention. “Yes! Do you wanna go now?” He is a tad bit over excited about the fact, as he’s made sure that Namjoon was ready to clear his schedule the very second he made the call.  Kook wraps his arm around Jimin’s shoulder to pull him close as they head towards the waiting car. He may have asked, but his mind is already made up—Jimin is getting that tattoo.

“I’m a little nervous,” Jimin confesses, grasping the car door handle and hesitantly tugging it open, “It’s been a while.” He slides into his seat and gets comfortable next to Jungkook. He’s a little out of his element, but he trusts the man, surprisingly enough. He can’t pinpoint why, but he finds solace in his touch—a sense of calm that makes him feel like he could tackle anything. “I don’t even know what I’m going to get,” he laughs, “Shit, Jeon, what did you talk me into?”

“Do you trust me?” Jungkook’s eyes fall on Jimin as he says so, repeating the same words he once said back at their first photoshoot. Without a response, he gives a vague wave of his hand and the chauffeur begins to drive. He places his hand on Jimin’s thigh and let’s it rest there, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.

It’s not just Jungkook’s words or his touch that pulls Jimin closer—it’s the undivided attention, and his tranquil gaze. Every now and then, Jimin swears he can see the man’s soul in his dark irises. They’re so receptive and kind, but piercing and cool, all at once.

“I trust you,” he speaks above a whisper. Just as he did at their first photo shoot, Jimin places his full and complete trust in Jungkook’s hands. He’s a proven visionary—not only a renowned artist but a man with true vision. If he wants this permanent marking to have the greatest meaning, he’ll leave the final decision up to Jeon Jungkook. That moment in the glass room changed Jimin—seeing his faults fall between the cracks of those mirrored shards, scattered across the floor. He owes this to him. Everything that’s come from that moment has only made Jimin stronger—a better version of himself. “I want you to choose what I get.”

‘‘Really?’‘ Jungkook’s doe eyes widen before they squint in a smile. Small wrinkles appear in the corners of his eyes, adorning his skin. He feels butterflies erupting in his chest at the way Jimin willfully gives his trust. He seems entirely head over heels, and that’s exactly what he wants. Jungkook cranes his neck to close the last bit of distance between their lips in a sweet kiss. He pulls back just enough to stare at how Jimin gazes back in awe, only to lean forward and place another kiss on his plush lips...and another, and another. It’s like a drug. Lips, intoxicating, the way they envelope his with loving care.

Jimin presses back firmly to Jungkook and unbuckles his seatbelt to get closer. There’s far too much pent-up energy and nerves in his body to resist. He moves his hand to the back of the younger man’s neck and guides the kiss. He pulls him deeper, gliding his velvety tongue along Jungkooks, crawling into his lap and straddling him face-to-face.  “Really,” he breathes against his hot lips, “Want you to mark me, sir.”

Jungkook can tell that Jimin’s words have double meaning, which causes him to smile.  The plush of his bottom lip grazes the blonde’s. “It’s a promise, butterfly,” he whispers smoothly as his hands settle in a firm grip on Jimin’s hip bones, squeezing lightly to feel the soft flesh push out between his fingers. Jimin always seemed so fragile when he was like this, yet the innocence in his eyes is nowhere to be seen when he’s slowly becoming corrupted by Jungkook’s various temptations.

Jimin soaks in the feeling of Jungkook’s hands on his hips and allows them to hold him close for the duration of the ride. He wants them to hold him everywhere at once, but unfortunately, Jeon Jungkook isn’t Vishnu with four arms. However, at least in Jimin’s mind, he is god-like. Is it odd for him to think so highly of a man he’s known for less than a week? Life moves quickly in the world of fashion—working partnerships are just another part of it. In the words of Heidi Klum, “one day you’re in, and the next, you’re out.” At this point, he’ll do anything to stay in.

The model cards his fingers through Jungkook’s soft hair as he slides off his lap, giving him a small peck on the lips before settling back into his seat. The car pulls up to the curb of the shop; Jimin instantly feels his tingly heartbeat in the tips of fingers as they wrap around the door handle.  A moment of pause, then... “Lets get it,” he breathes out in a wisp of a laugh.

Jungkook smiles as he leans over Jimin to place his long fingers on top of the blonde’s, unlocking the door with him to push it open. As they head inside, the bell to the shop chimes.

“Jungkookie!” They’re met with a dimpled smile greeting them across the room, pen in-hand, working on a sketch. The man stands up to approach the two and gives Jungkook a hug before doing the same to Jimin.

He surely isn’t shy.  

“Is this Jimin? I’m Namjoon.” He takes a step back to observe the blonde, shooting a quick glance at Jungkook that basically says ‘nice.’

Jimin straightens his posture to give the best impression as it seems this man is not only the one about to stick needles in his flesh, but also a good friend of Jungkook’s. As he’s quickly gathered, it’s a rare occasion to meet anyone Jungkook would call a friend. Jimin can only imagine what he makes of his relationship with the photographer. Namjoon’s dark-lined eyes hold firm on Jimin’s, almost softening to put him at ease. “Park Jimin,” the model smiles, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Namjoon smiles back, his prominent dimples on display. He heads towards his desk to pick up the sketch he was working on, beckoning for the others to come closer, “Check this out.”

Jungkook steps beside Namjoon to take a look. “Perfect,” He coos, doe eyes observing the beautiful flower that Joon had sketched on the paper.

“Great,” Namjoon smiles wider, showing Jimin the sketch. It's a delicate drawing of red petals from the sage flower—the meaning behind it being ‘Forever mine,’ which is sketched in a short note at the foot of the page for reference. Joon already knew this is what Jungkook wanted for this one—always something floral, and always different meanings behind them. This one is the most meaningful one he’s ever done...and not just one more flower to be added to Jungkook’s collection on his arms.

Even on the paper, the red petals seem to burn off the page. It’s as if they’re begging to escape the confines of 2D and become immortalised forever, sunk permanently into Jimin’s flesh. He’s lost for words as he scans every detail even though he’s already set on having it on him for life.

“It really is perfect,” he smiles at the cheery dimpled man. He turns to Jungkook and is pleased to see he’s equally enthralled with the finished product. “You’ve chosen well, Jeon.” He drops his hand down onto his own hip until it lands high on his thigh. “Are we still thinking here, or…somewhere else?”

Jungkook’s eyes rake down Jimin’s body in thought for a long moment until they land on his upper thigh. It seems like the perfect spot, and watching the process will be the most enticing part of it all.

“Right here is perfect,” He agrees, placing his hand on top of Jimin’s to apply light pressure onto the firm muscle.

“Splendid,” Namjoon nods before gesturing towards the large, comfortable chair in the room. “Please remove your pants and have a seat.”

Joon heads over to his chair and rolls it over to his desk to gather necessities while waiting for the blonde to get ready.

Mind over matter—Jimin slides his pants down quickly like he would at any runway show. In a situation like this, modesty flies right out the window. In a matter of minutes he’ll be poked raw while Jungkook watches, and the thought alone makes him hastily take his seat in front of the artist, eager to begin.

“Jungkook?” Jimin asks, looking up at the tall man while he towers over him protectively, “You’ll stay here, right? You won’t leave?” His hand itches to hold his as he hears Namjoon whir the machine a couple times to prep the needles.

“I’ll be here every second,” Jungkook promises with a small nod, reaching to brush away Jimin’s fringe from his forehead before grabbing a chair to take a seat next to him, “I chose the piece after all.”

Namjoon smiles to himself at the sweet exchange, noting just how well Jungkook has Jimin wrapped around his finger. It almost reminds him of how he himself used to feel the same way, once upon a time. “Alright, take deep breaths and don’t move. Let me know if you need to take a break,” Namjoon says as he scoots closer in his chair to place the stencil on Jimin’s upper thigh. He observes the placement before giving Jungkook a questioning look, rather than giving the decision to Jimin. Once Kook confirms with an approving nod, Joon gets to work, whirring the machine as he draws the first line. Both men glance at Jimin between strokes, attentive to see his reaction.

The stinging sensation of pulsing needles on Jimin’s soft flesh is not foreign, yet they feel sharper this time around. Deeper. Joon does not have a light-handed approach, likely as a stylistic choice for bold line work, but it makes the fine hairs at the back of Jimin’s neck stand on end. The artist’s attention to detail reminds him of the perfectionist in himself. He acted similarly when he sketched his clothing designs for the BYL collection, so he respects the process. He grits his teeth and bares through the pain. He can feel Jungkook’s gaze land heavy on his thigh as the needles stitch into his skin and embed vibrant ink. The younger man’s investment in this spontaneous decision is enchanting. The design he chose is brilliant and thoughtful. Jimin wonders if he’s devoted this much of his undivided attention to anyone else besides himself. Surely a man of his prestige has better things to do than this with him .

Nonetheless, Jimin pushes his insecurity aside and places his hand on Jungkook’s thigh for assurance.

Jungkook observes every stroke of Namjoon’s wrist with deep focus to make sure there is not a single mistake done to Jimin’s precious skin. He’s more invested in this moment than he has been with anybody else. Luckily, he knows he can trust Namjoon to do a job that is nothing but absolutely perfect. Watching Jimin’s skin slowly gain lines and colors with a design he chose...it’s a feeling unmatched by any other. ... Well , possibly matched by the way Jimin is obviously struggling to keep a straight face. The light twitches in his plush lips are so endearing. Jungkook grabs Jimin’s small hand and gently strokes his knuckles with his thumb, holding it like that the entire time.

Then, after what feels like forever, the buzzing of the machine finally comes to an end. Namjoon places the needle gun back on the desk before cleaning Jimin’s thigh off, inching forward to inspect the finished result. “Alright, we’re all done. Take a look by the mirror over there if you want a proper view.” Joon directs his words towards Jimin, but his eyes flicker to Jungkook’s.

Standing on his feet is a raw task, but Jimin does it with a brave face, placing weight on the leg until it feels comfortable enough to walk on. The mirror doesn’t do the piece justice—up-close it is perfectly placed on his toned thigh and brilliantly shaded. He ghosts his fingers over the fresh ink, hovering just above, slightly bewildered that it’s a part of him forever.  He turns to Namjoon and nods his approval, then looks to Jungkook, trying to assess his reaction. From what he could tell, then man is just as pleased, maybe even more. It is his design concept, after all, and he should be proud. Jimin rests his hand at his side but can still feel Jungkook’s hand—thumb working in soothing circles. It makes him wonder if perhaps he’s relaxed enough to take the pain as well.

“While we’re here,” Jimin says confidently, feeling the dopamine pulse in his rosy numb flesh, “are you getting one too?”

“I am, actually.” Jungkook's small smirk tugs at his lips as he remains still, eyes still admiring the work on Jimin's thigh. Forever would he be marked with the piece that he had chosen. And now he’s about to get one of his own.  Kook guides Jimin to have the seat next to him as he gets himself ready, extending his arm to expose the ink-free piece of his skin on his lower arm. Meanwhile, Joon prepared another set of needles. He rolls up to the youngest to place his stencil, raising his eyebrows in a silent question of 'Good?'   With an approving nod from Jungkook, the familiar buzzing sound of the machine echoes once more. Joon marks Jungkook with a similar design as the one on Jimin's thigh; however, slightly different. While Jimin's is a work of red petals, Jungkook's is the flower itself, with petals falling off of it. As with every other piece Namjoon had done on the photographer in the past, he marks Jungkook's flower tattoo with a barely visible number. It’s a sly way of tracking each time the man has brought someone in to tattoo themselves for him. Why? Who knows. It is a mystery only known to the man himself.

Jimin notes the small number as Namjoon etches it onto Jungkook, not even sure if it is a number he’s seeing or just another part of the blooming bud. The photographer’s silken skin beads with fresh droplets of blood, obstructing his view of the design. He doesn’t even wince when the hairpin needles pierce his skin over and over, like he’s done it so many times it’s as casual as a monthly haircut.  Jungkook is a seasoned professional in Jimin’s eyes. He admires the painless way he endures Namjoon’s heavy-handed pricking in what he assumes to be a sensitive part of the body to mark. He can’t pretend he isn’t shocked the photographer had the foresight to plan matching tattoos, and was too bold to assume Jimin would want it. But Jeon Jungkook's bold decisions are what attracted Jimin to him in the first place.

“You’re doing well,” Jimin assures, soothing his hand over the wide expanse of Jungkook’s back. “You’re doing really well...”

Just as the tattoo begins to form into a coherent piece of art, Jimin’s pocket vibrates. He pulls his phone free and stares down at the notifications, quickly hiding it at his side once he realizes who messaged him.

Jungkook smiles at the sweet words coming from the elder, but it fades just as quickly when he notices the slight tilt of Jimin's phone screen to keep it just out of his vision. Kook can't help the curiosity that gradually morphs to swirling annoyance in his gut. He just can't help it—he hates secrets when they’re kept from him. Could it be the same person Jimin was on the phone with earlier? The younger isn't oblivious, and he really wishes this wouldn't cause any trouble. But before he can comment on the split second, the phone is shoved back into Jimin's pocket, and Namjoon chimes that he's finished.

“Alright, we're done here,” Namjoon clicks his tongue and wipes Jungkook's arm clean, observing the masterpiece with his squinted eyes. He rolls his chair out and stretches his back until his spine pops. “Good, Jungkookie?”

“Perfect.” Jungkook approves as he gets up off his chair, looking down at the new piece of art on his skin. A mark just for Jimin. He displays it for the blonde, a crooked eyebrow following with his toothy grin, “Now we match.”

Jimin tries to muffle the sound of incoming text messages as they continue to vibrate in his pocket. If it isn’t Seung-Ho, it’s surely his manager on behalf of Seung-Ho. The man is persistent when he wants Jimin’s attention—but why does it have to be now? Jimin doesn’t have the nerve to check his phone, especially not when Jungkook proudly displays his fresh ink.

“It’s—” Jimin leans closer, grasping the man’s bicep to steady his body. He squints to take in every little detail, down to the faint number etched at the center of the design—but is it a number? It very well could be, but what does it mean? Jungkook doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest, so Jimin pushes his curiosity aside and examines the rest of the tattoo. “Not to be biased, but I think It’s the most beautiful flower.” The delicate way the red petals seem to fall down from Jungkook’s arm and onto Jimin’s thigh is wholly picturesque. Jimin would be lying if he said it didn’t excite him, knowing the two of them will share this for the rest of their lives. If anything, let it serve as a reminder of their working partnership and the bond they shared shooting Jimin’s first solo collection. Give it time and perhaps the tattoos will increase in value. It’s not even a day old and it’s already Jimin’s new favorite piece of art. He lightly taps his tender thigh and savors the sting, flicking his eyes between both tattoos until they are melded in his mind as one. “It’s been a long day, Jeon,” he winces, tapping his tender flesh a little too roughly. “Ready to head out?”

Jungkook shakes his head with a mischievous, toothy grin growing on his face. “Not yet, I have one more thing.” He speaks as he stares at Namjoon, who suddenly seems to shrink where he stands despite being the tallest of them all.

“Are you sure? It'll hurt.” Joon asked with his eyebrows raised high, feeling the itch in his fingers. He really wants to do it, but he also wants to make sure this was truly what the younger desires. He does hope for a ‘yes’ though. There is nothing else he wants right now than to feel and see Jungkook, even if it's in a professional setting.

“Yes, I've planned this for a while now.” Jungkook's hands travel to the hem of his pants, tugging at the waistline as his grin grows wolfish, “And I want it right now.”

“O-okay...” Namjoon's voice strains, his heart practically bursting within his rib cage with excitement. He loves tattooing, but if there is anything he loves more, it’s body piercing. There is just something about the adrenaline he feels rushing down his spine when he feels the needles easily penetrate through flesh, to be adorned by a piece of jewelry. Joon would be lying if he said it didn't make his face heat up a bit.

“Alright, take a seat,” Namjoon clears his throat, sitting back down on his rolling chair and patting the client seat.

Jungkook doesn't hesitate to pull his pants down along with his underwear, shameless and confident in his body as he sits down, half laying in the seat, eyes fixed on Jimin's. He notes how the blonde's eyes immediately find exactly what Kook expects.

“Don't stare so intensely, I'll get excited,” Kook teases Jimin, then flickers his gaze down to meet Namjoon's, who is also seemingly swallowing tightly to keep his professional mask on.

This is too much fun.

“A-are you—” Jimin’s voice weakens as Namjoon grasps Jungkook’s flaccid length and lines up a small barbell at the tip, measuring for size. He very clearly is, no doubt about it. If he was confident going into the tattoo, Jungkook is beyond confident going into this. Jimin wants to ask permission to watch, but can tell right away that it’s Jungkook’s full intention that he do so. He really does like to put on a good show, and, well, Jimin is captivated.

Namjoon finds the perfect piece of jewellery and sets it aside to ready the needle. It’s much larger than Jimin would have imagined—it looks hallowed throughout and incredibly sharp. It’s difficult to understand why in this moment, but Jimin feels his skin heat with arousal at the mere thought of seeing Jungkook’s tip gleam with a pretty stud through it. He takes a seat beside him, aching to be as close as possible. He crosses his legs, already feeling his cock stiffen at the sight. Jungkook seems to be affected as well, gradually growing thicker, unabashedly, right in front of his audience of two.

Jimin nips his plushy bottom lip and focuses his curious eyes on Namjoon’s hand as he grasps the hardening cock, ready to pierce. “Be still,” Jimin warns, nearly salivating at the sight. “I want it to be perfect.”

“Namjoon knows what he's doing, it'll be nothing but perfect,” Jungkook sighs out his words when Joon's warm fingers wrap around his length, already half hard from having two sets of eyes immersed in him, and him only. “Right, Joonie?”

“Right…”' Namjoon whispers through his teeth, his eyebrows tightly knit together in focus. It’s not easy to keep himself collected when Jungkook's cock is literally within his grasp. It’s heavy, and the all too familiar feeling of it makes his gut stir. “Just take a deep breath and don't move,” he warns as he brings the needle closer. His other hand keeps a firm grip around Kook's length, twitching once Joon's fingers tighten around it.

“Just do it before I get too hard…” Jungkook groans quietly. In all honesty, the photographer doesn’t care if he’s rock solid while getting pierced, he’s too much of a glutton for pain to mind it. Maybe he'd even prefer it that way. To say this is arousing would be an understatement.

Namjoon doesn't need to say anything else, and finally presses the needle through the flesh. For other professionals, this might've been too slow, but for the two of them, this was just the perfect torture. The needle is so sharp it practically melts through Jungkook's cock, and it has Namjoon foaming at the mouth when he hears Jungkook's audible moan echo in the studio.

“Fuck, hyung!” Jungkook curses through gritted teeth. His hand instinctively reaches out to grab Namjoon by his hair, tugging harshly. “All the way through, keep going.”

Namjoon's lower lip is tightly clamped between his teeth as he holds back the vibrating groan in his chest, finishing what he started as he finally pushes the needle through entirely; the bloody sharp tip of the needle sticking out on the other side. It’s gorgeous.

Jimin’s body feels hot and electric as the pain of his tattoo dissipates and is replaced with pure exhilaration. He watches every movement with wide blown-out pupils. His mouth is impossibly parched, he can’t will himself to swallow out of fear he might blink and miss a millisecond.

Namjoon loops the barbell through the hallowed tip of the needle and threads it through as the needle glides free of Jungkook’s stiffening length. It’s set aside, freeing a small bead of blood to trail down his shaft.

Jimin tears a fresh sheet of paper towel from a neighboring roll and dabs the wound gently. The younger man’s reddened tip swells under his touch and only spurs Jimin on to dab with excess—more than what’s needed, but selfish and satisfying for his own pleasure. He nips his bottom lip roughly until he’s sure he might draw blood of his own, then looks up at Jungkook with nothing but urgent need, silently begging to leave straight away. Jimins needy look doesn't go unnoticed by the younger, giving the blonde a reassuring wink.

“You did well hyung.” Jungkook leans in to press a light kiss on Namjoons forehead before he stands up, observing the little addition on his length. The pain is delicious, stinging and amplifying the throbbing pulse rushing from his heart to his cock.

Yeah, he needs to put it to use...there was no way around it.

Jungkook pulls his underwear and pants on, nonchalantly clasping the button on his jeans before he beckons Jimin to follow him like a puppy. “We will be back when I want some additions to my butterfly.” Jungkook grins at Joon, knowing the man knows exactly what he means, and that he'd have to be prepared. Soon.

The bell chimes loudly as Jungkook holds the door open for Jimin, giving Namjoon one last silent look before he walks out.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[shnuggletea]

Alright Lovelies, here's something a little dark and spooky for your Halloween cravings! As part of the Darker Oneshots: Halloween Challenge 2020 (hosted by Seiay's Kiss and NekoPantera!), I wrote this fic! Inspired by the 3 am Game: 11 Miles, I took my rules from 6 Paranormal Games That Could Ruin Your Entire Life If You Dare To Play by Jessica Calder. 

Click here for the playlist!!!!

This is the fic I accidentally wrote in first (when the rules said no first person) so I have two fics. They're the same in content, just different POVs! So, you get to choose! This one is for the event! The other is for my personal enjoyment lol. You can find the first person through my Tumblr page!

This fic was lovingly and painstakingly BOOTAED (get it?) by the fabulous @fawneyedgirl, @lavendertwilight89, @eringobroke, and @egosolivagant! And the cover art by the super talented @sapphirestarxx!

This is a long one (that’s what she said) guys so you probably wanna head over to one of the sites below. The full fic is on this post but... it’s a lot! And I can’t promise I caught all the formatting Tumblr lost when I pasted it here. You have been warned!!!

For the Third Person version!

AO3

Fanfiction

For the First person!

AO3

Fanfiction

Patreon

Tag Wall!!

@underwater0phelia@lavendertwilight89 @mamabearcat @nartista @nopenname22 @echobows@superpixie42 @smmahamazing @redflamesofpassion @jme-chan@cstorm86 @cicleydark-light @ruddcatha @lavaffair @kirrtash @sistasecbhere@inusgirl @obsessandfangirl @britonell @lordofthechips @mcornilliac@faolenwolf @classyhumanathletepalace @keichanz @phoenix-before-the-flame @artisticloveexpressitsall @lamuertadehambre @noyourenotreal @mitty-san @thenoammonster @little-deeluna @royaltrashpanda @sailorbabydoll92@storyweaver2017 @malditamigs @adorabubblesblog @lilms-obsessed@petri808 @anniehcresta @fan-dumpp @itzatakahashi @utakuprincess@theschultinator @all-too-ale @little-inukag-obsessed @theseagullqueen@queenofthesquirps @inusgirl @jolinaaa00 @knowall7k @neutronstarchild@fawn-eyed-girl @eringobroke @sapphirestarxx @clearwillow @dangerouspompadour @anxietyaardvark @bluejay785 @arcprz @whoisresponsible @zelink-inukag @lady-dark-69 @littlestuffstohide @liz8080 @master-ray5 @sailorsilverladybug @egosolivagant @fandomartlover @sailorlolo @knowall7k @astraearose93

Eleven Miles (First Person)

Is there something you desire more than anything else in the world? To obtain it, you don’t have to travel across the globe but you will have to go farther than you may be prepared. Although the distance might not be great, it is a place not all can venture, as not all can meet the requirements. If your desire is great enough, perhaps you will succeed… if you dare.

At the moment, I was calm and quiet. Even with the girl in my arms that was shaking harder than a leaf in a storm. The others in the car couldn’t smell it; I was the only demon if just half. But I was sure: the air was thick with it. 

And you never forget the smell of death once you’ve experienced it. 

“Alright, someone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on??!!”

Six hours earlier

Walking into the tea shop, I quickly caught sight of Miroku’s black locks even amongst the many others. He stood out in his own way, ratty ponytail down the back of his finely pressed school blazer. It matched mine, save for the pressed part but I didn’t have any fucking butlers to do my laundry. 

Miroku held up a hand to wave me down as if I didn’t see him. My ears pressed down to my skull on instinct, the loud and crowded store quickly pushing me to my ‘friendly’ limit. Sango sat right next to Miroku, trying and failing to keep his hand off her thigh. I wasn’t sure what the big deal was; everyone knew the two were fucking. 

I liked Sango. She was one of the few in the school who didn’t act like they shit rainbows cause their daddy had money. Miroku was another tolerable person there which was why we were friends. My ‘Daddy’ had money and was why I was in the stupid, preppy, bullshit school. As much as I hated it, I had to be thankful. Otherwise, I never would have met the people in my life I considered dear. 

Plopping to my seat to show annoyance, I wondered if any of them bought it? Sure, the place was loud and crowded but I wanted to be here. Needed to be. And my reason would be showing up any moment now…

“Hello, all.” She fell gracefully to the seat across from mine and let her eyes wander. I watched her, waiting for more as there always was. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

We all groaned, me the loudest, which got her attention. “What the fuck are you gonna force us into this time, Kikyo?”

She pursed her pouty red lips at me and my eyes lingered a little longer than I liked. “I never forced you to do anything, Inuyasha.”

Flicking black locks over her shoulder sent a small, but powerful, wave of perfume in my direction. I nearly gagged on it and she caught on, smirking. She couldn’t wear that shit when we dated for this reason alone so now that we were broken up, she was flaunting. 

Springing to her feet, I held my breath. 

“Going to the loo.” Kikyo ‘shared’ and I released my breath in a groan once she was out of earshot. 

“Hey, you dated her.” Sango quibbled. 

“Yeah, and it’s been almost a fucking year since she dumped me. So why the hell is she still hangin’ out with us?”

Another body fell to a seat, setting down a tray of drinks before us. “Okay, I got thirty minutes.”

Opening her mouth, Sango held up a sandwich that I had no clue where it came from. But Kagome took a huge bite and moaned, making me laugh. Taking the rest of her dinner from her friend, Kagome sat back and continued to pig out. Not that we blamed her, she had very little time to spare. Ever. 

The rest of us grabbed the free drinks she had brought us, one of the few benefits afforded her working here, while Sango narrowed her eyes at the overworked tea girl. “Your cousin will be back any second now.”

Kagome just nodded, her mouth still too full to speak. 

“She wants us to do something with her tonight,” Miroku added, his tone clear; he didn’t want to go. 

Kagome swallowed and I swear I hadn’t taken my eyes off her since she sat down. “She won’t invite me so I have no worries!”

God, I was jealous. The way Kagome could just turn anything into a positive? Although, not being invited to one of Kikyo’s ‘outings’ could definitely be seen as a good thing in my book. 

Leaning on my elbows, I moved a little closer to Kagome. Careful not to be too obvious, I breathed in her scent. She always smelled like tea leaves. The light kind like white tea and peaches. I found it intoxicating, even now, after years of knowing her. 

She looked over at me and just when I thought I’d been caught, she smiled so brightly I needed sunglasses. “I’m sure it’ll be a good time though, right?”

Optimistic as always, it irked me, but only because Kagome didn’t deserve any of the shit she went through. 

“That’s my seat.”

I glanced, Kikyo returned and looming over Kagome. She only had a quarter left of her sandwich, which she shoved into her mouth whole and stood. Without a word, mostly due to her full mouth, Kagome gave us a quick wave and disappeared. But she didn’t go far, getting behind the register just in my sight. 

“If you want free drinks, then you can just ask me.”

At some point, Kikyo had sat down in Kagome’s seat. I had been staring, watching the practiced ease Kagome had making tea. It was fascinating, the gentle way she held the glass and strained the tea leaves? Flicking her wrist to get the last of the floating herbs and sometimes adding in chilled milk. I liked watching her make milk teas the most. 

But now I had steely gray eyes glaring at me. “I ain’t here for the free tea.”

A leg over her knee, Kikyo stared at her nails instead. “So tonight? You guys coming?”

“You haven’t even told us what we are coming to?” 

Miroku didn’t hide his annoyance, another thing I liked about the guy. Most were scared to death of Kikyo and her prowess within the school. Maybe that was why she hung around us so much? Either she liked that we didn’t shine her ass or she wanted us to start? 

“Onigumo is taking us for a ride.”

I huffed, “why the fuck would we want to go ride around with you and your boy toy?”

Her lips slid to the side and I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth next. “Because he just got a brand new Escalade.”

Kikyo didn’t know a damn thing about cars and I didn’t give a shit about them. It was about status and (a big expensive car like the one her new boyfriend had) spoke volumes. Like I needed another hint, she dumped me for someone richer. She didn’t care who, and Onigumo was right there with his big wallet in his pants. Cause no way in hell was that supposed to be his dick bulging in the front of his jeans. 

“I couldn’t care less,” Sango said with a sigh. 

Kikyo was losing us fast and for once, she looked nervous about it. “There’ll be booze?” Miroku and Sango hesitated. “And we’re going to play Eleven Miles.”

“What the hell is that?”

Kikyo rolled her eyes at me, “look it up?!”

She knew I wouldn’t. Instead, I glanced back at the register for Kagome. Who was wiping down the counter with no one in line waiting. “We’ll go… if your cousin comes too.”

Her mouth dropped but she quickly picked it back up. “She’s working tonight…”

“And with one call, you can fix that.”

Sango and Miroku both smirked, knowing I had won. Because either Kikyo failed and we got out of what sounded like the worst night of my life, or she came through and at least I’d have a good time with Kagome there. 

Rolling her eyes, she pulled out her phone and I got to my feet, shuffling up to the counter. Pretty brown eyes landed on me and she smiled brightly yet again. “Can I get you something, Inuyasha?”

Smirking, I didn’t take the bait. It would be too easy to tell her ‘yeah, give me you’. Watching her blush would have been fun but I had a purpose. I pushed my palms into the counter before me and leaned into my shoulders while she watched me intently. “You’re coming out with us tonight.”

Her smile faded a little into a sad one. “I can’t, I’m working…”

“No, you’re not. I got mom to let you off.” 

Kikyo appeared behind me, talking way too loud at the girl before me. With as much sass as humanly possible, Kikyo turned on her heel and swayed so her pleated uniform skirt swished with her hips. That used to drive me wild; now it just gave me a headache. 

I was brought back to the present when a gentle hand landed and squeezed my clawed one. Whipping my head back, Kagome had her sweet smile on. The one that made my palms sweat. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Get me invited. I don’t like going out with Kikyo at all.”

“Neither do I.”

She squeezed my hand again before pulling away. I liked that. How she would touch me without fear or hesitation. Even with my claws accidentally cutting a few times in the past. Kagome mostly, since she touched me the most. Yet she still held my hand when I needed it or she did because she was a good friend and person. A god damn angel surrounded by demons. 

“You could always say ‘no’ to her. It wouldn’t kill you?”

Her back to me, I listened to her heart and breathing to figure out her real meaning. Not that it was hard, given what I knew about her and her family already. “I could. But I didn’t. Not this time.” When she still didn’t look at me, I sighed loudly to get her attention. “You’re not going out with her, you’re going out with me, alright? You never get a night off and this was my in so I took it and I regret nothing.”

When I looked back up, staring at the different bags of kettle popped popcorn instead of her while I ranted, she had a caramel color to her eyes as she grinned. “Okay. I guess I don’t regret it either then.”

A few hours later

Miroku was grinning while we waited, standing off to the side of my building to lean on the half wall around the playground behind us. With my hands shoved in my pockets, I kept myself from punching him in the face but when he started to chuckle, I couldn’t stop myself from shoving him hard with my shoulder. It didn’t stop him from laughing and it didn’t make me feel any better, stuck waiting for my ex to show up with her new bf in a monster truck to take us all out to drink. 

But I told Kagome I didn’t regret it and I didn’t want to lie to her. 

The large monstrosity pulled up, rumbling as the driver revved the engine while leaving the doors locked. Gaining as much attention as possible and rubbing it in my face. It was a good thing I didn’t give a shit; otherwise, it might have worked and pissed me off. As it were, it just annoyed. 

The tinted windows hid the inside but I knew what I’d find when the door finally opened. This was why I wasn’t shocked nor did I hesitate, heading straight for the tiny back seat Kagome was undoubtedly shoved into by her cousin. With Kikyo in the front seat, this was where I wanted to be regardless, as far back as I could get.

Miroku took the middle seats. He and Sango would occupy them once we picked her up. It’s not like I was gonna share the fucking middle with those two anyway. I’d probably get a high heel in my face while they made out viciously. A few drinks and it was inevitable with those two. 

So why Kikyo was giving me the stink eye in her little mirror, I didn’t pretend to know or care. I had invited Kagome in the first place; of course, I would spend time with her. 

Taking my attention off others, I gave all of it to Kagome, who smiled softly to me in the dark back seat. She rocked a long sweater with tights and a pair of small sneakers. Another thing I liked about Kagome, she never tried hard but still managed to look adorable every time. Even in her uniform that was a hand-me-down and a size too small. A long braid over and down her shoulder and she was easy on the heart and eyes. 

“You made it.”

I grinned wide. “So did you.”

“Auntie about had a heart attack, Kikyo vouching for me and tugging me out the door with her.” 

She giggled and my heart thumped hard, happily. It felt fucking amazing making Kagome happy. “That made it worth it, didn’t it?”

Kagome shrugged and blushed heavily, making me wish I could read minds. 

“Kagome is going to be the DD if we get too wasted,” Kikyo called loud and clear from her throne. 

Glaring back at her, Kikyo smirked before slowly turning back to her boyfriend. The heavy linebacker and team captain of the football team didn’t intimidate me in the least. But Kikyo wanted me to be and I was sure I would never understand why. 

Kagome was staring, silently, out the window when I returned to ‘us’. No matter how many times I saw it, it still made my blood boil. And everyone knew about it; Kikyo had no shame in showing her disdain for her own blood. 

At first, it was all smiles and words under the breath. The girl with no family and no money showing up at our school? Kagome was the talk of the ‘first years’. And Kikyo enjoyed it until it got out they were related. That was when the cruelty started. Or, at least, the public cruelty. 

Sango never let Kagome’s background bother her, befriending her quickly just as she had me, another weirdo. At least I had my rich daddy to fall back on as well as a strong last name everyone knew. 

Kagome had nothing. 

I don’t think I’ll ever get over the guilt of shunning Kagome because her cousin told me to and I was a fucking lap puppy for Kikyo. The guilt or embarrassment. And it was all too easy for Kagome to forgive and forget, never letting anything get her down. Or stop her from caring about a person. I didn’t deserve her friendship but I still took it greedily. 

“I never got to tell you…” my attention was already on her and my ears perked up, finding her eyes in the reflection of the window, “I’m sorry.”

Confused, I shook my head a little to clear it. “What are you sorry for?”

Now she faced me but had her eyes on her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for… showing up? That day, you were supposed to meet with Kikyo…”

I laughed and it caused her to jump up and look at me. “You mean the day she dumped me?” Kagome nodded slowly as if scared. “The day she dumped me and stood me up? When you came so I wasn’t alone? Are fucking shitting me? Why are you apologizing?!”

“I think…” her eyes flicked to the front but I didn’t dare take my eyes off of her, “I think she might have… gotten back with you if I hadn’t gone… but I didn’t want you to be alone, I didn’t… it wasn’t fair to you how she treated you and you deserve better…”

My hand on hers in her lap got her to stop. “You’re right, I do deserve better. And if she had offered to take me back, I might have been stupid enough to accept. So I’m glad you came.”

The softness of her face and eyes, it was palpable. “You’re sure?”

Oh god, was I. Kikyo dumping me was the best thing that ever happened to me. It woke me up, taking a long-ass nap in bitch land. I think it was sex. She was my first and I’ll never forget that. But it had me clinging to her because of some kind of made up attachment. 

Kikyo felt nothing for me. 

It was my last name that had attracted her. And I was attracted to her for her looks. The prettiest girl in school. Until freshman year started that is. 

But none of that mattered anymore; Kagome relaxing and giggling happily. My palms were sweating again at the sound. Add in the twinkle in her eyes and my heart was fucking doing laps. Maybe sitting in the back with her bitch of a cousin at the front was a bad idea?

We came to a stop and Sango bounced in. “The party’s here!”

“Where’s the booze you promised?” Miroku asked. 

Onigumo glanced at us in his rearview. “We have it all set up a few miles out of town.”

Miles outside of town? Where the fuck were we going tonight?

“Did Kikyo tell you? She says we’re playing something called Eleven Miles. Know what it is?”

I forgot about that and Kagome was already looking nervous. “No clue but I’m sure it’s fucking stupid.”

Kagome didn’t have a smartphone, so to reassure her, I got mine out and started searching. But then decided not to say anything after I got a look at what Kikyo had planned. 

“Yeah. It’s stupid.”

Kagome had short nerves. Something we all learned during the senior prank last year. They thought it would be funny to turn the school into a haunted house. I thought Kagome was going to pass out. Sango got her out of there unscathed but I was close to killing Hojo with his ghost costume, chasing Kagome around for a thrill. 

So no way in hell I was telling her what Eleven Miles was. Nothing was going to happen anyway; it would only freak her out to know. I still shot a glare Kikyo’s way. And she felt it, finding it and looking surprised. 

Instead, I scooted a little closer to Kagome and she passed me a smile before returning to watch the world outside her window. Miroku was already squeezing Sango tight to him but he spared a moment to look back and then throw me a wink. I spared a moment to punch the shit out of his shoulder. Little brat wined all the way to the ‘set up’. 

It was dark; the late fall sun setting an hour before we arrived. There was a table with drinks and a few lanterns burning. It looked like a cult ritual waiting to happen. We piled out of the car, I let Kagome go first for… my reasons and stood around awkwardly. All of this felt like it was a setup. Like there was more to this night than our ‘hosts’ were telling us. 

Sango looked about as at ease as me so she didn’t shy away from the booze. Miroku either. Kagome and I hung back; neither of us were ever drinkers. The few times I did, it was by force thanks to Kikyo. Kagome never got to go out so I assumed she would drink if given the chance. This wasn’t it though, Kikyo watching her cousin like a hawk, daring her to try for a drink. 

Kikyo and her boyfriend drank heavily and showed their bodies ’ resistance. Anyone else that drank as much as they did, in the short period we all stood there, would have at least struggled to walk. Kikyo had a small slur to her words but was otherwise fine. Onigumo acted like it was water.

Sneaking glances at Kagome beside me, I only gave a portion of my attention to the shit show before us. Sango started to get sloppy and Miroku got even more handsy. “You gonna drink?”

Wide and confused, Kagome’s beautiful browns crashed to me quickly. Then a flush spread on her cheeks as they wandered over my face. “I don’t think so. You?”

I had been slowly inching closer so now, taking my last inch, my shoulder touched hers. “Nah. So you’re safe if you want to.”

“Safe?”

Shrugging rubbed our shoulders together. I liked it cause she didn’t pull away. “Yeah, I’ll keep watch, keep you safe from… others.”

“And who will keep you safe?”

Her eyes were full of honesty, genuinely worried. But her pink lips twisted to the side as if implying something. This time, I took the bait. “You gonna jump me, Kagome? Cause I think I’d like that.”

Watching the blood spread across her face? Priceless. There was something truly beautiful about it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I loved it. Even if it caused her to point her face towards her shoes. 

A red cup, almost matching the color of Kagome’s cheeks, appeared before our faces. Kikyo had a wry look on her face. It was the one she made when she was faking a smile. “Drink up. Both of you.”

“I thought you said…”

Kikyo cut Kagome off by shoving the drink into her hand. “Oni would never let you drive his car, get your head out of your ass, Kagome.”

“Hey!” I shouted before I could think, but I would have said it anyway. “Kagome is my date so cut the shit!”

The corners of Kikyo’s mouth went down while Kagome’s went up. They were both fighting it but were failing. “I just gave her a drink, asshole…”

Gently taking Kagome’s arm, I led us away from the bitch and closer to Sango. Miroku was hanging on her so they were a packaged deal. The glare Sango was shooting Kikyo told me she heard what was said and was ready to pounce. “What is all this anyway? Why are we in the middle of nowhere drinking in the dark?!”

“We thought it would set the mood.” Onigumo sneered. 

“For what?” 

I caught the rolling Kikyo’s eyes did as she looked Miroku’s way. Damn bitch. “For the game.”

“About that, I don’t want any part of some stupid witch-hunting game,” Sango warned. 

“It’s not a witch hunt! It’s just a drive…”

“And you get your wish granted at the end.”

Onigumo and Kikyo looked like a couple of twelve-year-old boys getting promised to see tits for the first time. They weren’t seriously dumb enough to think this shit was real, did they? 

I groaned but said nothing more. If there was one thing I knew about Kikyo, it was that once her mind was set, there was no changing it. The worst part was that we were stuck in the middle of it, so to speak. It was getting harder and harder not to regret this. One glance at Kagome, a chill from her nerves going up her spine and making her dance for a second, and I was calming back down. 

Her fear was permeating the air and even though I was pissed she was dragged into this, by me and Kikyo, I was more worried about her losing it. 

The only good thing about it all was having an excuse for wrapping my arm around her. A hand on her hip and she was giving me a flushed and confused look. I squeezed her and chuckled at the little skip her heart did. This was far better than her fear and I felt no shame in doing it to her. 

“God. Can we just get this over with then? I’d rather be in bed than doing this stupid game.” Miroku bitched. 

I was inclined to agree. Except for the part where Sango was in bed with me as that was implied by Miroku’s hand on her ass as he pushed them back towards the car. I pulled Kagome as well, keeping an arm around her. Kikyo sneered at all of us as we passed. Why the hell did she want us around? She didn’t care what we wanted and didn’t seem to enjoy our company at all. 

None of this felt right but with us, already out in the middle of nowhere it was keep going… or a long walk home, even for a demon, in the dark. 

Mile One…

Don’t use a large car or an open one like a motorcycle. The cover of night is important, sticking out too much would be very bad….

Kagome was in the back with me again, watching out the window. I assumed it was her nerves. Either being so close to me or the weird-ass game we were about to play. Or possibly a combination of the two. I knew she was at least attracted to me but I wasn’t sure if she was into me as I was into her. My demon senses didn’t tell me the difference. I had always told myself I could work with attraction. But after months of flirting this was the first time we had gone on anything close to a date. How much of that was Kagome’s choice and how much of it was her Cousin and Aunt keeping her busy, I didn’t know. With her now close to me and still putting distance, it was hard to believe she felt anything more for me than friendly attraction. 

Turning my attention to the road before us, I caught Kikyo watching us. Her eyes flicked away as soon as I caught her, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Whatever thoughts I had on that were interrupted by Sango reaching across her seat and grabbing Kagome’s shoulder. 

“You alright?”

I didn’t hide my interest, watching as Kagome worked out her response. Her eyes darted between me and Sango but she offered a weak smile. “I’m a little freaked out but I’ll be alright.”

She wasn’t lying. Embarrassed but still telling the truth. And her eyes lingered on me longer and longer after her admission. The back and forth of Sango’s eyes were seen in my peripheral. Maybe she saw something? It would explain the grin that grew on her face but she did that every time Kagome and I had a moment that she was there to witness. 

“You don’t need to worry. Inuyasha will protect you.”

Sango winked at me before turning back to her seat with Miroku. I turned from the two of them when Miroku took Sango back greedily, whispering things I wished I didn’t hear. Thank you demon hearing for that one.

Kagome wasn’t returning to her window, smiling sweetly at me so my palms began to sweat. “Is that true, Inuyasha? Will you protect me?”

Jesus. When she said shit like that. I knew she was just kidding around but damn it was bad for my heart. “Feh. Of course. Not that there’s anything to protect you from.”

Her smile faded, looking back out the window and I thought I had lost her again until she started whispering. “There’s something not right about this road.”

“What do you mean?”

I leaned over, looking out with her. My eyes were far better than hers, what with her a pure human. As expected, she didn’t squirm or push me away. There was no discomfort. There was also nothing but trees outside as we sped down the street. Well, not sped, Onigumo had us at a solid thirty-five MPH for some ungodly reason. This night was already going to last long enough.

A hard shiver ran through Kagome and I didn’t kid myself that it was because of me. “Cold?” She nodded and I growled at the front seats. “Hey Onigumo, what kind of piece of shit car is this? You can’t even keep the back seats warm?!”

He caught my glare in his rearview and I caught his sneer just before he leaned over and turned up the heat. Kagome’s hand found mine and she was like ice. “Thank you, Yasha.”

Oh shit, I loved it when she called me that. “Anytime, Ka-go-me.”

She smirked and I hoped it was due to the reminder. The first time we met I consistently said her name wrong. In a brazen show, she told me, “It’s KAH-GO-MAY you asshat!” I couldn’t control my attachment to her after that, having absolutely no fear or revulsion of me in the slightest. Most people took whatever I gave them and were thankful I didn’t do worse. And that had nothing to do with me and my track record, they all assumed I would do more than name call because I was a half breed. 

“Alright everyone, this is it! This is the road!”

Sango shifted, sitting closer to Onigumo’s seat. “What do you mean this is the road? I thought we just drove for eleven miles or something?”

“It has to be a particular road and mileage,” Kikyo answered mockingly. 

Miroku huffed, “then how the hell do you know this is it?!”

“Just a… feeling.”

She answered softly but Kikyo’s eyes flicked back and not at me. I glanced at Kagome who was stiff and trembling slightly. I took my jacket off and wrapped it around her without hesitation. Kagome smiled but it wasn’t as strong as her usual one. Whatever was going on, it was affecting Kagome somehow. 

And Kikyo was exploiting whatever that was to the fullest. 

Mile Two

To find the road you need to go at night when it will be the least populated. And you must do this alone. It won’t be on the map. It must be surrounded by woods and if you look for it, it will appear, as there will be hints….

“Can’t we go any faster?!!”

Now that we were ‘on the road’ Onigumo has slowed to a crawl. We were going about twenty miles per hour now. Kagome had stopped shivering but refused to look out the window now. Her arms crossed over her chest, she stared at the seat in front of us while I rubbed her knee. The fact that she didn’t blush like crazy showed me that she was too upset or messed up to care. And I was taking advantage but I didn’t care either. 

“You should all be looking. That’s the point. If we don’t see anything then it didn’t work.” Onigumo yelled. 

“This is bullshit.” Miroku sighed. “Just go faster so we can be done with this.”

Mile Three

Don’t use your phone….

“Does anyone else have any service?” Sango suddenly asked. 

I pulled out my phone and had a few bars but not much. “Here.”

She took my phone without question but then didn’t make a call. I couldn’t tell what she was doing but she didn’t put it up to her ear or anything. “Ug, fucking data is being so god damn slow!!!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

I move to sit up and lean over but Kagome’s hand flew to mine.  Still on top of her knee, she squeezed it so hard, if I were human, it would have hurt. 

My mouth parted to speak but one look at her had me shutting my mouth tight. Her eyes were wide and still staring at the seat before us. And she was breathing hard, shuddering breaths that sounded painful, like her whole body was so tense it hurt to breathe. 

“Kagome? What’s wrong?”

She said nothing. She didn’t move. Kagome was thoroughly freaked out. 

Removing my hand from her clutch was no easy task. For a human, she was surprisingly strong when scared but I did it and her breathing only quickened until I wrapped an arm around her to pull her into me. Practically in my lap, I glared at the two asshats in the front seats. They were busy looking out the windows. Onigumo too and the car slowed even more from it. 

At the moment, I was calm and quiet. Even with the girl in my arms that was shaking harder than a leaf in a storm. The others in the car couldn’t smell it; I was the only demon if just half. But I was sure, the air was thick with it. 

And you never forget the smell of death once you’ve experienced it. 

There was movement outside. I don’t know how Kagome knew it because they were hard even for me to see. But she must have seen them or something and it was the cause of her petrified state.

And with the grins on Kikyo and Onigumo’s faces, glancing back at Kagome as some kind confirmation, I knew they were holding back on some important information. “Alright, someone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on??!!”

“SHHHHH!!” My glare went to Sango but then I saw the blood drain from her face. “Do you hear that?”

Everyone was silent. I flicked my ears around, trying to hear but I heard nothing. But Kagome. She began to claw at my shirt and dig into my arms. Now hiding, I covered her as much as possible with my arms and body. If hiding helped her then that’s what I would do. 

“Oh my god…”

I’d been focused on Kagome. Her heart at a dangerous speed. With Kikyo’s exclamation, all I wanted to do was throw my shoe at the back of her head. Because screaming out like that didn’t help at all. But pulling my focus caused me to notice what was around us. And what was around us, didn’t make sense. 

Because the woods were completely gone. 

Mile Five

Don’t turn open the windows or leave your car….

It was like we had missed the road and driven into the middle of a field, no trees around at all. Not even behind us. 

I was struggling to take a good look around while holding onto Kagome. She didn’t look; she was barely breathing. And then they stopped the goddamn car. 

“What the hell? Why are we stopping???!”

Onigumo already had his door open. “Gotta piss.”

The growl I released was ignored. But of course, Onigumo and Kikyo didn’t give a shit about how freaked Kagome was. Sango turned to help me with her while Miroku scooted to the door. “I gotta go too.”

Sango called after him but he ignored all her warnings. The call of nature was stronger than his fear. 

The three of us were quiet. So much, I forgot all about Kikyo until she spoke, remembering there were four in the car. “She’s just being overly dramatic as usual.”

The venom in Kikyo’s voice was more than enough to push me and Sango over the edge. And Sango beat me to a response. “The only one here that is overly anything is you, Kikyo, and you know it.”

It was so quiet, I could hear the roll of Kikyo’s eyes. Sango huffed but turned back to us, Kagome still in my hold. Her hot and slow breaths were fogging up my chest but I wasn’t bothered in the slightest. At least she was starting to calm, her heart at a much safer speed than before. 

Like a little bunny, Kagome slowly came out of hiding and stared out the window past Sango. “Kagome?”

The driver’s door opened and slammed shut, rocking the car. “Wooo it’s cold out there!”

At some point, Kikyo had turned on the radio, soft notes playing all around us. I wasn’t in the mood in the slightest. 

“Where’s Miroku?”

Sango turned and looked to Onigumo, who shrugged. “No clue. We didn’t cross streams!”

I looked out, searching. There were no trees. Not a fucking one. And the lake looked more like a mirror, reflecting the full moon and stars above. With plenty of light and nothing obscuring our sight, it should have been easy to spot anyone. Demon or not. 

But there was no one near or around the car at all.

I wasn’t paying attention to the radio but suddenly, it cut out and turned to static. Then increased in volume until deafening. The white noise was making my brain hurt, pressing my ears to my skull as hard as I could. When that didn’t work, I covered them, allowing myself to let go of Kagome to try and lessen the pain.

She held on tight to my shirt but didn’t seem to mind the overpowering sound. It had nothing to do with being a demon because everyone in the car was buckled over from the noise. But Kagome? She sat up straight and still… and listened.

“TURN IT OFF!!!”

I was too busy curling into a ball but Sango’s scream made it over the noise and Onigumo slapped his hand to the audio power button. The ringing in my ears was slow to diminish but once it did, I released my head and wrapped my arms around Kagome again. Her cheeks were red and chapped with tears and she was sobbing softly. It was hard to miss, the salt covering any other scent for me, even the smell of death that had yet to go away. 

Dragging her into me, I gave her a small shake to wake her out of the shocked mentality she was stuck in. “Kagome, what’s wrong?!”

A few pounding heartbeats and sobs later, her eyes finally met mine. I could see the fear within them, it was screaming back at me. “They took him…”

Sango was listening now, turning back to us again. “Who took who?!”

“They...they took Miroku.”

“Who the fuck is they?!” Sango screamed. She didn’t wait for an answer; her hand on the handle before I could clear my head of just what Kagome was saying. “Fuck this, I’m going to look for him.”

The sound of the locks clicking into place was deafening and we all looked to the front. Kikyo still had her hand on the control when she slowly turned to us. “No one is going anywhere. We need to finish this.”

“What? You want us to keep driving are you fucking mad??”

She turned her glare to me, looking at me like I was fucking stupid. “Miroku is fine. Once we finish, we’ll go back for him.”

It wasn’t up for debate as Onigumo began to pull away. Sango’s screams were ignored and with me in the back seat, there was little I could do as we got back up to speed. Other than keeping Kagome as close as possible to me. 

Her forehead touched my neck, skin on skin, and I would have been a fucking teenage virgin about it if she wasn’t ice cold. “Shit, Kagome, you’re freezing!!”

Wrapped up tight, my coat wasn’t doing a damn thing for her. My hot demon blood kept me toasty 24/7 but even pressed against my heat, she was still shivering. Sango leaned back over her seat to us, checking and feeling Kagome. It was a needed distraction; tears still rolling down her cheeks from losing Miroku. “This can’t be good for her. It’s the damn prank night all over again.”

“This is fucking worse than that!”

Sango looked over her shoulder to the front again. “We need to get Kagome to a hospital.”

“No, we need her to stay right here. She is our beacon.” Onigumo said in the creepiest voice I had ever heard come out of him.

“Your.. beacon? To what?”

Sango asked but none of us wanted the answer. We needed to know how deep this shit went but we didn’t want to know. Kikyo slapped Onigumo’s shoulder in reprimand but answered our question anyway. “Beacon to.. this! All of it! We would have had no clue what road to take if it wasn’t for her.”

“What the hell does that mean!!!” I growled. 

But then the light cut away casting us into complete darkness.

Mile Six

Don’t touch the radio….

The trees had returned but it took the moon and starlight with it. As soon as we entered it, I could feel it. My demon was draining away. 

We had entered a moonless night somehow and I was becoming human.  

Sango’s eyes were wide at the sight of it. I had told them all about my human nights but I had never told Kikyo or Onigumo. Kikyo’s gray eyes looked at me fiercely and a smile grew on her face, making my skin crawl. 

This night was darker than usual. No moon and no stars, it made it impossible to see around us with my weak human eyes. Onigumo had headlights but seeing past them was difficult at best. 

The goddamn radio turned back on and no one touched it this time. Kagome rocked against me until I rocked with her. With it at a lower level, I could focus on the sounds instead of the skull piercing noise.

“Give… sss…. tooo… her….” out of nowhere, the static cut out, and it was clear, “INUYASHA, GIVE HER TO US!!!!”

Kagome pushed against me hard, her palms against my ribs. If I hadn’t been holding her so tight, she might have actually gotten free. “What the fuck?!”

“This isn’t funny, guys. Cut it out!”

Onigumo and Kikyo ignored me and Sango, continuing slowly down the road. Kagome was still pushing against my hold but I refused to let her go. “Kagome stop, I’m not letting you go.”

“You need to stay away from me, Inuyasha.”

There was nothing but sadness in her tone and I really didn’t get it. She was sad and afraid; why would she want to push any friend away? Was it because I was a demon? Kagome had never said or done anything to make me think she felt that way, like so many others, did about me. 

Was it whatever was out there, messing with us? Did she think I had something to do with it? It was my name coming out of the radio, a trick that was easy to do with a Bluetooth connection and a recorder on your phone. I don’t know how they got the smell of death to fill the car but I guess they could have put a dead animal under the hood of the car. If Onigumo would allow it. With him flaunting his money all the time he probably just considered buying a new car after this trick. Especially if Kikyo talked him into all of this. 

And it wouldn’t be the first time she had talked me into something either, convincing me to be cruel to Kagome when we first met. 

I wasn’t sure I could blame her, thinking I was somehow involved. I did ask her here and Kikyo folded so easily. So I yanked her back the tiny distance she had gotten away from me while I considered her wishes. Her eyes went wide, a little bit of green in her honey irises that made my heart skip a beat. “Shut the fuck up. I’m exactly where I want to be. Where I need to be.”

Some of her color came back to her face for a moment, a few errant tears sliding slowly down her cheeks. “Yasha…. it’s… it’s not what you think. It’s not safe…”

I couldn’t stand it; she was terrified and yet speaking about my safety? Kissing the tip of her nose got her to shut up and a warm fever to take over my skin from it. 

Damn weak human emotions. 

This was all some stupid prank anyway and I was going to beat the shit out of those responsible once we got the hell out of this car. 

We were still rolling on, surrounded by black woods. I couldn’t explain the lack of moon and stars. That was the only thing I couldn’t understand, how the hell they pulled it off?! How the hell did they make me human??

I was still trying to look out and see something in the darkness and felt a small tugging on my hair. Searching out the source, I found Kagome, playing with a few of my black strands. She had never seen me like this. No one had. Then she pushed back my hair until she found my ear, now on the side of my head and human. Gripping it, she checked to see if it was real I guess, before looking up at me with a small smile. 

“I’m sorry, Yasha. I know you hate being like this.”

Like it was her fault? I pulled her into my side, wrapping an arm around her tight and turning us so we looked ahead. Because if she kept looking at me and speaking to me like that, I was liable to take advantage. Something told me, she wouldn’t push me away if I offered her comfort in the form of my tongue in her mouth. Even if she wasn’t that into me. 

Mile Seven

Ignore the figures you see outside your car….

It hadn’t been long, Kagome and I calm in the backseat together when it all went to hell. 

First, Kagome stiffened in my hold, her shoulders becoming ridged. I took my attention away from the road for a moment to calm her down and Sango screamed. Making us both jump. 

“Stop! Stop the car!!”

I didn’t let go of Kagome in the slightest but I still sat up and tried to pull Sango back down to her seat. “Are you crazy?! We need to get this over with!!”

“I saw him!” She cried. “I saw Miroku; stop the car!!”

Turning, I looked behind us, keeping my arm around Kagome so I was turned into her. No longer a demon, I couldn’t hear her heart. But with my face inches from hers, I could easily feel the shallow breaths she was taking. “Kagome?”

She shook her whole body but mostly her head, at me. “That’s not Miroku.” She whispered. 

A glance and I couldn’t see anything anyway. Cupping her cheek, I gently pulled Kagome’s face towards mine. “Who is it, Kagome?”

Her eyes danced around my face. The breaths that puffed across my cheeks were cold; it made my fear spike for the girl in my arms. “I don’t know. But it’s not Miroku.”

Something crawled up my back to my neck and whispered. “Let go…”

My neck popped I turned so hard and fast. But there was nothing. Kagome’s hand grabbed mine on her face and I turned back to her, already feeling her tears on my fingers. She said nothing though, silently crying. 

Sango was still fighting with Onigumo, trying to get him to stop. At least he wasn’t a complete idiot. Or so I thought, feeling the car being to slow. 

“What are you doing?! Don’t stop the car you fuckers!!”

Sango whipped around to glare at me and only softened a little at the sight of Kagome so broken. “We need to get Miroku…”

“That ain’t Miroku!!!!”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re stopping, like it or not.” Kikyo declared. 

I was ready to wail in both of them but Onigumo turned off the car. “It’s dead. The car is dead; we have no choice but to stop.”

Mile Eight

If the car stalls, just be patient and try again in a few minutes. Don’t leave the car and whatever you do, don’t listen to the voices you hear….

“This is bullshit. Start the damn car you assholes!”

Onigumo passed me a look, then showed me his hand as he tried to crank the car. It didn’t even turn over; not making a single sound as he twisted the key in the ignition. 

Sango went for her door again but Onigumo still had it locked. “Let me out; I’m going back for Miroku.”

I was shaking my head at her but soon heard the click of the locks. Kagome got up too, as soon as Sango opened her door. “We should go with her.”

My breath was caught somewhere between my chest and my throat. Kagome was a ball of anxiety but still wanted to face it all for the sake of her friends. I wanted to go look for Miroku too. And get out of this car as it slowly made its way to hell. 

Taking her hand firmly in mine, we crawled over the seat and out the door. I spared Kikyo a glance. Her lips set in a hard line, she was stoic and I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing considering. 

Sango had a head start on us and we had lost her to the darkness. Kagome’s hand was in the death grip of mine and that brought me some comfort. While my palm was sweating, hers was ice cold. Made worse by the strange fridge temperature outside the damn car. It was late, checking my watch to see we were in the early hours of the morning now. That wasn’t the cause of the lack of stars or moon; sunrise was still hours away. 

The white puffs of hot air as they expelled from our mouths nearly glowed even without light reflecting on it. It made me wonder if the moon and stars were still there but, for some reason, we couldn’t see them? 

Kagome shook so hard, my arm was going numb from her shiver crawling up my shoulder. She still stepped up beside me and called out as if not terrified and freezing. “Miroku!!”

“We’re gonna have to walk a ways back for him to be in earshot, I think.”

I knew we had traveled a distance down the road but I had no clue just how far we had left Miroku behind. It was at least a mile. 

“Miroku!!!” Kagome still yelled.

Sango was probably doing the same thing. Wait…. “Where’s Sango?” 

Sure it was dark but she would be screaming her lungs off, looking for Miroku right now. No way in hell we wouldn’t hear her; the forest was dark and silent like a grave. 

Just as I pulled Kagome into my side, a loud pop came from behind. I spun us both, putting Kagome behind me simultaneously in a manner I could only explain as instinct. My body was screaming to protect Kagome and get her the hell out of here. 

Without my claws, I was left with my fists, holding them up at the ready and in defense. Crawling out of the darkness, Kikyo peered at the two of us and frowned. “You need to get back to the car. Now.”

“The car is a piece of shit! And we want to find Miroku. You know? Our friend that you and Onigumo left behind!!”

She waved a hand at me as if to wipe my words from the air. “Miroku is fine…”

“You don’t know that,” Kagome whispered.

As much as I liked her standing up to her cousin, I didn’t like the darkness in her tone. Because it wasn’t about Kikyo; it was about Miroku and whatever the hell happened to him. It had me grabbing Kagome and pulling her with me. “Fine, we’ll go back to the car.”

Kikyo stopped us, putting a hand on my chest as I tried to pass. “Not Kagome. Just you.”

“Excuse me?” I glared down at Kikyo but she kept her eyes locked on Kagome. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She is! I want her gone!”

Shoving Kagome behind me again, I squared up to the bitch. “She has done nothing to you. You need to stop this, Kikyo. It’s just pathetic now.”

Now she tore her gaze from Kagome, tears covering her cheeks as she grimaced up at me. “Everything is her fault. She’s the one going to college and using my funds to do it!”

“What are you talking about?” Kagome whispered.

“I didn’t get in. Anywhere. So now Mom is going to take my college fund and add it to yours. All so you can go to your damn fancy as fuck university. And I’ll stay here to rot.”

This was what it had always been about. Jealousy. So I gently grabbed Kagome again and pulled her away. “That’s your own fault. Too busy parties and being a bitch when you should have been studying your ass off like Kagome. Nothing was handed to her and you know it so shut your fucking mouth and get out of our way.”

Pushing her ahead of me, I just wanted to get Kagome far away from her fucked up family. But Kikyo grabbed me and I couldn’t let Kagome walk in this dark and fucked up forest alone. “I want you back, Inuyasha.”

Ripping from her claws, I snarled at her. “You just want me because I want someone else!”

“HER??!! Why her?!! She’s nothing! A piece of shit orphan with nothing better to do than leech off me and my family. Even my boyfriend!”

“Ex! Ex-boyfriend. You dumped me, remember?”

“Because of the way you looked at HER!” My eyes went from Kikyo to Kagome and then to the leaf-covered ground. “You can’t even deny it. You’ve been into her ever since you met her. Even while you were fucking me…”

“Shut up!” I couldn’t take any more of this and I really didn’t want Kagome hearing anymore. “You don’t know shit about me and you never did.”

Kikyo sneered, her eyes dancing from me to the one behind me, Kagome tugging on my hold to get away. But I refused to let her go. “Inuyasha… we should go…”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Spinning, I pushed Kagome along and held her elbow tight to keep her off the ground when she tripped. I couldn’t see shit but she was a walking shit storm when it came to NOT tripping on things. Kikyo released a strangled cry like she was shocked we were leaving and I had to force Kagome to keep moving forward. 

“Yash…”

Shit, I hated it when Kikyo called me that. It made me so pissed, I didn’t think, I just glared back. But something was wrong, the angled position of Kikyo’s head? It was as if she was being pulled back by her chin. Looking down, I saw her feet were barely touching the ground, on her tiptoes with the tips of her shoes grazing the leaves. 

Her eyes were wide and on me, her mouth struggling to open. “Give them… her… now.”

My brain spun, glancing back at Kagome to find her horrified and shaking. And then she took a step.

A hand on her chest, I didn’t give a shit about the proximity to her breasts. She wasn’t going anywhere near Kikyo no matter what the hell was going on. “Fuck off!”

“Give them… Kagome… please!!!” Kikyo whined.

I had to hold Kagome back again, this time wrapping her up in my arms as she fought against me. “Stop it! This is stupid!!”

It wasn’t a scream, it was a gurgle, looking back to Kikyo as a red line appeared. It drew across her neck just below her apple. And then it grew, blood spilling from it while Kikyo sputtered. 

Her body fell to the ground and she didn’t move. Kagome wanted to move, but I wouldn’t allow it. Either this was a fucked up prank or something else. Either way, Kagome didn’t need to be anywhere near it.

This time, I picked her up, lifting her into my arms kicking and screaming. At first, she screamed to go back then she just wept. God damn Kikyo was going to scar Kagome for life with this bull shit.

No one was in the car and I prayed the keys were in the ignition. With Onigumo gone, no sign of Sango, and Miroku still missing, I had to assume they were all in on it. I had Kagome tossed into the back seat when a body flew into my back. Fucking human senses, not only did I not hear Sango walk up behind but I actually jumped when she touched me. 

“Goddammit, Sango!!”

She was shaking, hard, and her hands were covered in blood. “I’m sorry, I… I… I saw… that is I found… Kikyo, it was Kikyo…”

I grabbed her. In part cause, she was about to pass out but also to shut her up before she freaked Kagome out even more. “We know, we saw.” Sango tried to climb in the car but I stopped her, pushing her back. “Tell me you had nothing to do with this?!”

Her mouth cracked in a sob. “How.. how could you think that?!”

Shoving on my hold, I felt more guilt than usual. Fucking human emotions! “Miroku is conveniently missing and Kikyo is off playing fucking ghosts. I don’t even know what the fuck Onigumo is doing right now and I don’t care.” Now the tears, Sango was pissed and crying. I sighed heavily and released my hold on her. “Just tell me you have nothing to do with this and I’ll believe you.”

She released a shuddering breath right into my face. “I have nothing to do with this.” I released her and she shuddered, “how could I be. Look at yourself? How could someone make you human?!”

I shrugged, “to be honest, there’s a lot about being a half-demon that even I don’t understand yet. And maybe tonight is a new moon and I forgot…”

“We already had a new moon. Two weeks ago…”

“I remember but maybe it’s like a blue moon or something?! I don’t know! All I know is Kikyo and Onigumo are fucking around and I’m pissed!”

Sango rolled her eyes at me but then hopped in the car, going straight to Kagome. I watched for a moment as Sango wrapped herself around Kagome. I wasn’t sure if she did it to comfort herself, Kagome, or both, but Kagome looked like she wanted nothing to do with it. That was odd in itself; Kagome was always open to affection from her friends. Even from me. 

Something to figure out later; Going to the driver seat so we could get the fuck out of here. “What are you doing?”

I glanced at Sango in the rearview, her eyes wild with fear. “Getting out of here.”

“We can’t leave Miroku and Onigumo.”

I could tell, even without my demon senses, Sango felt more worried about Miroku than Onigumo. And I had to agree, I really didn’t want to leave Miroku either. “Fine. Then let’s go back and look for Miroku.” My hand went to the ignition and found it empty. “Shit, fucking, asshole!!!”

“What?!!”

Now both Kagome and Sango were staring back at me in the reflection of the mirror, eyes impossibly wide with fear. “Nothing… the keys are missing.”

“Dammit, Onigumo must have them that prick.”

I started searching the darkness, looking for signs of the bastard. He was out there, I could see things moving. Looks like he brought some friends with him. Although who would be crazy enough to stand out in the cold dark woods for hours just to fuck with us, I didn’t know. Onigumo must have hired people or something. He was dumb enough to spend his money on something like that. 

Whoever it was, it was more than just Onigumo. He couldn’t move that fast or be in two places at once. And I was sure I was seeing more than one person as three figures moved simultaneously in different spots. 

Now, more than ever, I was sure this was a damn prank.

Which meant Miroku was being held by them somewhere. Against his will probably; Mirkou was stupid, but not crazy. He knew better than to mess with Kagome like this and he hated the woods at night. 

Something slammed into my door and the girls screamed. I jumped as well (fucking human body) and turned to find hands and a face pressed against the glass, covered in blood. 

“LET ME IN!!!”

It took me a second to clear my head and unlock the doors. Onigumo climbed in the back seat, panting and groaning. “What the hell man?!”

Sango was weeping and Kagome pushed her back, climbing over the seat to sit near Onigumo. She was propping him up, trying to get a look at whatever wounds he had. While Onigumo looked around wildly. “We need to go.”

“Go?! We can’t just leave… what about Kikyo? Miroku?!” Sango screamed.

“She’s dead. Miroku is probably dead too.”

Turning I glared back at him, “that’s not fucking funny.”

“I’m not kidding!!” He shoved the keys into my face, “just fucking drive asshole!!”

Onigumo was still playing the game hard. If I wanted to get all of us out of this stupid night, I would have to drive. Miroku and Kikyo would be waiting at the end of this so the sooner I got us there, the better.

The car started without issue and I caught Sango’s stare in the rearview mirror again. Some of her fear depleted, starting to see the con that was going on. Kagome was still shaking. But then again, she was currently getting her hands covered in blood. 

“Just forget about him, Kagome.” I put the car in drive and hit the gas hard. “This is all bullshit anyway.”

Mile Ten

Don’t drive too fast, or you’ll miss all the fun...

I wasn’t sure but we had to be getting to the end of this soon. It was only supposed to be eleven miles! I was going fifty but we were still in the endless night of the forest. No stars, no moon, and no end.

“What the fuck, is this a loop or something?!”

We had been in a straight line the entire time, no turns at all, but it felt like we were going in circles. Kagome was still messing with Onigumo, pulling carefully at his coat and then going for his shirt, trying to find his wounds. 

“I told you not to worry about the fucker, Kagome.”

The jealousy I had was unjustified but as a human, I had little to no control over it. I was pretty sure it was clear on my face and tone but Kagome ignored it. “There’s… there’s a lot of… blood. We need to… stop it and get to a… hospital.”

Even terrified to the point of witless, Kagome thought of others first. It made my heart swell and hurt a lot. 

But also it had me not watching the road.

“INUYASHA WATCH OUT!!!!”

Sango was screaming from the back and I looked to the front; a person standing in the middle of the road. Braking was pointless but I tried, slamming hard into the body of the bystander. The sickening thud of them hitting the hood and then the roof as their body went over us made us all pale. It felt like a lifetime passed before the car finally stopped, not thinking about anything else as I ripped open the door and ran around the car. 

But I didn’t understand, staring at the now dirt road, and trying to get my mind wrapped around what it was seeing. Sango managed to join me while I tumbled my brain around. She gasped and looked really hard too.

The road was empty, no body or blood.

There was no doubt, we had hit someone. I felt the car jerk from the hit. But there was no body! Running around, I went to the front of the car. Sure enough, there was a dent in the front that was easily body size. Something moved to my left, hidden by darkness and trees. I was tired of all this shit so I went after it. “Alright assholes. Come out here and face me!”

The pussies remained hidden and silent but I knew they were there. 

“I know Onigumo put you up to this. If you come out now and cut the shit, I’ll go easy on you.”

Nothing.

That is until some screams came from behind. They were coming from where I left the car. “Kagome.”

I breathed out her name out of fear. Now I had it in spades. I had left her alone and I had promised to protect her in all of this. It might be a prank but these fuckers didn’t know when to quit. They were going to scar Kagome for life and mess her up good. 

God damn Onigumo and Kikyo. I was going to tear them both to PIECES for this!!!

The car was empty when I got back to it. I’d been gone maybe five minutes; they couldn’t have gotten far. But I had no clue which way to go!

There was movement on the ground, something in the tall grass of the abandoned road. The early morning dew was freezing, seeping through my jeans. But I still rushed to the movement, finding Sango rolling and coiling in pain. She let me help her to her feet, staggering and struggling on her feet while her face began to swell. I knew what happened without a word from her, standing her up as straight as I could to look her in the eyes.

“Which way did he take her?”

She pointed then sobbed. “She was checking him over and couldn’t find a wound. Then he said, it wasn’t his blood. Who’s blood is it, Inuyasha??!!”

I knew what she was thinking and I was thinking about it too. That it was Miroku’s and that he wasn’t with us because Onigumo and Kikyo had done something very bad to him. “It’s fake, Sango. None of this is real…”

“But you’re a human?!”

I didn’t have time for this; I had to get Kagome away from these freaks. “Get in the car and don’t move. Sango? Don’t fucking leave the car for anything, understand?”

“But…”

“Nothing! I will be back with Kagome and we’ll get out of here. Try calling the cops or something.”

She pulled out her phone as she ran. I did the same and had no signal. So instead, I used the flashlight and ran towards the blackness. It was where Kagome was so I had no choice.

Mile Eleven

Don’t leave your car!!!!

I was out of breath; my lungs screaming at me. If I wasn’t a fucking human… but I couldn’t stop, I still hadn’t caught so much as a glance of Kagome yet. The flashlight of my phone wasn’t helping either. I was far too used to my demon sight; this flashlight was bull shit.

But I had nothing else so I kept using it like a dick and searching the woods. They were endless. We had to be close to a house or a town. This place wasn’t that big or remote!!! 

Nearly tripping on a root, I growled and cursed as loudly as possible, “Onigumo, where are you, you fucker?! I’m going to rip you in half!!!”

“Inuy….”

I heard her. She was cut off and that made my blood boil but Kagome and called out to me. The amount of panic in her voice pained my heart. Kagome had been scared when we went through the Senior prank. Her face was ashen and she was close to tears. 

This was nothing like that.

It no longer mattered that I was tired or blind, I ran, pushing my legs so hard into the dirt, it flew up behind me. I could hear it falling back to the leaf-covered ground like ice from a tree, crashing over the sound of my hard breaths. Nothing was going to keep me from Kagome, not the endless night or the cramp in my side. 

I saw it just in time to know what it was, a fist aimed for my nose and hitting right on the mark. It had been a while since I’d been hit like this while human. It still stung when I was a demon but at least it didn’t break my fucking nose. 

I pinched my bridge and glared up at Onigumo, Kagome weeping in his hold. “Let her go, fuck face.”

“We need her.”

No longer caring about the blood dripping down my face, I dropped my hand and stepped closer to the hostage situation. “Wrong. I need her. And I will be leaving with her now.”

“Inuyasha…”

Kagome was trying to speak but the mother fucker cut her off, squeezing her neck a little tighter with the arm around his neck. “Let her go dammit! This isn’t funny!!”

“We were supposed… we were supposed to do this together,” Onigumo muttered.

“What the fuck are you talking about?! I never wanted to do shit with you!”

“Not you!” He roared, swinging Kagome around and making my knuckles pop with how hard I clenched them. “Kikyo. We were supposed to take Kagome out here together… but she’s dead.”

“Cut the shit!!”

“I’m not lying! She’s dead Inuyasha!!”

“Then you killed her! We didn’t do anything to any of you assholes!”

Onigumo’s face slowly went slack as the truth bled through his thick skull. “You’re right… I killed her… it’s my fault.”

His hold loosened on Kagome so I lurched for her, wrenching her free and shoving him back hard. He fell on his ass and did not attempt to get up. “Kikyo said, it would work if we brought her.”

“What the hell?!” I spat, rolling Kagome up in my hold. 

She grabbed onto me hard, shaking, and sobbing. I was trying to decide if I could manage to set her aside for a moment to stomp the shit out of Onigumo but I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. Kagome was far too freaked. 

“Kagome… we needed her for this to work. Kikyo promised me it would work…”

Onigumo got to his feet and Kagome pushed on my hold. Hard. “Inuyasha, run.”

She was still pushing like she wanted me to let go and run without her. “What?!”

“Leave me and go. Now!!”

Kagome had stopped pushing and started hitting, going for my shoulders, arms, hands, sides, and then my face, smacking my nose gently but with the hit it took moments ago, she might as well have punched me. “FUCK!”

She choked on a sob and I managed to keep one hand on her. Even with her clawing at it. “Let go!!”

“Fuck that!!”

Suddenly, I was very aware of Onigumo, standing on his own two feet but just not quite right. “Please...please…”

We were silent, Onigumo begging us when we weren’t anywhere near him. “Dude.. what’s your problem?”

Kagome gripped my wrist with her nails and tried again to get free. I was too invested in Onigumo now, watching his every move. A tear fell down his cheek and my stomach dropped to my toes. I couldn’t smell, taste, or hear it but I knew there was someone else here. Something else. 

Stiffening, Onigumo got unnaturally straight, like he was trying not to be touched. “I gave you Miroku! And you took Kikyo!!”

“What the hell does that mean?” I growled. “You gave them Miroku?!”

He ignored me and continued to whimper to the air. “She’s… she’s right there, just take her.”

“Please, don’t hurt anyone else! I’ll go with you!!” Kagome shouted and tried to step closer to Onigumo.

I shut it down, yanking her kicking and screaming back into my arms. “Stop it!”

Focused on Kagome and lifting her to carry her away, I was confused by the whimper that came from Onigumo. I ignored it until I heard a strange gurgle come from him. It was stupid, blame the human half, but I turned back to look only slap a hand over Kagome’s eyes far too late. 

Just like Kikyo, a long red line was being drawn on Onigumo, starting at his belly button. I had Kagome’s sight covered tight but not my own; I was only able to sew my eyes shut just as Onigumo’s intestines hit the ground. 

I forced my eyes back open, needing to know just what the fuck we were up against, only to find Onigumo still standing with his guts on the dirt. Steam rose gently from them and blood dripped out of Onigumo’s lips but he remained standing like it was any other day. 

It had to be some kind of trick? Something I was less sure of when Onigumo bent over and started shoveling his inners back inside himself. His bones cracked and his muscles shook when he moved, looking forced. He got himself back together and closed up his jacket. 

Then smiled.

At some point, I had dropped the ball, no longer covering Kagome’s eyes. And now those eyes were staring straight into mine, blocking all of the world out with honey-colored irises. “Inuyasha… they want me, not you.”

“Wha… what are you talking about?”

“If you go now and leave me behind, they’ll let you live.”

Anger swelled in me so fast, it made my head spin. I grabbed her hard, harder than I should have but I was losing control. “Leave you behind? For who and what, Kagome?!”

A sad smile was on her face, a tear slipping silently down her cheek. “Demons. They’ve been after me for a while now. Ever since they killed my family. I ran then but I’m not going to run this time. It’s… it’s my fate, Inuyasha.”

Pulling from her magnet eyes, I glanced at the man formerly known as Onigumo. He was a suit now; something else wearing him and smiling back at us. Then I looked back at Kagome, who was calm and resigned. She was a girl I knew, one I liked. A lot. I liked Kagome a lot and the main reason for that was shit like this. She was sacrificing herself for me and Sango. Her friends, people she cared about. We were nothing, just two kids, the same age as Kagome, and yet here she was acting beyond her years.

Accepting death.

It was what she wanted. Kagome wanted me to leave and let her face her demons alone. That was the smart thing to do. The right thing in her mind. So I would do the right thing for her. “No.” She looked surprised and I tried not to be offended by that, “I’m not fucking going anywhere. Not without you.”

We were probably going to die so what difference would it make, grabbing her face and crushing her mouth to mine. It felt right, especially when she grabbed my elbow tight and didn’t push me away. If I was a demon, I could have kissed her for a lot longer. Forever maybe. But I needed air so I pulled back, resting my forehead against hers while we caught our breath. It was the clapping that had me returning to reality, spinning Kagome so she was behind me. 

The Onigumo suit was giving us a slow clap, his arms jerking apart only to slap his hands back together in a sickening show. “We are surprised by you, Inuyasha.”

“We?”

The thought that I was talking to a corpse flashed in my brain but seemed pointless to worry about now. “Yeeeessss, WE.” I was looking around and pulling Kagome closer, looking for the ‘we’ it was speaking of when it laughed. “We are right here, Inuyasha.”

The suit gestured to itself and I just had to ask. “Who the hell are you?!”

“We are many… we took this form just for her…” it pointed and Kagome whimpered, “we have many names as there are so many of us… but you may call us… Naraku.”

“Naraku? What the fuck kind of name is that?!” 

I was pissed. Pissed that I was still fucking human and that Kagome was seconds from giving herself over to this creature. She kept pulling on me and trying to go around me but I wasn’t having it. 

Naraku laughed, “It is just our name; take it or leave it. But you will be leaving Kagome with us.”

“Fuck off.”

“Onigumo and Kikyo thought they could control us, the fools,” it smirked and Kagome shivered hard, “even tainted, we ate them anyway just like Kagome’s mother, father, and little brother…”

“You’re a monster!” Kagome screamed.

Now I had her in my arms again, this time to keep her from… I’m not sure what she was going to do, run at the monster or fall to pieces. I never heard what happened to Kagome’s family, only that Kikyo and her mom took her in after they were gone. Shit, I didn’t even know she had a brother!

Naraku now looked pissed, Kagome in my arms instead of theirs. It only made me hold her tighter. “You can’t have her. She’s mine.”

Its head went back in a laugh, howling at the moonless sky above. “What can you do, Hanyou? You are nothing compared to us!!”

Roaring, Naraku rushed us. I spun, curling around Kagome to protect her. I felt the claws in my skin, digging in deep, and fuck did it hurt. This was by far the most damage my human body had ever received and I wasn’t used to the pain from it. I was close to passing out which wasn’t good, not at all. 

Blood was trickling down my sides and pain radiated all over to the point, I wasn’t sure if my back or my ribs were what was cut. Either way, life was draining from me and I struggled to breathe.

Kagome was sobbing, clutching my face in her hands. I had my eyes clenched shut against the pain but I could hear and feel her, shaking under me. She pulled me, pressing her forehead to mine like we had moments ago and whispered. “Please… don’t die for me. Inuyasha I couldn’t take losing you too.”

I was dying. The girl beneath would die right after me. And there was a demon fucking laughing behind us while we cowered in our mortality. 

Fucking pissed me the hell off.

I could feel it and I couldn’t stop it. It was for the best anyway. No part of me liked Kagome seeing this side of me but it was either this or death.

Grabbing her close, I yanked her off the ground and stood tall. I could feel my wounds slowly knitting together as my demon blood took over completely. My fangs grew, pushing against my lips and hanging out of my mouth and the tips of my fingers ached from the fast growth of my claws. 

“About time you showed up,” I told the damn demon.

“Of course, like I’d let us die.” He barked back in my head.

“Listen, we need to save Kagome. So no stupid shit, alright?”

He scoffed, “I’m not going to do anything but save both your asses.”

It was weird, the demon agreeing with me, but I would take what I could get. He must like Kagome too.

“Yes, I like her too, idiot. We’re one and the same; no matter how much you refuse to believe it.”

That was a topic for another day. A day I had been pushing off for years but it wasn’t important now. Trying to relax, I let the demon take over my body completely. He would save Kagome. There was still no moon that I could see so it was a trick of some kind created by this demon. I had never heard of that being possible but it wasn’t like I knew much about demons in general.

It laughed again, dark and sinister like the piece of shit it was. “You would hurt this body? Hurt your friend?”

Now I laughed cause all of me, demon, human, and hanyou, found that funny. Kagome clawed at me in fear and I didn’t know if it was the situation in general or she didn’t want me to hurt the sack of skin that was once Onigumo. “Even if Onigumo was ever my friend, you killed him already. I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“Could have fooled us. You brought her here like a gift and yet, you won’t even share?”

“He doesn’t know anything about you. He’s not a part of this at all.” Kagome screamed, pushing on my hold yet again.

Not only was I fighting a gaggle of demons, but I was also fighting Kagome as well. I couldn’t do both so one had to be stopped. And one was easy enough, grabbing Kagome by her shoulders and holding her off the ground so we were face to face. “Get this straight, Kagome, I’m not giving you up so this is my fight. I’m the demon and you’re the human. My human. So shut up and let me handle this!”

I kissed her again, not giving a shit because I wanted her and only her. My longer fangs pressed against her lips and I didn’t dare deepen it in this form. I agreed with the Hanyou, I really liked Kagome too, and I didn’t want to hurt her. Being gentle with her as I pulled her from my mouth and set her back on the ground. 

I didn’t grab her or wrap her up in my hold again. I didn’t need to; she came to me, willingly. That fight was over and so I faced the real one right before us. Naraku wasn’t happy and that made me crow, pissing him off. 

“We will give you one last chance, Hanyou. We don’t want to harm another of our kind…”

“Funny didn’t stop you a minute ago…”

Naraku grimaced, “GIVE HER TO US!”

“Go to hell!”

The suit rushed us again but this time I was ready, grabbing Kagome by the waist and jumping over the bag of bones. Or a bag of demons. 

I twisted in the air and ran my claws down the back of the body. It was already ripped open in the front and now I ripped open the back of what was once Onigumo’s body. Once on the ground, I shoved Kagome behind me and she grabbed tight to my shirt, ripping it more while it was already shredded and covered in blood. I ignored the small tugs to my hair she did as well, grabbing and pulling in her worry. But she no longer had anything to fear.

The body shifted, shaking and quaking in a sickening manner as the demons shed their skin. The real battle was about to begin. But there was nothing; Onigumo falling to the ground, empty, and nothing to show for it. They were still there, their stink permeating the forest air. I could smell it as they got closer, circling Kagome and me to taunt. 

“We have always had her, you know.” The voice echoed around us, all of them speaking as one as they surrounded us. “Even as a child. Even before this life, she has had now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I screamed, feeling stupid talking to air.

The air chuckled and the trees shook with a breeze. Kagome grabbed onto my shoulders as if she could hold onto me tighter. “This life. Any life. We find her and we take her. This is the first time she has had another demon stand between us. It is annoying and only delaying the inevitable.”

I glanced back at Kagome and her eyes were wide with shock and terror. She had no clue what the bastards were talking about. “She is just smarter than before.”

Her eyes darted to mine and I turned away, focusing on the task at hand instead of what Naraku was hinting at. It didn’t matter if Kagome was using me. Not right now it didn’t. I wasn’t sure I cared at all, she could use me as much as she wanted and I would use her right back. 

“The fuck you will!” The Hanyou roared in my head. 

I shook him out and ignored anything and everything else. Naraku was what was important right now. Sight was useless, so I relied on my other senses. Like smell. The scent of rot was strongest behind us, edging closer to Kagome. I didn’t like that, not at all. 

Spinning us around, I kept Kagome behind me and faced the demon head-on. The air shifted in front of me, the shadows bending ever so slightly as the demon moved to stand right in front of me. Either Naraku was dumb, cocky, or didn’t think I could see it but I didn’t hesitate to slash him with my claws. 

Naraku reared back, squealing, but I was sure I hadn’t really hurt him. He was playing me, trying to get me to lower my guard. But Kagome’s grip still slipped from my shoulders and she whimpered loudly.

It was all just a distraction.

She was already in the air, flailing her legs while trying to rip an invisible hand from her mouth. I caught a foot and yanked on her. It probably hurt but it was the only choice I had; getting a hold of her calf after that. It released her mouth then to grab onto her shoulders instead. It didn’t have a good hold and I was far stronger than it. 

Claws ripped through my coat and to Kagome’s skin, deep scratches to her shoulders, but I got her free and back in my arms. Cradling her to my chest, I let my heart settle. That had been way too close. 

Fear had my chest in a vice. Because I wasn’t sure how to get us out of this. They were dead set on taking Kagome and not fighting me. It made it all so much harder than if they would just fight me for her. Then I could rip them to shreds and keep their hands off her. 

As it was now, she was just a distraction for me. 

I couldn’t tell her to run; they would follow and catch her. So as much as it pained me, I did the only thing I could, keeping Kagome in my arms and taking off back out of the woods. 

“GET BACK HERE!!!” The monster growled. 

Kagome folded her face into my chest as I ran far beyond human speed. It was hard on a human, going this fast, but I had no choice. Naraku was on our heels and the car was still a good distance away. Which wasn’t right; we hadn’t walked that far from it. Onigumo and I were both human when we left it behind. Even running, a demon could make up the distance in no time. And yet, the car still sat in the ever stretching distance.

It was a trap.

When I stopped, Naraku’s laughter filled the air again, bouncing off the tall dark trees that loomed like skinny giants. It sounded like a hundred demons all laughing at once. It made Kagome shiver in my arms, despair, horror, pain, and cold making her body dance. I could smell all of it off her skin even with the rot surrounding us and nearly choking me with it. 

Naraku was shifting around us in a circle and I was livid. “ENOUGH! Face me now, Naraku. Fight me like a demon instead of a scared little pup. Fight me and whoever wins gets Kagome!”

I set Kagome down but she grabbed onto me tight, pulling my attention from the swirling mass that surrounded us. “Don’t do this, Inuyasha. I’m not worth it.”

A grin pulled at the corner of my mouth and I carefully brushed her tears away with my claw. “Yes, you are.”

This time, she tipped up on her toes, grabbing my forelocks to pull me down and her up as she kissed me. A growl rumbled in my chest and I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her into me hard. The Hanyou wanted me to be gentle but when she kissed me instead of me kissed her? Yeah, fuck gentle, I squeezed her to me and pressed my tongue to her lips so she would open them. And she did, letting my tongue flick across hers a few times then she ran her tongue along my fangs. I was ready to throw her to the ground with that. But it would have to wait; pulling back to handle Naraku first. Then I would handle Kagome. 

The Hanyou was silent with that, telling me he agreed with me again.

My mouth still touched hers and I knew Naraku would hear me, but I didn’t have a choice. “As soon as he’s distracted, run.”

“I won’t…”

“You’re a problem for me here. With you gone, I’ll do better. So just run. I’ll be right behind you.”

I was cursing my claws, wanting to wrap my fingers in her hair. But I didn’t want to cut so I settled for cupping her cheek, the pads on my fingers dancing on her ear. I mean it, that I would be right behind her, but Kagome’s sobs told me she didn’t believe me. “He has taken… everyone I had ever cared about… I don’t want him to take you too.”

Pushing her back a small distance, I sneered down at her. “Have a little faith in me, would ya?!”

She choked on her laugh, sounding painful as it mixed with her tears. But she still smiled softly up at me. She trusted me and that was worth more than anything else in this world to me. Naraku was growling around us like a caged tiger but I felt no fear of him towards me. Just towards Kagome. Once she left, everything would be easier. 

“Your cousin was tasty. She had a little of you in her blood but not enough.”

Kagome tensed and I pushed her the rest of the way behind me. “What is it you want from Kagome anyway?”

That’s right, start monologuing. Then I can rip your throat out while you talk about yourself. 

“She is a rarity. Every time she is reborn, we search her out. We found her once already as a child but she got away. Her family didn’t; her mother sacrificing herself for Kagome.” Kagome cried loudly. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. “But then her Cousin wanted something and came to us.”

I slowly moved towards the smell, gently leaving Kagome behind, but stopped at that. “Kikyo came to you? She’s not a demon worshipper!”

“No, she isn’t. Which made tricking her so much easier. So gullible. She even brought along others for us to snack on.” Miroku’s face flashed in my mind but pushed it back; the Hanyou wanted to ask but I knew better. “All she wanted was Kagome gone, to take her place in life. Kikyo wanted to become Kagome. Envy is such a nasty sin.”

“That’s not true! Kikyo would never want to be me!”

Kagome was a short distance from me now but I still didn’t like it. She was drawing attention away from me and I could get closer but I never wanted to use her as bait. 

“She did! Oh did she ever. With you going off to college and the Hanyou falling in love with you, she wanted to be you so bad she risked her soul for it, dragging you all out here to play a game.” Naraku laughed, “so many people fall for that stupid ritual. None of you followed the rules though, not even Kikyo. If she had, maybe she would still be alive. But she was far too eager and naïve.”

This was going to scar Kagome for life, I needed to hurry up and cut this bastard off. I was close, I could smell it, close to vomiting from the stench. The last foot, I jumped and glowing red eyes flashed to me, telling me instantly that I was right. And that I had the upper hand, the eyes wide with agitation and I overtook them. I wasted no time slashing what was otherwise air to most. It was the host, the main demon, and the one that the others were attached to. If I killed it, the others would die or return to hell with it. 

It looked like a shadow as if the tiny bits of light from an unknown source bent around the space out of coincidence. But my claws still caught on something, pulling against it as I dragged them down. It was a deep cut multiplied by four. If it was human, it would be dead in seconds. As a demon, I needed to do more. 

So I windmilled my other paw around, catching what I had to guess was Naraku’s shoulder. A matching mark to the two it put on Kagome. She would already struggle to forget this night without the physical scars she was going to have. 

This son of a bitch was going to fucking pay.

Naraku jumped back and I followed him, getting my claws around his neck and squeezing. “How..dare.. you...Mutt!”

I chuckled darkly in his ‘face’, imagining it turning red with anger then purple from my squeezing. “Breeding doesn’t matter in life or death. I will kill you for harming a hair on Kagome’s head.”

Just barely, I could make out his grin and craned my neck to look behind. Kagome had her hands out as if holding back someone, keeping them from getting close. She could see these fuckers better than I could somehow and, based on her body language, they had her surrounded. 

“Kagome?!” She took a step back, not looking at me, and spun, keeping her hands out and the invisible force at a distance. I glared back at the bastard in my hold. “This is between you and me, asshole.”

I could feel his throat jump under my palm as he laughed. “It never had anything to do with you.”

Kagome screamed and I dropped the demon I held, racing back to Kagome. Her arms collapsed as her hands met my chest, pulling her into my arms and swiping blindly at the air around us. “Back off!! You can’t have her!!!!”

“She belongs to us!!!” One of them hissed.

I swiped in the direction of the voice but came up empty. “The FUCK she does!!!”

“Is this what you want, Kagome? Trading one demon for another?” Another one spat and I swiped again.

“He’s not a demon! Not like you!! You’re a monster!!!” Kagome screamed.

“Inuyasha’s the monster. Half breed and disgusting monster.” The one I slashed seethed, struggling to speak from his wounds.

Kagome shook her head against my chest, still hiding. “You’re wrong!” I didn’t understand what was going on but clearly, Kagome was now fighting for me. There was no need, my ego was fine. But she persisted, pulling away to yell at them some more. “Inuyasha may only be half but that makes him a hundred times more than you’ll ever be!!!”

She was pissing them all off, getting closer until I could feel their touch stinging my skin. It was a horde of demons and something was off about them. Because their touch hurt. I had been touched by other demons before and it didn’t feel anything like this. Even my half brother, who was a dick, didn’t hurt when he just touched me. 

These guys were more than demons, they were cursed.

I contained my pain as much as possible, bending over Kagome to spare her from it and groaning when it became too much. Kagome wrapped her arms around me, her hands pressing into the back of my ribs. I pressed my face into her neck to fight the overwhelming agony that was filling my body. The pain went away suddenly so I pulled away from Kagome’s skin only to be blinded by light. Kagome’s eyes were scrunched shut in concentration but as the light dissipated, she dared to look flustered. The heat of her skin was on her cheeks and in my nose, smelling her embarrassment without really knowing why.

Something for later, looking around us now and sniffing the air. Only one remained, his stench the strongest because he was the one I slashed. Naraku had survived whatever the hell Kagome had done. The light had moved but hadn’t left, circling the edge of the trees and lighting up the middle where we stood. So now, Naraku stood out greatly in the now lit woods.

He was an ugly bastard; his body riddled with decay. It was why he hadn’t healed from the hits I gave him moments ago. Mine healed instantly with my demon form. He was weak and now it showed. This bastard, giving me shit about being weaker as a hanyou when he could barely keep his lungs inside his body.

“What have you done?!”

“Evened the odds.”

I was never more attracted to a person than I was Kagome right now. Her fear still scented the air, sweeter than the nasty demon before us, but she stood tall. Pushing away from me, she gave me silent permission to finish the fight. Smirking at Naraku caused him to shiver, a chuckled rumbling from my throat at his fear. 

But then he stepped back and glared right at Kagome. “This isn’t over.”

He was gone but Kagome still ran, trying to catch him. “NO!!!” She fell to the ground and dug with her hands like she could pull Naraku back up from hell. Her hands were muddy and bloody when I pulled her away, cradling her again in my arms. “It will never be over.” She whimpered.

I held her tight and walked us back to the car. Kagome had seen enough demons tonight so I released mine, returning to my usual form of half and half, hoping that was enough. Not once did Kagome pull away from me tonight in fear of me. For me, sure. But she had also kissed me in my full demon form. 

I would never forget that but now was not the time.

As it was, I didn’t know if there would ever be a time, Kagome wasn’t shaking and sobbing in my hold. I was in awe when she didn’t take the entire length it took to get to the car to calm down. I expected it to take months but she soon pulled her face from her hands and leaned against my chest. Where her head sat, I was sure she was listening to my heart. Whatever she was doing it helped, listening to her heart, as well, as it calmed down, finally.

“The first time I saw him… he was my grandfather.” It was slow but Kagome was going to tell me all and I needed to be patient. “None of us were prepared or understood when Grandpa slit my father’s throat in front of us. We were in shock and that’s how he got my baby brother Souta.” She stopped to sob a little at the memory and I held her a little tighter. “Mother grabbed me and we ran deeper into the house. She shoved me under a bed and told me to stay there no matter what. And I did until the cops pulled me out from under it. They told me my grandpa had lost his mind and killed everyone, himself last. No one believed me when I told them he wasn’t my Gramps.”

“Why would they? You were a scared kid and they had nothing more than a body for proof.”

“You believe me? Don’t you?”

She was watching me, looking up at me begging. “Of course I do. I just met the bastard myself!”

“Not just that,” she said, shaking her head, “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t call a demon looking for something…”

“No, that was your damn cousin.”

Kagome whimpered, “poor Kikyo.” I huffed but she didn’t say more. “Inuyasha… are you in love with me?”

I almost dropped her. Out of everything that happened tonight not only did she catch that but she wanted to talk about it so soon. “Um… yeah, I think I am.” The nod she gave me was far from satisfying. And I was ashamed. Not only was I outed by a damn demon, Kikyo had seen it as well. “This is… tonight was my fault.”

“Stop it.”

“If I hadn’t made you come…”

“You didn’t make me do anything!”

“Or if I wasn’t so fucking obvious…”

“It wasn’t obvious to me!”

“All this proves that you being with me is bad. It would only bring you pain.”

Kagome was silent with that because she knew I was right. It would never work with us. 

The car was now in her sight, close enough for human eyes to see. There was no scent of rot or death anymore and she was no longer shaking so I set her down on her feet to walk the rest of the way on her own. Setting boundaries right away was what I needed with the memory of her kissing me playing over and over in my head thanks to the demon jackass. 

Sango flung open the door and ran to us. She was searching us for wounds, Kagome’s shoulders still bleeding. But she was also searching us for answers, reminding me of the news we had to deliver. “Where’s Miroku? Is he not with you??”

Clearly, he wasn’t but her freaked out brain still needed answers. Kagome grabbed her tight and the words failed me. Sango sobbed and fell completely into Kagome’s hold. I broke the window to the trunk with my fist.

We were all shattered.

I had to hope we could get a signal now. What with the moon and stars back out from wherever they were hiding. It had a little, quickly putting in my address to get us the fuck out of there. The girls sat just behind me. Sango was still sobbing, laying in Kagome’s lap who looked back at me in the reflection. I offered her the best smile I could manage right now and started the car. 

Breathing a sigh of relief when it rumbled with life, I had just put it into drive and began to move when something hit the side hard. “Goddammit!!”

Kagome and Sango squealed in the back as blood was smeared across the window. I was fucking done with this night. Demons, dumbasses, and pranksters. I didn’t care which one was currently outside the car, cause I was going to tear them apart regardless. 

Slamming the car into park, I wrenched open the door, only to have my breath catch in my throat. “Miroku?!”

He had his hand cradled against his chest and was favoring his left side, but it was definitely Miroku, back from the dead. Sango nearly knocked him over, leaping on him and wrapping herself around him. Then she helped into the car, laying him out across the seat. Kagome had jumped up to the front to sit next to me. They barely had their door shut when I took off. I wanted no more surprises tonight. 

“What happened??” Sango wailed, still half in shock. 

Miroku moaned like a dying man from her lap. The smell of his blood was strong; he very well could be dying. “Onigumo. When we went to piss, he came up from behind, stabbed my right side below my ribs, and pinned my hand to a tree with the same fucking knife. He went on and on about a sacrifice, I figured he’d lost his damn mind!”

“He did,” I stated and everyone was quiet.

Kagome took my hand, the one I rested on the shifter. It was the same as any other day and she showed no fear of me as usual. It didn’t matter what I showed her, my inner demon, or my secret feelings. She didn’t fear me when she really should.

One Week Later...

We got our story straight before Miroku got all his stitches. Nothing important was hit but he would have limited feeling and use of his hand for a long time. Maybe forever. 

The story was, we went for a drive, Kikyo and Onigumo left for some alone time, and never came back. A week later and the cops still hadn’t found their bodies. I was pretty sure that was because we were never on the road we told them we were on. The one we traveled didn’t exist. Not in this dimension. 

The rumors were running wild around the school. Some said Kikyo ran away with Onigumo while others said they were murdered by a serial killer. A few said I killed Onigumo and Kikyo out of jealousy and a small handful thought Kagome did it. But they were small and quiet about it because it was the craziest of all the damn theories. 

Kagome would never hurt a fly.

Finally, it was fucking Friday. I was tired. Tired of all the bullshit and school. Mostly I was tired from avoiding Kagome all week long. Miroku was blowing up my phone, trying to get me to go out with him when my doorbell rang. I wouldn’t put it past Miroku to just show up and force me to hang out. He’d done it before. 

When I ignored the bell, they knocked. Miroku wasn’t going away. I made sure to stomp loud enough for him to hear as I went to the door and flung it open. “I’m not doing shit tonight…”

“If I’m being honest, I’m not in the mood to do anything either.”

It was Kagome, standing at my door like it was any other day. Still in her school uniform, she had a duffle in one arm and her backpack in the other. Without a thought, I grabbed them both from her. Manners aside, she hadn’t had a thing on her shoulders all week thanks to the gashes she received on them. “What are you doing here?”

She walked past me, no hesitation, entering my home. Kagome had never been to my place before, slowly taking it all in. I lived alone, wasn’t sure she knew that and had minimal furniture. A couch with a tv before it, a decently stocked kitchen, a tiny bathroom, and a bed that was all one large room. I didn’t even have a divider between my couch and my bed. So I could watch tv from it if I wanted to.

“You live alone?” I nodded. “What about your mother?”

Kagome knew about my father and that we were… estranged. I hadn’t told her about my mother and if others had, she still wanted to hear it from me. “Cancer. Five years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

Somehow, Kagome managed to say it without it sounding like pity. Maybe that was in my head, knowing about her family as well? Knowing she could truly empathize and understand my pain as she had felt it herself. But she hadn’t answered my question and I had hers like a puppy. “Kagome, what are you doing here? And what’s with the bag??”

“I’m sorry, I would have called first but you wouldn’t have answered anyway….”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about….”

“You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

With no place better to sit, I flopped to the edge of my bed and grimaced back at her. “So? I have no reason to spend time with you. I thought I made that clear last week? Remember?! Demon summoned to take you all because of my feelings for you?!”

Hands on her lovely hips, she popped one out and smirked at me from my living room, “well aren’t we full of ourselves?!”

“Kikyo was jealous of you because I’m in love with you.”

Goddammit, I didn’t mean to just admit it like that. Or ever. But Kagome already knew. She still looked aghast, like I hadn’t said it to her before. I told her that night, that fucked up night that I was in love with her, why did she look so shocked?!

Shaking her head, my demon growled at me to make her submit. I let him out one time and he thought he owned the place. “No, because she kissed us.”

“Shut up,” I screamed in my head.

“I thought… I didn’t think you would just come out with it like that. Not now.” She responded, reading my mind.

“It’s not like you didn’t already know.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, it’s different this time.”

We got quiet and it got awkward. I watched as she looked at her fingers that she twisted at her belly. This was getting us nowhere and things were only getting worse between us. “I’m sorry I avoided you. It wasn’t… I’m not mad or anything. I just think it’s for the best.”

“Why?”

“I told you… I’m no good for you. Even as a friend. Bad things happened to you because of me….”

“Bad things happened to me regardless. They have nothing to do with you,” she spat, getting angry.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Safe than sorry?!” She shook her head at the floor but I could still smell the salt of her tears from my perch. “I am sorry for putting you out with my near-death experience!”

“That’s not what I…”

Wrapping her arms around herself as best she could, I watched her fidget all the more, wincing a little from her sore shoulders. “If you don’t want to be with me then just say so, Inuyasha. I wouldn’t blame you, it’s not like my life is anything great! It’s a mess, a dangerous, mess.”

I could feel the heat on my cheeks but I still couldn’t look away from her. “I do want to be with you….”

“But don’t spin some bullshit lie about it being better for me! I would have been dead if it wasn’t for you!” Her frustrated words brought her closer to me, pacing over to me on the bed. 

I shook my head but kept my eyes on her. “You also wouldn’t have been in the situation if it wasn’t for me….”

“I was in that situation because a crazy demon has a hard-on for me,” she countered.

I chuckled. “I’m a demon with a hard-on for you. What’s the difference?”

It was like she was in a trance, reaching over and picking up one of my hands. I wasn’t even sure she was aware she was doing it, playing with my fingers dangerously close to my claws and watching her work. “The difference is, I want you to have a hard-on for me.”

I was tugging her, using the hand she held to pull her closer until she stood between my knees. “I’m not the brightest guy, Kagome. You’re going to have to tell me what you mean by that.”

She was looking at me through her bangs, either trying to hide or be sneaky about it. “It means… the feelings are mutual. How could it not be?” When I cocked a brow up at her, she released a shuddering breath while her face began to glow. “I’m in love with you, Inuyasha.” She refused to look at me while I refused to look anywhere other than right at her. “What are we going to do about this?”

Her finger danced between us, showing me her ‘this’ was our relationship. “Nothing, right? We do nothing about it.”

The smile she wore was fake but she finally looked up at me to nod. “Nothing.”

She was still between my knees and yet, she was getting closer and I wasn’t sure if I was pulling or if she was leaning. “Yeah, nothing. Knowing how we feel... it’s enough, isn’t it?”

Slowly, she nodded her nose inches from mine. “Yeah, it’s enough.”

I tilted my head to the side just in time, Kagome barely missing my nose and forehead when her mouth met mine. Hard. A heartbeat later and she was on my lap, straddling me. My hands were on her bare thighs, moving upward across the soft, warm skin. It wasn’t long before I had her ass in my hands, kneading the flesh. She was still in her uniform but I wasn’t, opting for my usual ‘need to do laundry’ attire of ratty sweat pants and a stained t-shirt. I looked rough but it had her panties against my thin pants. Fuck, I didn’t even have on briefs, free-balling so I didn’t have to do laundry today.

She removed my shirt, getting her fingers around the hem at my back and pulling up hard. I didn’t stop her. I encouraged her, raising my hands towards the ceiling like a child that needed help. 

Shirt gone, she fell back to my mouth and we nipped and sucked at each other like there was no tomorrow. Her fingers threaded my hair and my fingers worked on her buttons, stopping halfway to run my hands across the flat plane of her belly. It caused her to giggle against my lips and I slipped my tongue inside her mouth. 

She helped me take her shirt off the rest of the way after I unbuttoned, all while keeping our mouths planted to one another. Just like when I was full demon, she ran her tongue along my fangs, daring to press it against the sharp tip of one of them. I didn’t move, afraid I’d pierce her tongue. As hot as that sounded, doing it now would definitely kill the mood and I was pretty sure Kagome didn’t want a tongue ring. 

But then again, there was still so much we didn’t know about each other.

With her tongue safe and playing with mine again, I left her mouth and trailed down her chin to her neck. The hand I had on her back, holding her steady on my lap, went to the clasp of her bra. It fell on our crotches, the two of them pressed together, as soon as I flicked it open. With her shoulder wounds, she was wearing something strapless. I found myself kissing along the bandages, wishing I could heal her like I could myself. 

Now I had her nipples before my eyes. No wonder she had to wear strapless; the weight of these puppies had to hurt on her sore shoulders. I had my hands wrapped around her shoulder blades, running a gentle thumb over her bandages, reminding myself to be gentle while my demon was screaming for me to take her hard and fast.

“Yeah like those delicious titties against our fangs.”

“Shut the fuck UP!” I yelled in my head.

Letting my demon out once had him all in a tizzy to get out again, but I was used to it and knew how to control him… mostly. Having Kagome naked on my lap so soon after releasing him probably wasn’t a good idea. But none of me wanted to turn back, touching my tongue to the bottom of her nipple and licking upwards. She moaned softly and I decided then and there that it wasn’t enough. I needed her to moan much louder until it hurt my sensitive hearing.

So I sucked her nipple in, shoving half of her heavy breast into my mouth and pressed my fangs gently into her flesh. 

“AH!!”

The lift of her moan made it sound as if she was confused or surprised. She didn’t understand the pull she had on me or the desire she had for me in return. And no one had made her feel like this before. 

And no one had made me feel like she did, little fingers stroking my ears while her hips twitched on mine. I was going to come in my pants at this rate, flicking her nipple inside my mouth with my tongue. She whined when I took her out of my mouth, but it was only so I could do the same to the other breast. That she appreciated greatly, rubbing my ears harder and fully thrusting on my lap.

We still had bottoms on when I flipped us, tossing us behind to the bed and placing Kagome under me. Her dark, beautiful browns eyes stared up at me with wide fascination. But not fear. Never fear. And we took a moment to appreciate the gravity of the situation. I was letting her catch her breath and her senses, allowing her a chance to tell me no or to stop. She was brushing her fingers through my hair, watching her fingers as they disappeared in the white.

Time was up and nothing was said. When I sat back and pulled down my sweats, she sat up and unzipped her skirt. Moving quickly, I stopped her from doing the rest. I wanted to be the one to remove her panties.

Her scent was all over them, smelling of hot spices from the tea on her skin and a sweetness that had been coming from her pussy since she straddled me. I had never smelled anyone like her; it was intoxicating, making me drunk as I licked up the inside of her thigh to the scent. Kagome made the cutest sound when I split her thighs and kept licking. Like a gasp mixed with a moan coming out like a hiccup. I looked up at her through my fringe while I lapped up her flavor, rolling my tongue around in her folds first. Her eyes were wide on me for a moment but when I found her clit, they closed and her mouth opened. She fell back to the bed when I stuck my tongue inside her, twisting it against her walls to taste her fully.

She tasted just as sweet as she smelled and fuck it tasted good. I did feel drunk, sucking and lapping at her without reserve until she came. Even then I didn’t stop, more of her sweet scent and flavor flowing out with her orgasm. Now she was being very loud and even though my ears pressed back from the sound, I loved it.

Releasing her from my tongue, I slowly crawled over her. Resting on top of her, in between her legs, I watched her return from her high. She was so fucking beautiful on a regular basis but when she was flush and panting from me making her feel good? It made her glow in a manner I wasn’t prepared for, my heart going fucking nuts in my chest. It had my ‘drunk’ ass saying things I probably should have kept to myself.

“Goddammit, I’m so in love with you.”

This time, she wasn’t shocked, her eyes and mouth didn’t widen. Instead, she fucking purred. “I love you too.”

I hoped she was ready because she was looking more beautiful than ever with the smile she wore, her eyes warm and deep. There was no stopping me now, I was going to make love to her. With my tip pressed to her entrance, she knew what was going to happen too and she showed no hesitation, leaning into me with her hips. 

Her arms went around my neck and I sunk into her. It was all I could do to not think about her hot sweetness coating my cock because if I did, I was sure to come right away. Kagome was panting beneath me and I could smell a little blood. I was hurting her. 

I tried to pull away but she held me tight, wrapping her legs around me to join her arms. “Please… don’t stop…”

It was all the encouragement I needed, sinking back in the rest of the way only to slowly pull out of her again. A few pulses at a quarter of my speed and Kagome had her arms wrapped around my back, her nails digging into my ass cheeks. 

“Faster…” She moaned and I obliged.

Up on my arms, I hovered over her and watched her bounce from my thrusts. As a much-needed distraction, I sniffed the air and concentrated. Because half of me expected Naraku to show up when I took Kagome’s virginity. I was hoping that was all he wanted her for, a pure and powerful girl? But as my tip pressed to her womb hard the room filled with her scent alone, I knew it was more than that, more than this. 

Kagome was something else, something more. But I already knew that.

When her walls began to quiver, pulsing around me, I fell back to her. My face in the crook of her neck, I smelled her, breathing her and her spicy scent in deeply. Her mouth was right next to my ears, her head pressed back into my pillows. She was loud and I didn’t care; Kagome was crying as she came again. I was busy enjoying the pooling of her sweetness around my shaft, throbbing and warming me down to my bones until I came so hard my head spun.

I rested, feeling more winded than when I was chasing after her and Onigumo. It had felt like my own life was at stake while she was in his clutches and I never wanted to feel like that again, feel that fear for her life. 

Pressing my lips hard and deep into the side of her neck, I pulled out of her and her sticky sweetness clung to me tightly. It felt so damn good, almost as good as mid-coital. Almost.

There wasn’t a thought in my head to wash her off of me; rolling onto my back, happily sticky from sweat too. Kagome didn’t mind, rolling into me and resting her head on my chest. I pulled the rest of her body flush to my side and kissed the top of her head, breathing in her hair as I rested. 

My hand found its way to her shoulder and grazed the bandage again, brushing it over and over in a circle of want. Because I wanted to make it go away. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Kagome whispered. 

But I had seen her strain from time to time with stiffness. “Doctor said it would scar.”

“My penance for all the people that lost their lives because of me.”

The injuries to her shoulders were more than that; they were a mark from another demon and as much as it pissed me off, it was far from being Kagome’s fault. “None of that was ever your fault and I will spend the rest of our lives reminding you of that if I have to.”

I could feel a smile on her lips as they pressed against my skin. “The rest of our lives?”

It was stupid of me, talking about forever when we hadn’t even gotten out of high school yet. But together or not, I would protect her and I would love her. 

“You don’t have to be with me, you know? You don’t have to feel obligated to protect me and stay by my side forever,” she said to my chest. 

I dug under her chin to push her head back; brown eyes that swirled with honey looked up at me. “Are you stupid?”

She was still frowning, tears at the edge of her eyes. “I’m not using you. Not for protection or comfort.”

“Oh, so I’m the one that’s stupid?”

“Are you going to twist everything I say?”

“Only when you say something stupid!”

She giggled at that and fell deeper into me. Holding her close, I listened to the gentle beating of her heart. “He’ll come back for me. Someday.”

“And I’ll stop him then too.” I’d been wanting to talk to her about something but didn’t know where to begin. Especially with avoiding her. “That thing you did in the woods?” She tensed at that. “It was… pretty amazing.”

“You’re not scared of me?”

I was a demon; so I probably should be. “No. Not even a little bit.”

“Good. I’m not scared of you either.”

“How often have you done that?”

I wasn’t sure what she had done but I was pretty sure, what with him a no-show and Kagome good and fucked by me now, that it was why Naraku wanted her so badly. “That was… a first. I’ve never… done something… that big before.”

“But you did it in the past? Against your Gramps?”

Her heart picked up at that and I knew I had hit the mark with that one. My mother had wasted away in front of my eyes. I had to tell them to pull the plug. Thirteen and as the only family she had that gave a shit, it was up to me. I still didn’t think that measured up to Kagome having to kill her possessed grandfather. Not even close.

She let me hold her tight for a few moments, then pushed off me and the bed, finding and digging into the duffle she had brought until she had a long nightshirt over her naked body. I propped myself up on an elbow and watched her. “Oh you were so cocky, you brought a change of clothes?”

“No. I was on my way to Sango’s.”

I looked closer at the bag, the size of it catching my attention now. “You staying the whole weekend or something? That’s more than any girl needs for one night.”

Kagome froze for a second, then turned away to mess with her bag again. “My aunt kicked me out.”

“What?!” I was off the bed and pulling my sweats back on. It didn’t feel right to be naked for this conversation. “She can’t do that!!”

“Why not? I’m eighteen and she never wanted me anyway.”

“She wanted you,” I spat without thinking as I paced, “wanted you as a slave.”

“That reminds me, I’m out of a job too.”

“This is bullshit!” I roared.

Kagome sat on the floor before her bag, as if beaten and I didn’t like it one bit. “When… I came home and Kikyo didn’t… Auntie never believed me either when I told her it was a demon that killed my family. I didn’t think Kikyo believed me either until we were in those woods. She took me because she thought she could make a deal with Naraku. And with Auntie promising me Kikyo’s college money…”

“You still have that, you still have college!”

I thought that would make her come around but it only made her droop more. “I have some money saved thanks to Sango getting me a bank account my aunt knew nothing about. And I have the money my family left me that she didn’t have access to. But… Auntie never intended to give me that money. She just said that to try and motivate Kikyo. Guess it worked in a way.”

I flopped to the floor next to her, looking at her face while she stared at her bag. “It’s not right, Kagome. You deserve more. You always have.”

She shrugged; “I’m the girl whose family died because of her. I don’t think I deserve anything less. And now I have Kikyo’s and Onigumo’s death on my track record…”

“That wasn’t you!! They gave themselves to Naraku!”

“Auntie blames me and is now using all of her money to find Kikyo. So even if she had planned to pay for my college, she isn’t now for sure. And she should look for Kikyo. I wish I could tell her the truth…”

I shook my head hard and it got her eyes to mine. “No. I don’t want anyone else looking at you like that, thinking you’re responsible in any way. Naraku isn’t your fault and they went into those woods on their own. Dragging us along under false pretenses. I looked up that stupid game, they didn’t even follow any of the rules! They were never going to get what they wanted, they just wanted to kill people!”

After a few heartbeats, Kagome nodded. “You’re right. If anyone believed us, it would only make the two of them look bad. I’ve caused Auntie enough pain.”

At that, I scooped her off the floor and back into my lap. Only this time, I was cradling her to me. It wasn’t sexual in the least. It was comforting. “Stay with me.”

She nodded again against my chest. “For tonight, sure…”

“No. Move in with me. Stay with me. I’ll take care of you..”

She pushed back, already a rebuttal on her lips. “I can’t do that…”

“Yes, you can!”

“We just started… whatever! I can’t move in with you!”

I pulled her back to me, kissing her as hard and as deep as I could for the short seconds she allowed me to. “I want you here. It’ll bring me peace, knowing you’re safe. And it’ll make it easier when we bang.”

She smiled through her blush and I kissed her again. Kagome pushed me back gently before I could get my tongue in her mouth but I was sure I was weakening her resolve. “Aren’t you worried? Scared that I might use you for protection? Or for a home in general?”

I was already scoffing at her hard before she finished. “You would never do that to anyone. And you sure as shit wouldn’t do it to me.”

“I feel like…” she tapered off and I thought for a moment, that she wouldn’t finish, “like you know me. Better than anyone. Is that possible?”

It had to be because I felt the same way. That I knew her and she knew me. “Yeah. But maybe it’s the sex talking.”

She slapped me playfully on the chest. “Would you stop that?!”

“Not until you agree to live with me!”

I had her, the flush of her cheeks and the smile on her face told me so. She was fighting it hard, her smile and giving me what I wanted, but I was going to win. “Oh...okay. BUT if Naraku shows up again I’m not getting you involved. You will stay out of it!”

She was dead serious and there was no way I was agreeing to that. If Naraku ever showed his ugly fucking face again I was going to rip his spine out. If he had one. 

Kagome was waiting for my answer. She would split out my door if I didn’t agree, that much was clear. So I would lie to her just this once. “Alright. I’ll stay out of it.”

With that, I lifted her and took us to the bed where we celebrated our new living arrangement and relationship late into the evening.

You have reached the end. Now think of your desire, the thing you want most in this world. See it in your mind. Taste it on your tongue. Now turn back and you will find your life changed. The love of your life has appeared or even your bank account is now flush with cash. What is the price? Is your car now haunted? No, you proved your worth. The Eleven Mile, however, will stay in your mind in the form of nightmares or pleasant dreams. But this is nothing to what you’ve gained, right?

[rankdisasster]

thick as thieves

“I am going to give you angst because... let’s face it, we love it. two and five.” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove​

#2: “Close the door.”

#5: “Why are you helping me?” from dialogue prompts

warning(s): swearing

a/n: takes place in California, starting as Billy being a dickish 15 y/o. it goes on from there, you’ll know when there’s a little time skip. enjoy:)

—

“Jesus, what’s it gonna take to get you to stop squirming?”

“You are about to stick a needle in my ear, I think I’m allowed to be a little nervous. Won’tchu just cut me some slack, alright?” Billy snaps back at you, no doubt getting wound up because of the risk he’s taking doing this.

Billy has his arms tightly grasped around a throw pillow he stole from the couch, bracing himself for the upcoming pain of doom. His eyes have been squeezed shut as you take the melting ice cube between your fingers and delicately hold it up behind his earlobe. You’ve yet to even puncture him with the needle and he’s already sweating buckets. The teenage boy had asked you to hurry up and get it over with three times already, not even helping you out the slightest bit by staying still while bossing you around either. Typically, your role being the ‘smart one’ in your long lasting friendship would assign you the task of talking him out of wanting to do a foolish thing like this. On one hand, he had plenty of safer alternatives as opposed to going to you, an amateur, for getting the accessory punched in to his ear.

This ever changing dynamic of your platonic relationship had been set aside by the boy since you two started high school this year. He stopped taking the bus with you to and from school since his temperamental father started giving him lessons on how to drive. Another petty example of pretending he didn’t even know you was saying nothing when he passed by you in the halls, or stopped ringing you late at night when he needed help studying or just to talk. Other small things had added up to you barely hearing from him unless he wanted something from you; in this case, a free piercing job. It was hard to deny, but you’d refused to confess how your heart jumped at the opportunity of spending an evening with him again just like old times.

Unsurprisingly, the teenage boy didn’t bother making small talk about his day or giving you virtually any clue about the trouble he had been up to during these recent weeks ghosting you. Of course Billy didn’t care much for what you had to say either, he only wanted one thing and one thing only.

“Stop being a brat for five seconds, then I’ll cut you some slack,” you bite back. He’d rolled his eyes then gasped harshly at the sight of you picking up the freshly cleaned and heated needle from the coffee table. “Want me to count to three or surprise you?”

“Uh, surprise me.”

“Kay. What is this even for, anyway? Last I checked this one’s the gay ear,” you snort, watching him freeze up and widen his anxious blue eyes.

“Wait, WHAT!” he howled in a panic, giving you the perfect opportunity to stick the sharp end right through the lobe, watching him cringe and practically catch flies with his wide open mouth. “Ow, fuck!”

“You told me you wanted it to be a surprise,” you smugly point out, wiping your hands on a napkin after finishing the favor. He sends you a glare at your trickery before getting up and going to the mirror that hangs in your living room.

“Hell yeah. Not too shabby, Y/N. Thanks,” he smirks at his reflection, scoping out the brand new element to his ‘cool guy’ image. Not taking his eyes off his appearance, the boy continues fiddling with his hair and turning his head at different angles to inspect the fresh hole in his lobe. You’ve sat back and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes so far back at his disgusting vanity. He might as well be humping and kissing the mirror right in your own damn house. After getting noticed by all of the popular pretty girls and patted on the back by all the designated cool guys, he thinks his dick grew over ten feet in size or something, and you’ve been downgraded on his list of priorities.

Being the best of buds since elementary school, Billy’s had your back along every step of the way growing up. You’d write all the answers to tests on his forearm for him, he’d keep all the bullies away from you. Each of you would take turns sharing lunch every week. His favorite thing to gobble up at any given chance was your squeezable applesauce, and your favorite snack coming from his lunchbox was always string cheese. There was barely ever a moment you’d be seen without each other.

Middle school went by in a flash of painful and awkward moments, but despite all the friends he made in Little League Baseball, he for some reason still stuck around with you. Maybe you couldn’t do the same sleepovers like you used to as pre-pubescent children, but he’d still give you your favorite string cheese and hugged you tight whenever you wore a frown.

Now, both in your freshman year of high school, things weren’t as easily labeled as black or white. There were cliques and expectations that Billy abided by, and you just didn’t fit in with any of that. Instead of letting you down easy, it was more of a hurtful shock the day he decided to ditch you at lunch for the girls that had been eyeballing him during gym class. Now, not only did he try his best to bury your friendship somewhere deep and never touch it again, you’d went great lengths to avoid any confrontation with him or his posse.

That all just went to shit for the first time today, when he approached you about said earring. You didn’t know how to say no, and you weren’t sure you could if you tried.

“Okay, Kiefer Sutherland, you got what you asked. Why the hell would you want some douchey hanging earring anyway? That a new trend or somethin’ I don’t know about?” you ask, not hiding your judgement the slightest bit. He throws his denim jacket over his bare shoulder exposed from the muscle tee he’d been wearing, then gives you a cheeky grin before answering.

“Sammy Anderson from bio said it’d look good on me. You know her, brunette with the legs. She thinks it’s pretty gnarly,” he nods his head back and forth, sucking his bottom lip with his teeth before not long after snapping out of whatever daze he had been in.

“Since when did you even give a shit what people thought looked good on you?”

“Since they started actually telling me,” he shrugs, not caring how pathetic it may be that he went through all this trouble just for one off-hand comment some girl from class made. You hide your scoff with a forced laugh, walking passed him and bumping shoulders on your way to the kitchen. Billy furrows his brows at your attitude and the diss, following you to where you’ve been preparing a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios for yourself.

“‘S the matter with you, huh? I thought you wanted to hang out again,” he asks, confused by the conflicting mixed signals you’d been sending. You chomp on your Cheerios and take your time swallowing the satisfying bite before looking up at him.

“I never said that.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but who called whose house every night then turned into a jealous bummer as soon as one of them started making better friends?” he asks rhetorically, petting his chin and pretending like it’s some thought provoking question. You can’t believe the audacity he had calling you a jealous bummer when he left you for good without batting an eye at the loss of friendship. Your chair screeched as it dragged on the floor when you stood up out of it, keeping your bowl in your arms before showing him the door. You nod your head towards the exit wordlessly as Billy stubbornly stays put, not through with his point yet.

“Well, Kiefer, this bummer is asking you to leave. I got you your stupid fucking earring like I promised, and let’s hope you know how to keep it from getting infected, otherwise I’m done listening to you and your new inflated ego.” you finished, ending your speech with a slurp of the milk from your cereal bowl, waiting for him to take himself out. Billy calls it a day, shaking his head and saying more pussy accusations under his breath before making it to the door, stopping to invade your space.

“This better not be in the fuckin’ gay ear, or you’ll be hearing from me again, just so you know—“

And with that, you slammed the door in his face and locked it before sauntering back to the kitchen, carefree as you pour yourself another bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

—

Your freshman year went by without anything to really mark it as a special year. Maybe you met a few new faces, people a year above your grade that were kind enough to show you around and give you a better outlook on what high school could be. Billy only gained more and more followers, becoming the alpha dog at only fifteen years old with eighteen-year-old’s wanting to have him or be him.

With the new earring you’d pierced for him, Sammy Anderson was always seen pawing at him like an annoying house cat, and he’d put on a show most likely just for your eyes in particular. To make you envy the brunette, Billy would strut around the halls he knew you walked through like a catwalk, hoping you’d see and think he was all that. Sammy, for some reason, couldn’t pass any ninth grade classes although she was a junior, she still shared a few periods with a freshman Billy. She was shameless about riding the fifteen-year-old’s dick, and had been made aware of you being the prime target for where and when they show their public displays of affection.

You really could give a shit about the drama he put you through anymore. Yeah, it really hurt having someone you stood by a good chunk of your life leave, but there was nothing you could do about it. Other than just find your place and where you belong on the food chain of high school, which wasn’t much to brag about. You had your humble few friends that were loyal and been told about your past with Billy Hargrove. They couldn’t believe with your personality and his transformation that you’d ever been affiliated with him in the first place, and honestly you couldn’t believe it either.

Sophomore year was starting now, and it was getting to be the season for those annoying high school dances that every movie or book goes on and on about. Less than thrilled but obligated to attend, the dance was in full swing when you’d arrived in your outfit of choice. Dressing up wasn’t ideal, but you’d made somewhat of an effort trying to be presentable for the expectations that these gatherings hold. After finding your group and huddling close together, you’d excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked down the empty and eerily quiet hall to the restrooms. You had no idea what you were in for when you stepped on someone’s foot that was completely covered by the dark.

“Christ! The fuck is your problem, huh?” the all too familiar voice had shouted in anger before the sound of runny sniffling followed. He pulled the foot you had stepped on further away so that you couldn’t do it again and cursed again under his breath. Of course, it was none other than your long lost bestest friend Billy.

“Jeez, sorry. Not my fault you’re sitting in the fuckin’ darkness,” you defend yourself, still terrified by the disadvantage you have being unable to see a goddamn thing. As if God himself had been listening to your thoughts, a dim light turned on and illuminated parts of the hallway, as well as a disheveled and evidently heartbroken Billy curled up on the floor, holding onto his knees. The tux he wore had been loosened, and his hair looked like he’d ran his fingers through it one too many times out of stress. He looked like a fucked up mess.

Just as you were staring him up and down, a stuttered exhale had fallen from the boy’s lungs as his hands desperately scrubbed at his watery eyes. It didn’t take a degree in psychology or whatever the fuck else to gather what’s going on here.

You approached him cautiously, as gentle as approaching a frightened deer, knowing how deeply sensitive and guarded Billy is at all times. The walls he’d built while playing the role of California’s resident fuckboy. You’d seen him cry only a handful of times, and that was mostly when you were kids and had excuses to cry about everything. Kid cut him in line, or made fun of the design on his lunchbox. Basic things that children often cry at, but you’d remembered the one night you saw him fall apart right in front of you the night his mom had fled without a trace. All the questions Billy and even you had about her whereabouts were still unanswered, but that never got brought up again after the breakdown he’d suffered through while huddled up in your arms. The poor thing was was so confused, not even knowing if his mom had kicked the bucket or just wanted the fuck away from her husband, even if that meant leaving her son.

Point is, it was always a rollercoaster when Billy got emotional, and you just so happened to walk right into him while he was in the middle of one of his fits.

“Oh. It’s you,” the teen grumbled, obviously disappointed at you being the one to catch him having an episode in the dark hallway outside the school’s dance.

“Hey, uh... What’s going on here?”

“I’m a fucking idiot who should know better is what’s going on. That’s exactly what you wanna hear though, isn’t it?” he hisses, dark and twisted as he fails to hide the runny nose and tears spurting down his cheeks. Immedietely forgetting all the shit you both went through freshman year, you bowed down to his level and sat by where he layed dejected and despondent on the ground.

“Not exactly what I wanna hear,” you murmur, looking at him before touching his arm with apprehension. When he didn’t shoo away from your grasp, you thanked God that Billy didn’t snap at you and tell you to piss off. You’d been pleasantly surprised at that moment when instead he leaned further into your touch, covering his face with his palm as he sniffles in misery.

“I see you put a new earring in, pretty kickass. Bet the ladies love it,” you admire the cheesy new gothic pendant that dangles from his ears. Anything to get his mind off of what’s troubling him will count as a win in your book.

“What ladies, you mean Sammy Anderson? She just dumped my ass in there and started dancing with some other white trash asshole. Figures,” he takes a red and white box out of the pocket of his suit and you notice that it’s Marlboro Red cigarettes. You weren’t in the loop of what he’d been up to since starting high school, but smoking seemed to be new. He lights it up and puffs on it like a natural, like he’d been doing that his entire life, and it’s a sad picture for you to see. The snot bleeding from his nostrils hasn’t quit, and you snatch a back up tissue from your bag and hand it over without thinking twice. The broken boy looks from the tissue then back to you a couple times before taking it and blowing his nose. When he dunks it in the trash can and makes it in, you cheer him on and give a lighthearted high five. After the brief moment of silliness is over, Billy looks over to you with bewilderment in his eyes.

“Why are you helping me?”

“People grow apart all the time, Billy. It’s the most natural thing in the world. That doesn’t mean I can’t care for your well being,” you reason, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything more that you may regret in the long run.

“Uh, yeah. Guess you’re right. I care about your like... well being and stuff too,” he mumbles, taking another drag of nicotine before offering you a hit.

You shake your head and hold up your hand.

“No thanks. I came here to use the restroom is all,” you move to get up from the floor before Billy is quick to join you.

“Yeah, go ahead. Just one thing real quick, I wanted to say sorry. All the shit I pulled last year wasn’t cool at all. But I’m always here for you too, yeah?” he confirms, gazing into your eyes making you freeze on the spot.

“It’s alright. I’m about to piss myself right now though, so I’m gonna go,” you chuckle, pointing towards the ladies restroom. The boy is quick to laugh with you, urging you to do your business.

“Wait, Y/N,” he calls out, standing at the end of the hall by the entrance to where the dance is still being held.

“Yeah?” you shout back, bladder close to giving out as you stand by to watch Billy fumble from the end of the hall before hushing:

“You look really beautiful tonight. Whoever you’re with is lucky as hell.”

—

Junior year comes, and you and Billy haven’t properly spoken since the dance when you’d caught him crying in the dark and accidently stepped on his foot.

He hadn’t calmed down on his ruthless antics, but they’re not directed towards antagonizing you, so that’s a plus. You had accepted that he just wasn’t apart of the path you’d been on and you weren’t apart of his. How the circle of life goes, or whatever.

Billy had found himself yet another new beau, Ashley something, her last name had escaped your mind. He’d still been just as obnoxious with his frequent PDA tendencies at school and elsewhere. You had shared a class with her last year, so you know at least this time she’s his age, but you don’t know anything deeper than that. He wouldn’t ignore you when you passed by each other in the halls, giving you a pointed look and a little wave, which you returned every time. Unbeknownst to you, his group that ruled the whole school always wondered how the hell he even knew you and why he’d never forgot to acknowledge you if he saw you anywhere. The blomde would just tell them to keep their fucking noses from his business and never mess with you or any of your friends.

On this night, for the first time in three years, Billy had invited you to come over, insisting actually. Over the phone he made it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He chewed on his fingernails while anxiously chainsmoking, his leg tapping up and down so fast it might as well fall off. He’d been waiting for your arrival the last fifteen minutes, counting the minutes and even the seconds until you finally show up. It was a hasty knock on his bedroom door that made the boy throw himself out of the chair he’d been seated in and take a deep breath. Temporarily setting his smoke down on the window sill, he raised his voice when telling you to come in.

You’d opened the door and walked in like you’d never been here before. It was difficult for Billy to see, remembering all the days you used to come in and make yourself at home in his room. All the toy cars and dinosaurs he’d collected had disappeared, now replaced with various colognes and mountains of hair gel, as well as more jewelry strung around every surface. You were astonished seeing a set up of heavy weights in the corner too, but you’d neglected to notice him grow bigger and bulkier as he matured.

“Close the door,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as your eyes got bigger at the serious tone the boy had used. You softly shut it all the way, unsure about what it is Billy wanted from you this time.

“So uh, you want me to pierce anything else? A nipple maybe?” you joke, trying to ease the unbearable tension that’s making the bedroom seem claustrophobic and stuffy. Billy doesn’t laugh, feeding more into the uneasy feeling stirring in your gut and instead sits on the edge of his bed and pats right next to him, signaling for you to take a seat. You swallow audibly before doing as you were told, crossing your arms and legs on the firm mattress, thinking it’ll somehow soothe how frightened you are of whatever he’s about to tell you.

“You want one?” he offers you another one of his Marlboro’s, this time a blue pack as opposed to the red’s he smoked at the school dance.

“No. I told you I didn’t smoke,” you remind him, which he nods in understanding.

“You don’t mind if I smoke in here though, do you?“

“Fucking A, just tell me what this is all about, Billy! You invite me over for the first time in years and you’re acting real fucking weird, so if you would just... just spit it out already—“

“I’m moving outta California.”

You pause, needing to get a better grip on your rapid beating heart that’s going as fast a drum solo from some rock band tune. Billy stares at you intently, waiting to see what your reaction will be like. When he receives nothing but a gawking expression still smothered on your face, he goes on to give you more details of his departure from California.

“I’m uh, I’m leaving. Overheard my old man talking on the phone, we’ll all be outta here by the end of the month. He wasn’t even planning on telling me until the day of,” Billy explains, his lip trembling up and down at the thought of leaving everything, his home, and especially you behind.

“W-Where?” you choke out, not knowing what the fuck to even say besides spouting the endless questions swarming your mind. Billy looks at you and copies what you did the night of the school dance when he was the one in pain, touching your arm and wrapping it with his palm. He rubs his thumb in circles there for a bit.

“Some shithole town in Indiana,” he answers before going on to the reason why he had invited you here other than just giving you the news. “I um, I wanna ask you to do something,” he stutters, one dramatic tear dropping down a cheek from his right eye as he holds your arm tight as if you’ll flee away if he ever let go.

“Sure, Bill. I’ll do anything,” your hand reaches to cup his cheek to comfort him, learning that touching him when he’s in distress always helps more than it hurts.

“Come with me, please,” he invokes, leaning further into your touch as the bridge he’s spent years building keeping everybody out shatters, leaving him wipe open and terrified of being left alone. Starting all over again his senior year in some dried up small town, without his childhood best friend roaming the same halls as he will. “I’m serious. You’ll... we can do it together. Just like old times, right?” he asks, pulling what looks to be your infamous favorite snack, a cheese stick from his back pocket and handing it over to you, hope in his eyes.

“Are you fucking insane?” you withdrawal from him, not taking the stick of cheese and waiting for the punchline of some sick joke he’s pulling. Billy cannot possibly be serious, his only bribe for you to come with him being some snack he used to give you as a kid. He had the balls to think he could perfectly replace your family and your friends just for his own selfish needs and a stick of cheese.

“No. Right now I’m sure as shit making way more sense that I ever have in the past three goddamn years, Y/N. I fucking love you, and the thought of being away from you is making me fucking sick,” the boy grimaces, wishing he could pull you close to him again but the chance of getting your permission isn’t likely.

“You.... what?”

“I know. But you love me too, I can see that you do.”

“Dude, your shroom dealer is amazing. Wanna hook me up sometime, or—“

“Stop fucking around and be straight with me, okay! There’s no way in hell any of this was friendly from the start, you don’t cheer up your cryin’ ex-best friend on the floor just because you’re some goddamn saint. You did it because that’s love, alright?” he stands up, pointing his finger at you as tears stream freely out of his broken blue eyes.

“This is a joke, right? I gotta be dreaming or something,” you squeeze your eyes shut and try pinching your arm in an attempt to wake up from alternate reality you’re helplessly trapped in. Billy gets down on his knees and grasps both your wrists in his heads, staring at you dead in the eye.

“Sammy Anderson didn’t mean fucking jack to me, okay. Same goes with Ashley, too. You’re it for me. Don’t you understand?”

“No, I don’t. You aren’t supposed to ditch who you love just to chase some tail! You left me, only coming to me if you needed something from me; now you want me to take some big leap of faith for you? After all you’ve done?”

Billy hangs his head in his hands in agony before pacing around the perimeter or his room back and forth. He doesn’t know what else to say, so logic has officially left the building. Now he’s receded to throwing up all his deep secrets hoping it’ll have some affect on you or make you do something, anything.

“Y’know, when I lost my virginity to Sammy in the chick’s bathroom at school... I thought of you the entire time. She didn’t even fuckin’ blink twice after I said your name instead a’ hers, she just kept going—“

You plug your ears, desperate to tune out the boy’s filthy story telling, throwing his own pillow at him to get him to knock it off. He catches it with a stealthy hand, keeping his grip on it as he listens to you whine and moan.

“Aw, c’mon man! we could’ve easily kept discussing this without any of your dirty—“

“Stop it. Stop stalling and give me an answer right here, right now. Tell me if you love me too.”

You scrape your scalp, dreading having this painful conversation, dreading giving him the ugly truth. Once upon a time if he would’ve done this sooner, your answer would’ve been different.

“I... I just can’t keep this up, Billy. I can’t do it anymore. I gave so many parts of myself up for you, but it’s too late now. I won’t throw everything I have here away just so you can use me when I’m convenient, alright? Fucking...” you look up, watching as your childhood best friend crumbles to the floor and hugs the pillow to his chest, eerily similar to the time you pierced his ear for him in the ninth grade. You swiftly sit up off of the bed, going down to his level again, just like the night of the school dance. Getting ready to give him more soothing, encouraging words, something like ‘it’ll be alright’ or a promise of visiting him in the near future, all of that gets ripped away from you when he makes his next move.

Without any warning whatsoever, Billy takes your jaw and smashes his lips to yours, forcefully pressing you further into him. The pillow he’d been clutching had fallen to the ground between the two of you.

This was the last fucking straw, and you’re exhausted to shit now.

You shove him off of you with a hundred percent of your power, wiping his saliva from your mouth with disgust and backing up to the other end of the bedroom, as far away as possible from the weeping boy.

“Stay the fuck off me. And have fun in Indiana, I’m sure you’ll be missed by all your fans at school.”

—

Billy is equally as antsy as he is pissed off when the Hargrove family makes their way to the airport, the boy staring out the window with a permanent worried look in his eye at how he left things with Y/N.

As he boards the plane, giving his younger step sibling Maxine a death glare for the window seat, he holds his gaze out the little window at the clouds surrounding the wing of the plane. When they land in Hawkins, Indiana, he’s still filled to the brim with regret at everything he’d done. He thinks of all the what if’s, like what if he hadn’t cared so much about his reputation, what if he’d kissed you sooner, what if, what if, what fucking if. The list goes on.

“People grow apart all the time, Billy. It’s the most natural thing in the world. That doesn’t mean I can’t care for your well being.”

He’ll hate himself for along time after using you, ignoring you, and ultimately abandoning you at the beginning of the hell that is high school. But that’s just the way it goes for guys like Billy. It could’ve gone the other way, too, such as following him to Indiana and loving him back after all. But that version’s just a figment of his imagination.

—

and then they all lived happily ever after and stuff. what I was trying to pull off was showing a meaningful friendship that started dying out and Billy’s transformation to douchebag was the perfect pitch for it. then for the tables to turn on who wants to be with who in the end was also what I wanted. I’m still working on more prompts and requests and stuff as usual ! thank you for everything:)

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

warning: this a fucking LONG post. if you plan on reading it all, godspeed.

i typed all of this as it was happening on stream so this gets progressively less coherent as i grow more sleep deprived. prepare yourselves. i may or may not go off topic at some points

larry vehemently vomiting pure malic acid. we’re off to a great start

what the fuck the soggy ass popcorn in that ranch jesus christ

lindsay in the song from AH the musical. i love her so much

jeremy going YAAAAAAY after someone eats a cursed oreo

matt getting AGGRESSIVELY kissed by larry

“this kiss this kiss” before geoff and jack kiss

geoff “i’m from alabama” ramsey

THIS FUCKING RANCH SEGMENT HAS ME GAGGING

jeremy “the alcohol demon the whiskey goblin” dooley

alfredo “you wont believe what the white people did today” diaz

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS GET THAT DICK ESSENCE

wait why does it sound like wonderwall

they look like characters from the matrix

the speaking parts. make my teeth hurt

in conclusion: they weren’t kidding abt the tight pants 

okay everyone get ready for eric soundboard spamming YEAH BABEY

“hi i’m from broadcast and i don’t want to be here” they represent themselves well

also, let’s take a second to appreciate broadcast here!! they have a really tough job and don’t get a ton of credit. lots of love to all of broadcast!!! you guys are awesome

i am: foreseeing problems with this eric sound board

which one is eric?? will the real eric please stand up?? was the real eric the one we found along the way??

“i’m... just really worried that i won’t ever find love-” “i really don’t care”

WHY DO THEY HAVE THAT ON THE SOUNDBOARD (what does that apply to? whatever it is you’re thinking of, but mostly “daddy wants some”)

ooh someone’s about to get a fReE tongue piercing from a pineapple

god dammit i went to the bathroom for thirty seconds and now they’re eating chad’s chest hair

owie the shock collar and belly slap look painful, but drinking natty light from a shoe? that’s a true punishment

“and this roast was brought to you by meundies”

ah yes what better way is there to end a segment than people throwing up

“man action” oh no

THROBERT MULVEINY

K A R B is blind in T W O of her eyes

“my last name is cottagecheese”

I HAVE A PIECE OF METAL SHOVED UP MY A S S 

chris has somehow managed to lose 23 years of age and roughly 412 pounds

“just open throat like baby bird” who the fuck is writing this and why is it jeremy

jon. jon you’re breathing in adam’s ass fumes

a summary of this segment: ass and cottage cheese

BARB IS HERE I REPEAT BARB IS HERE

“to fitness” -starts choking-

final fitness coach: tad, here to workout your issues so they can beat you into submission

“will you buy my wet” well i don’t see that on the raffle items

we’re back folks & i’m loving this walk around segment

moonball wall and gavin&michael will soon be reunited can we get an F in the chat

jeremy getting a borderlands tattoo is very on brand

what’s extra life without a little satan

“starvation army, putting lead back into paint, increasing childhood obesity” people in chat: TAKE MY MONEY

chris “i’m doing a different hole” demarais

ah yes. the game we all play in hell: twister

nobody edit chris getting mustard shot down his throat. i’m scarred enough from the original clip

oh fuck. oh god. the mayo. oh god what the fuck is up with the misuse of condiments this year

this just in: a human soul costs roughly $12,700

D̷̯͑̆̈́͝Õ̸̲͎̥̬͈̬̙͕̲G̸̢̧̠͉͚̙̲̙̓̔̀̇S̷̥̀́͆̈́̇̀ ̶̣̞̗͚̬̭̖̦͇̈́̎̈́̿̓̈́͆̒̋D̷̙̟̩̫͉̺̐̊̚Ö̶̥́̋́̓ͅĜ̵̞̌͋̏̉̌̕͝͝S̵̤̹̣̫̮̻͛̍̑̕͝͝ ̷̧̨̞̙̥̟̜͍̉̍̑̏̇̀̾D̴̻̮̩̯͓͉̖͎̘͐̒͋̓̉͝ͅỎ̶̰͓̳̥͑̅͛͊̒͐͊͘̚G̵̩̻̦̥̠̃̔Ş̶̹͚̩̱͖̀͆͘ ̸̢̢͇̻͔̗̺̼͖̱̏̾̔̚D̴̨̨̫̙̃̾̋̾̆̓̓Ớ̷̡͓͎͊G̶̱̣̣̰̝̖̰̗̓͐̐̊͋̀͊̀̕͝Ş̷̩̺̬̖͙̺̟͗̈́͒͗̀̑́́̕͠ ̷̡͈̼̲͈̳̫̺̝̈́̋͌͗̒ͅD̸̨̬̞̪̗̘̄̑͆̿̈́͘͠͝O̸̡̡͇͕̻͎͍͉̅̌͗̄͌̑̉̔͂̎Ḡ̸͙̟̪̞̬̬͕͐̈̏S̶̝̪̼̮̠̜̭̳͖̘̑

urine: to help with aerodynamics

jon: maya, speak! maya: *the smallest arwoo*

today’s mvp: any dog. pick one. no matter which you pick, you’re right

how the fuck did blaine change back from satan so quickly

barb as a cat is... my new sleep paralysis demon

blaine: barbara speak! barbara: climate change is real

#dogsforkids

this just in: extra life killed my wifi

we’re back & kdin is in the business of killing people with spice. she is the spice queen

queue six thousand well-timed 1337 donations

HOLY SHIT THAT’S COLIN FROM WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY

hmm “questionable liquids” is very... questionable

trevor: oh there’s four of them! we all get to join in the Fuckkkk

“what’s your favorite kind of candy” “any meat”

i like pickles and i would rather rip my eyebrows off than drink the juice so i feel for trevor

the only thing worse than drinking apple cider vinegar is shooting it out of your nose

“can you feel the love tonight” “i used to and that’s the problem”

“flubs every word man” damn, really missed the chance to say captain hair

jeremy not being able to intentionally flub his words is so fucking funny

OK BOOMER 

wow i can feel my blood pressure spike just watching these shots

Xavier Woods is here and he wants to know if it’s Christmas

miles doesn’t know what a question is

WHERE’S YOUR HAIR

oh no. oh no helping hands is next. everyone clear a splash zone

CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

miles bossing around chef mike is priceless

“you leave that fucking dough on the floor”

“you wanna slam your hands down on the table” *pizza sauce goes flying everywhere*

HOEDOWN HOEDOWN HOEDOWN jesus why do i keep doing that

“If Colin Mochrie is listening, I’ll see you here next year” OH FUCK YEAH

--- this is when i take a break so my soul can return to my body (aka i have work to turn in. college will never not be a pain in my ass) ---

oh god dammit i missed all of Always Open. fuck college who needs a medical degree

so... we have some very interesting things happening in family feud and i’m not sure if i like any of them

hmm. is now the time to get drunk

oily twist feels very... ominous

what do you mean you don’t remember gandalf having a taser in lord of the rings?

someone in the chat said “big stupid sleeping thing is what my parents called me in high school”

i think i’m blacking out what’s going on i don’t remember the past two hours

ah yes. voldemort and snape having a talk show together sounds exactly like something J.K. Rowling would make a spinoff book or show or porno of

can we just talk about how much shit chris has been doing this year? what a guy. what a dude

“coldy with voldy” actually means getting knocked the fuck out cold because you only got three hours of sleep last night and you don’t want to miss chef mike and lindsay cooking

this snape poem is summarized by one phrase: “that was terrible sit the fuck down” (sorry chris)

“let’s destroy a weasley” enter chad

fucking called it

“you smell poor” i need a caffeine drip

heh the wheel spins are at 69 heh nice

i’m a grown ass woman

welcome to a section called: we torture chad for your entertainment

“who wants us to kill weasley?” *massive cheers from the audience*

“wait weasley step away from the wideshot so i can masturbate to this later”

“i’m not gonna rub my eye mom”

oh they’re really gonna kill chad on stream huh

i felt that chest slap in my soul

i think i felt my own ribs crack

oh fucking

tumblr deleted my thoughts on the fanfic section

alright. fine. brief summary: my teeth are burning

my mom lindsay is on next and i’m so excited but i’m nearing the point of loopiness so things will go downhill dramatically from here

this is my fucking fourth extra life, you would think i’d be smart enough to sleep the night before

LINDSAY LINDSAY LINDSAY THAT’S MY MOM

JEREMY JEREMY JERE- wait a second... did jeremy get taller

oH CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

i hope Xavier comes back next year because he’s funny as fuck

m y a t t

oh god the mcdonald’s shade i’m rolling

lindsay “who’s the chef here” jones

chef mike mentioned mayo and i involuntarily gagged

chef mike clowning the big mac. i’m crying

he made the right choice with ryan bc i’ve seen his cooking stream(s) and it’s nothing if not great content

i heARD A MICHAEL JONES

“lindsay you haven’t done anything but warm up cookies so far” “yeah and?? you’re welcome”

you know that classic snack. slightly warm oreos

JEREMY THE LIQUOR GOBLIN DOOLEY IS BACK

oh god him screeching across set is making me cry laughing

why does it remind me of trevor’s voice cracks in the one minecraft ep where they’re singing the lion king

the biggest spoon for the smallest shot glass

i just realized we’re not even halfway through yet and i’m scared for the length of this list i’m gonna end up falling asleep involuntarily at some point

lindsay no your teeth are going to errode from that shot in your mouth

well timed leet donation #1829495

this gorden ramsey bit is so fucking good

jack: what do you think of the arugala? matt: i don’t even know what you said

iT’s NoT jUsT tWo CoOkIeS miCHeAL

jeremy and michael just chillin amidst the choas is exactly my demeanor at any party i’ve ever been to

lindsay scores: ryan = 7 because diet coke, matt = still eating lindsay’s meal so it’s a 10, xavier = also still eating it so it’s an 8. total: 25

“deep fry everything but a remote control”

chef mike scores: ryan = 9 for no death, matt = greens are present, words were said, score is 8. xavier = Gourmet Mcdonald’s, food is edible, score is 8. total: 25

oh fuck it’s a tie

now they fight to the death. death = doing as many shots as possible

i think we’re all going to need liver transplants after tonight

no jesus please don’t vomit oh goD oh fUc k please- oh thank god

okay i’m making a part two this is too much

[dancing-crystals]

I caved and bought K.D. Edwards The Hanged Man (sequel to The Last Sun that I posted about earlier). Wonderful book, I highly recommend it. 

Brand is my favorite. He’s violent, rude, blunt, controlling, ruthless, and loves Rune so much (and Rune loves him right back). The two of them have a psychic bond, talk about feelings in spite of claiming to hate talking about feelings, and still manage to be complete dumbasses who work themselves up over their doubts instead of just saying something.

Again, lots of potential triggers in this book. Violence and death (”wholesale slaughter” comes to mind) and the villain is a sexual predator who preys on adolescents (as well as being sadistic murderer who enjoys terrorizing his victims before killing them). The book also has children being injured and endangered, drug use, self-harm, animal abuse (it’s similar to the dragon in Gringotts), mind control, and sex workers and sex trade that, in the words of one of the characters “It is a place that, the deeper you walk into it, disregards any polite fiction of consent and conscious”. I personally found it less upsetting than the first book, probably because there’s no graphic sexual abuse/rape. Also, I’d read the first book so I had a better idea of what to expect.

That said, there’s so much banter and love that the story doesn’t feel dark. Dark things happen, but the story is overall hopeful. The main characters are good people (often violent, but good) who are trying to survive and protect the people they care about. Attempts at “life is not black and white”, “the best way to protect your friend is to sacrifice a stranger”, and "this is just how the world is and you are a fool to think you can change it” are quickly dismissed by the heroes. Most of the characters aren’t out to save the world, but it turns out the best way to protect the people they care about is to stop the bad guy and protect (and care about) more people. 

I’m going to share a couple favorite scenes (from both books). No spoilers and all things I found amusing or touching, but behind a cut for length.

When I straightened from picking it up, I saw that Brand was starting at my ass. I decided to feel flattered.

He said, “I know you’ve been bitching about your weight gain, but, honestly, I was wondering where it was all going. Now I see. That is one magnificent ass. But maybe you should start jogging with me.”

(This is the only one that does not have Brand or people talking about Brand)

“Does anyone have a blade to spare? It would be better if I were armed.”

It clicked. “Oh, I get it. You think this is one of them big, fancy rescues. Boy are you about to be embarrassed.”

(They are naked in a shower together. After Brand won a dick-measuring contest with Rune’s new boyfriend.)

Brand grabbed the sides of my face. He stared in my eyes and said firmly, “Rune of Sun House, I believe that you are meant for great things. I truly, truly do. Your story has barely begun. It is my honor to be along for what has been, and is, and will be one hell of a ride. So don’t leave me on the bench again. That’s all I wanted to say.” 

He gave me a rare smile, untouched by anything except pleasure, and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. Then he shoved me back to my side of the shower.

I ran my palms over my eyes. “We just covered a lot of ground, didn’t we?”

“Fucking emotions. What’s next on our to-do list?”

(Brand’s version of loving people is very rough on other people.)

“It’s one of his training exercises. He’ll make a recording of you sleeping, and then you have to practice breathing like you do when you’re asleep. That way, if you get kidnapped, you can fake being unconscious.”

“I think you’re joking,” Max said uncertainly.

“Not even a little. Wait until the final test. I won’t say that you’ll wake up half-drugged in a Warrens bazaar wearing only a loincloth, but you will.” 

(Brand has always been like this)

“Alliances are about teamwork. Do you remember when we played dodge ball when we were kids? The first thing you did was take out your own teammates before they could stab you in the back.”

(Looking at a battleship)

His gaze sharpened, somewhat hungrily. “And look at the size of those guns.”

I had an image of Brand chiseling away at bolts with a screwdriver, which only got clearer when he added, “How much do you think they weigh?”

“I am very uncomfortable with that question,” I said.

(While in an area with a strict “hand over all your weapons” policy)

Brand cleared his throat. “I may be able to help with that. I...forgot..I had some plastique on me.”

“Brandon,” Lord Tower sighed.

“I brought some accidentally as well,” Mayan said in solidarity with Brand.

(I just love “Quinn is an emotion for me”. Also, this is Rune’s boyfriend talking, and it isn’t a break-up, it’s a “I am totally cool with you and Brand being a unit” talk!) 

 “What you share with Brand? I could spend a lifetime chasing it, and it will always be decades out of my reach. How could I possibly offer something to compare to that which you’ve always known? He isn’t simply a lifelong friend. He is irrevocably linked to your very concept of safety and protection. And I can understand that, because I raised Quinn. Quinn is an emotion for me too.”

(Emotional bonding plus the set-up for a coffee shop AU!)

“What would you say if I wanted to go?

“Go?” I echoed dumbly.

“Will you allow it? If I want to move there, get to know them?”

There was still oxygen in the world. I knew that, rationally. It just felt otherwise. So I pretended I didn’t need to breathe fake oxygen to settle my fake panic because everything was fine. This was fine.

“It’d be fine,” I said slowly. “They need mercenaries in Boston, right? Or something like mercenaries? That’s a skill you can take anywhere. So...It’s your decision. To move or not.”

I’ve never felt his gaze so heavy on me. He stared at me for another few beats, then shrugged and nodded. He dropped his head and kicked at the sand with the heel of a bare foot.

“I mean,” I added, “there are other things I could do, if the mercenary thing didn’t work out for us. I could work as a barista. They have lots of barista jobs in America, right? We could find a huge loft, like all those poor young people in American sitcoms live in. We’d be fine.”

His eyes shot back to me. The tightness around them melted into a small smile.

“What?” I said.

“Idiot,” he whispered.

I sunk back into my chair and wondered why I was an idiot. And why was he so damned relieved? It’s not as if--

“Oh!” I shouted, and stabbed a finger at him. “You were asking if you could leave me.”

“Fuck off,” he said.

“No. Oh, no, you are so stupid. We are going to grow old and die together....Leave me? Move to Boston without me? Are you mental?”

[chaoticdisater]

Reading a book called the wrong side of right and trying to sympathies for the republican characters because about 75% of the characters are Republican, Pt 2

pt. 1

okay its actually just later in the day rather then a different day, but i queue all my stuff and i don’t have anything else to do and the books i like are packed away, so, here we go, i guess 

chapter four 

- why is this campain aide rude like, doesnt he have everything to gain from warming up to the daugther of the candite he is aideing the campain for? 

- tim sir why are you sulking, stupid boy, (tim is the campain aides name,) i am pretty damn sure that Kate didnt ruin her own life by desiding to leak that her father was the predianal candit, because why would she do that

- i hope we never see you again TIM you worthless piece of shit (no i also dont know why im so mad at a side charater) 

- james i kinda like you my dude, dont mess it up, DONT okay good

- kate they arent really your family, by blood the sentor is your father but, everyone else is essently a stranger, 

- kate you dont have to aploize for your parents messing up, and I like meg, I also dont know why but i do like her for right now. 

- the sentor is garbage he takes kate to a new city and dumps her on his wife and children, 

-the family dinner is so cute, 

chapter five 

- gracie!!! i want her to grow up an rebel agesnt her right wing father, 

- kates interactions with Gabe and gracie are rather cute and Meg is trying so hard, 

- i wouldnt be suprised if kate was right and they where simply taking Kate to live with meg and the twins so that she couldnt go run her mouth to the press, which it doesnt seem like she would do because shes not intrested in the fame of it all 

- i think meg has a point kate doesnt know what she is agreeing to, she doesnt know if shes strong enought to handle campaing because she wasnt raised to campaine, and what meg doesnt know is that no one is fully on Kates side, witch seems to be what she wants to have someone on her side. 

- the fact that Kates friend penny isnt a democract and isnt telling kate to get out of there kinda bothers me, 

- oh yay... she agreed.. woo, (can you read my sacrum? No? well) 

- fall out a window elliottee, i dont like you at ALL

chapter six 

- I really hate that Kate is being used like this, and i know there not much more to say then that because in red white and royal blue alex nora and june where used to help the platform but they felt more willing, like it seems like kate is doing this because she doesn't see any other option, 

- i dont like the vibes the office is giving off, and the sentors slogan is ‘the america we know’ which, also doesn't insper confidence,

- they are going to ‘brand her’ could they not have though of a better word, or phrase, wow this is just justifying my hate of Republicans, 

- i have a feeling andy lawrance (our main love intrest who we have not met yet) is only involed in scandles because of how the republicans paint him. 

chapter seven 

- oh god there grilling kate, this wont end well, 

- what if she had said yes to the girlfriend question, you fuck wads, 

- nancy litary said to kate ‘if you have a difference of opition kept it to your self’ 

- so senator is pro-choice thats... good at least hes got a hard line on immagration tho so, thats a hell Nah

- penny is an illegal immagrent (or her parents are) im calling that now because of how Kate reacted to the hard line on imagration binder

- they are picking her clothing no, NO, gross, 

- why are they taking notes on her bra size, 

- okay i kinda like louis he seems nice enought and he even said ‘im not gonna tell you what to do,’ like i know the standares are on the floor but its at least nice that he wasnt telling her off

- recap i like lou (louis) dont like anyone else the twins are cute and Meg is trying her best, 

- ha her moms a Democrat now, we respect that 

- Elliott can fall out a window on the highst story of the highset builing and live so he has to suffer with a whole body of broken bones, 

- ‘whiteboard Kate’ thats actually kinda sad like she knows she is nothing like the person the party has shaped her into, 

chapter eight 

- i am\ 71 pages in and since the book is 390 pages, that means i have 319 pages left and i hate that its that many

-awwh kate sweetheart you desever so much better then this, i know that you dont think you do but you really do, 

- they have a gag order on her also whats so wrong about giving her busy work elliott rather then making her think shes useless, give her busy work make it a story, 

- i dont like the amount of people telling kate to ‘stick it out’ it makes it seem like she cant have good judgement and i would worry about what that could do to her 

- all in all i really do feel bad for kate and meg they are both kinda thrown into this and have very little control over it all, 

- i didnt expect to get to the ‘feeling of total isloation’ point so early in this story 

chapter nine, 

- i really wanna get to chapter ten so that i can feel like i accomplish something, 

- ‘america likes girls in skirts’ no, no it doesnt, republican america does, 

- okay nancy being aplogict about the whole polling thing makes me feel a little better, 

- they planned for kate to look like she was happy in a relationship that was so new to her, and they didnt even tell her,

- i dont like how they are controling her so much i mean i get that she wouldnt be able to ride up with super short hair and black ripped skinny jeans because its not there brand but it feels so wrong

- shes a smart girl and they are moving her around like a brainless barbie doll, 

chapter ten 

- after this chapter i am watching a kids show, 

- so its the day of this press confrence that has been talked about so much in the chapters leading up to this one but i simply dont care about

- kate is pretty paranoied at this point because everyone in this book is opriating with an atrive motive so she has the right to be 

- woo the presdanint is coming now 

- elliottee is an asshole you dont tell someone you barly know to shut up and look pretty god i hope he gets punched, 

- god i hate all potlitons they are all SNAKES

- anyways the sentor give a speech and we move on with our life, 

- kate speaks up yay,if elliotte says something i will 

i am done for tonight folks join me next time 

Next part

[yehet-me-up]

The Play’s The Thing

Pairing: Jongin x reader

Genre: theater/actors!AU, friends to lovers, fluff

Rating: PG13 for language

Word Count: 2,683

Request: "I can't take making love to anyone but you" NINI SMUT FAMKS

‘Fanny! You are killing me!’

‘No man dies of love but on the stage, Mr. Crawford.’

‘You seemed almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect,’ Daniel says to you, with undue pomp and circumstance.

He carries on with the rest of his monologue, so seriously and stiffly that you want to snort. You catch Jongin’s amused look from where he stands and almost cave. For weeks he’s shown an almost supernatural ability to make you lose your ass and laugh at the most inopportune times.

But this isn’t your first rodeo; nor is it your first overly self-important acting partner, and you refuse to break character. Fanny Price would be proud indeed of your composure.

Other than Daniel’s overacting, the dress rehearsal goes off without a hitch. Tomorrow night you’ll be on stage again, this time in full costume and make-up, living your dream. The thought makes your stomach buzz with excitement. No matter how many plays you do, it never gets old.

‘I don’t know how you keep a straight face,’ a male voice says in your ear later, in the dressing room.

His breath teases the skin of your neck and you grin involuntarily. You can’t help it, no matter how professional and composed you try to be Jongin has a certain effect on you. When you turn he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder and raising a brow at you.

You turn off the lights at your dressing station and give him a wink. ‘Patience you must have, my young padawan.’

He turns off his own and folds his arms, leaning a hip on the table. ‘Want to run lines tonight?’

Your grin fades. ‘I think we’re both as ready as we’ll ever be,’ you reply quickly. Best to keep your distance from him, now that this is almost over.

Instantly you regret the words as you watch his face fall. Dammit, he looks like a sad puppy dog and all you can think about is kissing his stupidly handsome face. Therein lies the problem; if you go to the bar down the street, or to his apartment or yours, one more time and run lines with him... you might officially fall in love with him.

Which is definitely not going to happen.

‘We could just get a drink then? To celebrate opening night tomorrow?’

You sigh, caving and hating yourself for it. ‘Alright fine. But you’re buying.’

‘Deal.’ He smiles - so easily, so brightly, you wonder how on earth he’s remained so untainted by the world that joy comes so easily to him.

The walk to Mulligan’s down the street is your hell and your heaven all in one. It’s an exquisite torture to be walking down the sidewalk in NYC with such a handsome man beside you, watching the sky paint a colorful sunset

His arm is warm and strong slung casually around your waist. The way he meanders in an out of conversation with joy. Both would make it seem like you’re a couple to anyone passing by.

You sigh as he holds open the door and escorts you to the familiar booth you usually occupy in the corner. 

He even orders for you. Not in a possessive asshat way, like he knows best. But with an ease bred from the fact that he knows what you like. It should shock you, that you’d be fine with someone else taking control, but by this point you’re used to being surprised by Jongin.

‘Are you excited for tomorrow? Or nervous?’ you ask him conversationally once the drinks arrive.

He takes a drink and considers the question, his brows tugging together. ‘Hmm, mostly excited. It may only be my second official rodeo, but I think I’m ready.’

‘That’s good, I’m glad. You’ve been working your ass off. If I didn’t know you were still a rookie I’d have thought you’ve been doing this for years.’

He bows dramatically in thanks. ‘What are you most looking forward to about the opening tomorrow?’ 

‘Tomorrow I get to catch you in flagrante delicto with Jennifer Rogers and try not to laugh my ass off on stage. So that will be fun.’ You joke with him, but inside the thought makes you want to punch something.

‘Oh, come on. You know I can’t take making love to anyone but you,’ he counters with a cheesy grin.

His eyes are teasing, but they also drift down to focus on your lips briefly and you feel that frisson of heat that stirs annoyingly whenever you think about kissing him for real, off stage. 

‘Easy tiger, Fanny Price is a lady,’ you say with a hair flip. ‘The most she does on stage is kiss. Thank you very much.’

‘She does kiss two different men though,’ he says with a waggle of his brows. ‘Scandalous.’

‘Jerk.’ You laugh and throw a sugar packet at him.

He dodges it easily. ‘So. Who’s the better kisser, me or Daniel?’ 

‘Who’s the better kisser, me or Jenn?’ you counter rapidly to avoid letting him know how much you love to make out with him on stage. 

He holds up his hands in surrender. ‘Touché.’

The waitress stops by and he orders another round and some french fries.

‘You know, I saw her and that AADA prick who plays Mr. Rushworth making out in the props closet last week,’ he says conversationally.

Your eyebrows shoot up. ‘Well, at least it’s on brand, right?’

He laughs easily and takes another swig of his beer. ‘They seem happy. I’m glad for them.’

‘Kind of cliche, don’t you think? Falling in love while performing Mansfield Park,’ you say.

He runs his thumb along a deep groove in the wood of the table, his brows pulling together in thought. ‘I think it’s nice. Life imitating art and all that. Especially when it comes to love. More love is never a bad thing.’

You laugh, too loudly for the moment, and take another sip. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, his lips tugging into a lopsided grin.

‘I know, you think I’m too sentimental,’ he says, holding your gaze.

One day you’re going to sit down and figure out how the hell he gets behind your miles of armor, you think. How he undoes you and makes you more vulnerable and exposed than you’ve ever been. As if there’s something in his cologne or on his touch that makes him your truth serum. 

‘No, it’s not that at all,’ you say and swallow around the feelings rising in you. ‘I think it’s sweet that you believe in love so much.’

‘There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time,’ he says dramatically, waving an arm broadly out to his side.

‘Okay fine. I’ll give you that,’ you say pointing at him with the hand holding your beer. 

‘You must believe in it to some degree. Even the most cold hearted actress has to have a bit of a soft and sentimental interior. You have to, to do what we do.’

‘Yes, of course.’ He knows how much you hate talking about feelings, but you decide to indulge him. ‘I love my family dearly, natch. My friends. My cats. And I love acting. I’m so blessed to be doing this full time.’

You look around at the dive bar; the faded neon lights, the bikers playing pool in the corner, the waitress carrying a gigantic plate of nachos. You think about your self-described heart of stone and wonder what you’d qualify as love.

‘I love queso, no question. A damn fine cup of coffee. Walks through Central Park when it’s snowing. I love discovering an amazing musical off- off- off- Broadway and knowing it will blow up soon, but I saw it first. Still can’t say I’ve ever personally experienced the kind of love ol’ Jane was so keen on.’

He ponders that while he watches you, a question working its way around his face and you know it’s going to hit you hard when he asks.

‘What kind of love do you have for me, then? Am I on par with queso?’ 

He doesn’t say it in a smart-ass way. Nor does he say it in jest. There’s something so sincere and open in his face when he asks that your mouth falls open slightly.

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry, and in that moment you see a million ways this could play out. Your creative mind can’t help but imagine endless possibilities.

You could slide back into the guise of the whip-smart, sassy woman you’re comfortable with and tell him he’ll need to buy you more than a few beers to earn the level of queso. Then he will stop looking like every romance lead ever and you’ll put him permanently in the ‘devilishly handsome, talented, and kind, but just friends’ category and all is well.

You could tease that he’s far too delicious to be just queso; that he’s perhaps an expensive dark chocolate. With sea salt. Maybe you’ll watch him with bedroom eyes and lick your lips. Maybe he’ll invites you back to his place and you will have sex, finally. Maybe you’ll get part, but not even close to all of what you secretly want from him.

You could tell him he makes your heart sing and causes you to want all the stupid things you swore you’d never be naive enough to want from a man. 

You could tell him you love him more than New York city, damn near more than acting. You could tell him you’ve fallen head over heels for him over the past few months; that you’d even be willing to follow him back to LA when this play wraps.

But… no. He’s not some manic pixie dream boy, here to charm you out of your tough outer shell; or some hero, riding up on his white horse to save you from another night alone in your bed.

He’s just a man who couldn’t possibly want you back, who can’t know how much this question makes you long for things that will never be.

So you look down at your beer to escape the intensity of his gaze and shake your head slightly.

‘Yes, Jongin. I love you like I love queso. You’re equally as good with a beer.’ You give him a warm smile and click your bottle to his before taking a sip.

He chuckles to himself. ‘Are you going to leave me and run off with our oh-so-formal Daniel? Will I be cast aside just like Henry Crawford.’ He clutches his chest like the thought pains him.

‘Excuse me, you’re hardly Henry Crawford.’

He scoffs. ‘What, aren’t I as handsome? As impulsive? As romantic?’

‘Hmmm. Handsome, impulsive, and romantic? Yes, that’s definitely you. But a bastard and a cheat? Nah, you could ever be that.’

The joking leaves his eyes and he watches you curiously. You wonder what he sees.

‘So, you think I’m handsome then?’

You choke on a sip of beer. Shit. ‘Umm. I’m pretty sure anyone with a pulse would know you’re handsome. Aliens on Mars know it. Prehistoric fossils know it.’

He shakes his head, suddenly more serious. ‘No, but you think I’m handsome?’

The change in tone makes your heart race and you awkwardly brush your hair behind your ear. ‘Of course I do. Why does it matter though?’

He looks relieved and leans back in his chair. ‘Because I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and I just wanted to make sure you weren’t joking.’

He says it so matter of factly you struggle to accept the compliment. Surely he’s just being dramatic. ‘Ha ha, very funny.’

With a noise of frustration he grips the table and pulls his chair around so he’s sitting side by side with you. He holds your gaze and rests his hand on your knee.

With anyone else you’d be driven mad by how casual and touchy-feely he is. An arm across your shoulders at read-throughs. Nudging your feet with his when you lean against opposite couches at your place. The way he toys with the hair on the back of your neck when he thinks you’re focusing too hard.

‘I’m not kidding. I like you. A lot. You always laugh it off when I say something romantic, so I just assumed you weren’t interested in being more than friends.’

Your mouth falls open. ‘Are you fucking with me?’

He makes the damn puppy dog face again. ‘No, I’m not. I even tried to kiss you once, for real, remember? Backstage after that long night of blocking scenes last week?’

You frown and try to remember. ‘I mean... you helped me fix that necklace that was tangled. And we were standing close, but I absolutely would have remembered you trying to kiss me.’

He looks up at the ceiling and smiles, closing his eyes as if he’s asking for divine guidance. When he looks back at you he seems older, wiser, and more resolved.

‘No, I had my hand resting on your jaw and leaned in. Then you started talking incredibly fast about remembering to face center stage during my monologue and I took that as my queue you weren’t interested.’

‘Oh.’ You laugh to yourself. Has he honestly been just as into me for weeks and I didn’t see it? ‘I figured you were just being nice. You’re really interested in me?’

Once your initial confusion and surprise have passed you get back to the important point at hand. ‘But you live in LA and I live here. I’m older than you.’ 

Now that you’ve started talking it once again doesn’t feel like you can stop. ‘And I probably make more money, which bothers a lot of men. I’m a morning person and you’re a night owl. And-’

In one smooth motion he lifts his free hand to cup your face and kisses you, cutting you off. He swallows your noise of surprise and works his lips against yours in earnest, his thumb massaging the skin behind your ear.

After a beat your surprise fades and you melt into him. You’d forgotten how amazing kissing someone is when it’s for real and not on the stage. 

Then again, you’ve been kissing him for weeks as Fanny Price and he tastes just as true and wonderful as he always does. The way his hand slides up to hold your thigh, however, is definitely not something he’d ever be able to do as Mr. Crawford.

You lean forward and fist a hand in the shirt at his chest, tugging him closer. He smiles into the kiss and you feel his rumble of laughter.

When he’s not being professional as an actor he certainly kisses like he means it. On stage the kisses are prim and proper. Five seconds, timed to perfection. Smudge-proof lip stain, for both of you.

But now that you’re alone he kisses like an earthquake, steady and powerful, decimating your doubt and asking entrance into your heart.

When you pull back, what feels like a second an an eternity later simultaneously, you’re both breathing heavily. He gives you another megawatt smile and you lift your finger to stroke down his neck, in awe of him and the fact that you missed, well, all of this.

‘Does that help your concerns?’ he asked, smug and pleased.

You laugh and kiss his cheek. ‘We’ve got a lot of practical details to sort out. But for now, yes, it does.’

He nods, seemingly unable to stop smiling. ‘Good. About time, too. I’ve been flirting with you for ages.’

‘Well, loverboy. Make good use of those flirting skills and get over here and kiss me some more.’

He laughs and reaches for his wallet, looking for the waitress. When he makes eye contact with her he turns back to you and winks. ‘Let’s go to my place. I want to kiss you in a way that’s far too inappropriate for how much you hate PDA.’

You shake your head in amusement at how well he knows you. ‘Deal.’

[kariachi]

This episode, according to the summary, has my son in it. If the summary is lying, I will light things on fire.

The Monsters In Your Head

Kelly Turnbull! Always a good episode when she’s on board

Max- wants to enjoy a nice walk through the jungle, Gwen- is here on one of her conspiracy searches

Gwen I do not know how to tell you that you of all people should be less keyed up about finding aliens. Just a thought, but, consider

“Everyone knows aliens aren’t real” ~Benjamin Tennyson, 2020

Gwen: *turns Ben into Four Arms because is her cousin really this stupid* Ben: Well yeah, I mean besides me. And Kevin I guess.

“Vilgax. Those bountyhunters. High Override and that whole army-” I believe what you mean, Ben, is that aliens are real

Honestly it’s not like this isn’t something people should know about, he’s been on live news coverage doing his stuff, there’s witnesses all over the world. Even early on in the series people were referring to the Omnitrix as ‘alien tech’. Which honestly just makes this bullshit even better.

Gwen: *shoves Ben away from ‘casual’ conspiracy hunters* Ben: *falls down cliff, into cave, finds secret door*

Gwen, a good child, worried about her cousin and sorry she shoved him off a cliff

I’m getting Journey to the Center of the Earth flashbacks

Well that’s the most ominous looking cervid I’ve ever seen.

Deerdog (Ben tossed goat in, but honestly I’m not seeing it. maybe it’s the ears? but honestly it looks very mule deer to me)

The deerdog is friendly enough. It hasn’t bit Gwen at least

.....Animo. I mean we knew Animo it was in the damn summary but... Animo has been crossing critters with Kevin’s aliens. And while I love that warthog/Bootleg/Hot Shot cross with all my heart, I have to say my boy better be happily in on this Aloysius or I swear to fuck you are going in the pit with Vin!

Okay, so they’re chill right up until somebody turns them on and then suddenly they go for the jugular. What is it with Animo and this brand of trap? Just make a Godzilla like a normal person and have at

Many deerdogs

My son!!

Literally divetackles Ben out of the way of a stampede and what does he get for his troubles? A ‘get off me’. Really you boys are as bad as each other.

And to your left you’ll see Gwendolyn Tennyson, age 10, in the process of being stolen by a runaway deerdog

I’m glad they’re acknowledging that Kevin was last seen diving further into a tunnel in space and time in a fit of vengeance, even if the answer so far for how the fuck he’s back is “it’s a really long story”.

“These animals are more ornery than you are.“ “Go lick a lemon, Tennyson.“

Kevin saves Ben’s ass, then tries to abandon him to his fate when the danger has passed. He totally hates his guts. Ben, meanwhile, ain’t getting left behind fuck that noise

“-he promised he’d help me upgrade my watch, but instead he stole my dna matrix and used it to build that animal army” Okay three things, 1) how the fuck did you build a dna matrix my brilliant child?, 2) I’m beginning to think I should give reboot!Kev the Crest of Hope, with how often he’s still turning to adults for help even though it always backfires on him, 3) Oh Animo~ My dearest friend who I totally don’t have pitspace saved for~

Animo literally has a throne he makes one of his critters fly hin around on. The fuck dude, tone it back to a nine

Copycat frie- Aloysius you are already gonna die at least earn yourself a quick one!

Although the implication that the general villain population has decided that if you find one of the watchbearers you’ll eventually get the other one is amusing to me

Kevin pls

Kevin: Give me back my shit! Animo: Fuck no! Look at the shit I’m doing with it, I could’ve never dreamed-

I insist the last episode of this series include Kevin and let him say 1 bleeped swear. The child has earned it already.

The boys take advantage of Animo’s fucking slathering over his creations to transform. Kevin throws out the first hit, because of course.

Animo: Look at these creatures, so dark and brooding- Kevin: “I’ll so you dark and brooding-”

The boys fight very well together

Raise your hand if you didn’t see the critters having alien powers coming

Animo: *monologues the entire way his control over these animals works* The Boys: Why thank you

Seriously you just, need to see that whole sequence it is gold

Huh, Dark Matter is about as tall as Shockrock.

Ben takes out one collar, Kevin takes out another collar, leaving just the warthog left

Ben: Whoever takes out this one gets to punch Animo first Kevin: Please, I always get the first punch

These fucking children, I love them

1) Kevin won the first punch. 2) omg it’s a warthog/dog/Bootleg/Hot Shot cross! Puppy!

...Did that fucker straight up interfere with my boy’s watch? Because he’s cornered and he just did a thing and now shit is starting with my boy’s watch and I will upgrade you to the deluxe suite in Hell Aloysius-

He is mindcontrolling my baby. Animo is mindcontrolling my baby. I’m gonna need a new class of pit...

Also, the fucking necksnap after Animo takes control? With the glowy eyes? Dark Matter living the horror movie monster life Kevin designed him for.

Animo: “I did promise your little friend I was going to add some upgrades to his watch, didn’t !?“

If you find yourself feeling listless, or noticing an increase in the temperature of the Earth, don’t worry, that’s just me channeling the world’s rage

And Ben times out, while Kevin’s still got plenty of time, turning this into a fucking horror movie automatically

There is nothing quite so creepy as Darkmatter scuttling around on all fours with big glowy white eyes. And yes, scuttling is the only proper word for what he is doing. Add the horror music? And damn.

Scratch that! There is nothing quite so creepy as Darkmatter scuttling around on all fours, crabwalking like that kid from The Exorcist, with big glowy white eyes.

Well thank fuck the Omnitrix timed back in because Kevin had Ben trapped and I don’t wanna know what the fuck would’ve happened. I mean Dark Matter has always been proof Kevin likes his horror movies, I don’t want to find out that he’s seen like, Event Horizon or some shit like this

Armored Up Humongasaur to the rescue

Bitch do not talk shit at my boy you are already ten kinds of fucked!

I am about to take this child and hide him in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for his own safety

Humongasaur fighting a still-mindcontrolled Bashmouth and Animo at the same time. With a focus on Animo because he’s a good boy.

Ben timed out again and Kevin is still going. Just how short is the limit for armored aliens, because Kevin should be well done by now shouldn’t he? Or had he managed to expand the limit again? I mean I considered the possibility in the Weatherheads episode that he’s been trying to remove the time limit from his watch entirely...

The other Tennysons have gone full barbarian again and are here to save the day while riding Animo’s freed army. Thankfully, because Bashmouth has a hold of Ben and Animo looks like he’s gonna start swinging.

Well, Kevin’s timed out, finally. Is also impatient to kick Animo’s ass until he notices the animals doing his work for him. Very much enjoying the show.

Kevin, as they’re leaving: I should be allowed to mindcontrol the wildlife. Max: Kevin, you know first hand being controlled like that isn’t fun, do you think they enjoyed it any more than you did? Kevin: No... *engages ‘why do I have to have basic decency when all these assholes don’t’ pout*

Gwen wants to let the animals loose in the world, Max just hurries the kids towards the surface before any of them can get hurt.

Okay, but I need confirmation that Animo won’t be able to build something new to fuck with Kevin again. Also that the kid got his DNA matrix back. This shit is important to me.

11/11 my son is perfect, Dark Matter is perfect, Animo must suffer

[rogermeddowstaylorr]

New apartment - Does a best friend... (part 1)

Note: Hey there sweets! I’m happy to release a fiction written during aproximately... 2 months. It’s kind of my sweet baby, and i’m so nervous to release it! (hope it would not flop dkskdh) I have to thank a wonderful friend of mine, @rogerina-is-hotter-than-me for the correction and for reassuring me ! So i hope you will like it!

Plot: You are moving into your first apartment with Roger, your childhood best friend. The small party you’re doing that night would be cut short by someone you love...

warnings: language ? talking about sex ? but mostly... ANGST  and FLUFF! (and sorry if i’ve fucked up the timeline jdbjbfzejfe)

Your feet were for the first time walking on the used wooden floor of your brand new apartment. It was exciting and frightening. On this day of October 1971, you were alone in an undiscovered world that was London. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and the intoxicating scent of someone you knew well.

“Inauguration, tonight, of the brand new place of Y/N and Roger!” Roger said that, trying to reproduce the voices of the advertising you saw once on your old TV. He was laughing a little, and then softly suggested “Come on bub, let's go in and open all those boxes.”

You two had known eachother since a long time. Actually, since you broke your guitar, playing in your garden. On this day of summer 63, you were wearing a little checkered yellow dress and your hair was tied in a ponytail, a pale yellow bow holding it. Roger was living in the house facing yours and was staring at you, leaning in his window. You knew his existence, but you never talked to each others. So, you were playing the guitar your parent just offered you, outside, when suddenly, guys bullying you from your school showed up. They annoyed you, taking your guitar off of your hands. You stood up, and, the bigger kid pushed you in the grass, while the other was shaking your guitar. Roger was seeing it from his window, reluctant at helping you. These guys were bullying him too because of his height. It's when your guitar was clearly cut in two part that he came. With his little voice, he saved you. “Hey you! Big head! Get away from her.” he said, bravely. The guys were laughing out loud, when, suddenly, Roger jumped on them and punched them with all his strength. One of them was already out, running far away. He was small, but damn he was punching those big monkeys, as you used to named them, with strength. It's when, five minutes after this event, he helped you to stand up, that you became friends.

You were exactly the same person, though, in a girl body: inseparable stubborn friends, defending yourselves, facing lovers or bully. All dedicated to the other, at every moment. You were testing all the first things with each other, smoking, drinking, for the first time, for example. But he was ahead, being the sexy drummer of his band and by shagging first. On your side it was more complicated, but he didn't knew that. Anyway, with him, it would be the first time you had your own house. Naturally you choose him as your flatmate.

You two had opened some “vital” boxes and put the record player first, to tidy everything with music. The afternoon was long and sweaty but your house was almost finished. Roger was on the phone, ordering Chinese food, and you were watching him, sat on the floor. With his long blonde hair, falling on his shoulders and his shirt half buttoned, he was breathtaking. The metallic noise of the telephone handset brought you out of your thoughts.

“Nice that Cheryl is coming for dinner!” he was totally smiling, crouching to sat down with you. His blue eyes were looking at you. Cheryl was your friend and you set him with her, hopping that he would not cheat on her. You knew Roger, the guy who was out with three girlfriends at the same time one day, but you wanted to believe that he could maintain a healthy relation for once. “Is Brian coming too?”

“I hope! I don't want to play gooseberry again, you're gross guys!” you laughed a little.

“That was not that bad, last time!” he pushed you gently and said “admit above all that you want your boyfriend for you to inaugurate this beautiful bedroom you just set, lovey.”

“Fuck you, Taylor!” you yelled, laughing and standing up, hearing some knock on the door. When you opened it was Cheryl, wearing a beautiful and almost nonexistent red velvet dress, so much it was short. You knew she was doing everything to please Roger, but it was a little bit afflicting sometimes.

“Hi sweetheart!” Cheryl said with her nasal voice. She then came closer to you and whispered “How am I? Do you think Roger is gonna like it?” you took a look at her and sigh, widening your eyes.

“Hell yeah, he's gonna love it.” you whispered back, sarcastically. You hated when she was doing that, asking you your opinion.

You closed the door after that and came next to them, falling in the sofa already present in the apartment when you two moved in. Roger was kissing Cheryl in some way you didn't knew him capable of. You were trying to get distracted, not looking at them. It was gross, seriously. By the way he put his hands over Cheryl thighs, yeah, he as loving this dress. A sudden knock helped you to go out of this awkward situation.

“Brian!” you smiled, hugging him. “Help me, they're eating themselves already.” you made a concerned facial expression trying to get a smile on that beautiful face of his.

“I’ve got you,” he laughed and handed you the Chinese food bags. “First, the delivery boy gave me this, and second, gonna distract them.” he put a chaste peck on your lips and smiled against your mouth, crouching a little to be your height. He came in the living-room, interrupting the make out session they decided to do now.

“You're gross guys, look, I can hold me when I'm seeing my beautiful girlfriend. Huh, Rog?” He gave you a wink, laughing a little.

“That's because she's not beautiful and hot, that's all.” Roger whispered, his fingertip on Cheryl nose.

“Bastard.” you sighed at Roger, feigning pain, and then patted Brian's shoulder. “You've done your best, hon.” you kissed his cheek and laughed.

You were opening the food boxes and putting it in some plates. You knew Brian was a vegetarian, so you put extra meat for Roger. You gave them their plates and sat in Brian's lap, beginning to eat. You were smiling, giving some of your noodles to your boyfriend. Roger was pouting, and you laughed at his face. The evening was animated by music talk and jokes. You and Roger were literally fighting for the guitarist's attention.

Back in the kitchen, you put the plates into your sink and felt Brian's hands on your waist. He was smiling, kissing your neck. Fortunately, Roger was not seeing you. You turned and let your nose brush softly against his. You knew what he wanted. You loved Brian but he wasn't the one. You were so afraid. Hearing laughs in the living room, you thought that you would have some time alone for you two. He took your leg, softly bringing it to his waist and put you up on the sink sides. You were kissing tenderly, a hand in his curly hair. You see a blonde mop coming in the kitchen, and a grin grew on his lips.

“Ew! That's gross guys!” he was talking with a calm smooth voice, hoping to reproduce Brian's voice. Brian turned to face him and smiled.

“You're not good at impersonating people.” Brian's soft voice was amused but at the same time a bit annoyed. You came down the sink and took a dish towel to throw at Roger.

“Mind your own affair, Blondie!” you yelled. Roger laughed, challenging you, the cloth in his hand. You suddenly began to run after him. You two were like child, and you were chasing each other in all the apartment, cursing out loud. Brian was sitting with Cheryl, smiling at the sight of Roger jumping on the central island of your kitchen. The blonde caught you, breathless, to stop you.

“Okay! White flag! I'm Switzerland, y'know” he was breathing heavily, holding you in his arms. You were running out of puff too, nodding. You put the cloth on his face and rested against the wall, looking at his blue eyes. “Fuckin' cigarettes!” he mumbled.

You were on your bed, trying to put off your shoes. Brian was in the bathroom and the sound of pouring water was muffling Cheryl stupid laughs. You were angry at the fact that you were the one who put these two together. It was not the best idea, really. You were not feeling Cheryl. You throw one shoes to the wall next to Roger's room. You heard the drummer groan and throw something against it too, answering you. You didn't realized that the water stopped, and that Brian was watching you, a grin on his face. He was only “wearing” a towel on his waist.

“Angry at Cheryl, huh?” he smiled. “She's not the smartest girl ever, it's true, but she's kind and seems to fit with Roger.” he sat on the bed and brush your arm. You pulled back a little at the sensation. He frowned but hold on. “If Roger do not cheat on her… That's good.” Realizing that Roger did not cheated since 11 months -almost a year- amazed you. It was fucking crazy for Roger, not looking for another girl. He should really love her. You remained silent and looked at your colourful socks.

Tooking a cigarette softly, you gave one to Brian. You lighted both cigarettes, end to end and a puff of smoke went up.

“Tell me the truth, Y/N...” he paused, looking at you in the eyes. You were afraid of the next thing he would say. “You don't want me to touch you?”. Fuck.

“No, it's not that Bri...” you were shaking a little. He was so comforting and nice to you. How could you tell him that he was not the “good” person for your first time? Maybe was he, after all? You were avoiding his eyes, when suddenly he understood. He let a sigh that he was not aware he was holding.

“You're a virgin.” he said, mumbling, lost in his thoughts.

“Thanks for making it so obvious.” you tried to joke. His hands brushed softly a lock of his hair out of his face. He seemed annoyed, far away in his mind.

“Why did Roger is talking about those guys you used to see?” a little bit of disgust was in his voice. He was annoyed but tried to stay calm, as usual.

“Come on, Brian… It was to shut Rog's big mouth and avoid all of his jokes. You do not believe all this bullshit, do you?” You said, beginning to be irritated. A long and quiet pause was set between you two. To add more awkward to the moment, you both heard Cheryl moan. You closed your eyes, sighing shakily. Brian stood up, and began to get his clothes.

“What are you doing, Brian?” you stood up too, concerned.

“ 'M leaving.” he mumbled. “I've understood. You're fucking Roger!” he accentuated his name, almost yelling. You were shocked, eyes wide. Seeing you not answering he yelled suddenly “Fuck, I’m right. YOU'RE FUCKIN' IN LOVE WITH HIM AND YOU'RE FUCKING HIM BEHIND MY BACK!” All the noises from the next room stopped. “That's why you hate Cheryl.” You tried to keep Brian in your room but he was too angry. He dressed up and leaved. You were in the corridor, paralyzed.

Time goes by, you were lost in your thoughts. It’s when a blonde mop came in, without a shirt, worried that you came back to reality. You were just crying a little bit, looking at the door Brian just crossed. Roger hugged you from behind.

“I'm gonna fix it…“ he whispered softly.

You didn't believed that the loss of Brian would affect you this much. Cheryl was not here anymore -it was too awkward for her- and Roger was concerned about you. You were sleeping in his bed, looking for company. What a better company than your childhood best friend? Roger was trying to distract you. Playing you music, composing with you, playing scrabble, reading you his favourite book On The Road. You remained sad and kept your day in bed. He didn't knew exactly what happened since you wouldn’t tell him.

Month went by. Roger was trying to fix all that, to get Brian back in your arms. In fact, Brian was seeing another girl, which Roger didn't knew the identity. It was a pretty weird situation. One night, Roger opened suddenly your bedroom door. It was late and he was drunk, coming in your bed.

“Okay bub. I've find what you need. Another guy to shag.” he was a little bit bouncing, and his voice was shaking. You raised on your elbows, sleepily, and brushed his cheek with your hand, to catch his attention.

“Why are you so drunk, Rog'?” you looked anxious, looking straight ahead in his blue eyes.

“Cheryl broke up with me...” he lowered his eyes and let a tear fell down. Oh no. The next second, he was crying in your arms. “She cheated on me…!” he mumbled on your skin. You were petting his hair, pained.

“Do you know the guy…?” you asked softly, while his face was in your neck.

“Freddie, the new front man, y'know, said that he saw the man.” he was shaking more. You tightened your hug, trying to cradle him in your arms, petting his back.

“Fuck…” you cursed, “He discovered Cheryl cheated on you...” your voice was soft trying to calm the blonde. “Do you know more about it…?”

“It was in our dressing room, after the show...” he pulled back from you, softly, tears on his cheeks. “And it was with Brian.” you looked at him, breathless. Dizziness took you by surprise and you had to put both hands on your bed to hold on and not fall.

i hope you liked it!! leave a comment or reblog it to tell me your opinion! thanks a lot for reading it! 

[365daysoftododeku]

5th March 2019

Author: Kenyoda

Admin’s Note: This is the sequel to @ebonyphd‘s Candid Shoutos (Feb 19), which can be found over here! Credit to the idea goes to @crzangel, whose headcanon is over here for you to peruse through :)

________________________________________________________________

Flawless Together

“Hey! Midori-chan! What ya doing?” sang Mina as she plopped down on the couch next to him. Izuku grinned and showed her his screen. On the screen was a picture of Shouto with a completely done look on his face. It was a profile shot. He was half asleep, scowling into the mirror. His hair was an uncharacteristic mess. A fluffy cloud of white and red floating around his head. Shouto’s hair was curly like Izuku’s but his boyfriend worked hard to keep it straight and neat.

“Ooooh!!! Is that going on Insta?” cooed Hagakure as she plopped down on Midoriya’s other side. He shot a grin at the invisible girl.

“Yep! Everybody’s been doing the #flawless thing again and people have been begging for a bedhead pic. And as always I aim to please… with Shouto’s permission of course.” Izuku laughed. The girls laughed along with him. He went back to work and scheduled the posting of the picture for tomorrow morning with appropriate tags while they talked. He shut off his laptop and yawned. “Ok, I am going to bed. I’m beat.” He bid the girls goodnight and made his way to the stairs. He quietly climbed the stairs to his floor, swallowing another yawn.

He was unsurprised to find a red and white head peeking from under his bedcovers as he entered his bedroom. Izuku went through his nightly routine, careful not to wake his sleeping boyfriend. He sighed happily as he finally settled into bed next to Shouto. He gently pulled the other boy into his arms. Shouto mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over to face him, nuzzling into Izuku’s chest before slipping back into sleep. Adorable. Izuku thought fondly as he drifted off.

The next morning, Izuku woke to find sky colored eyes watching him.

“Mornin’ Shouto,” he rumbled, voice thick from sleep. Shouto pressed his lips to his. Izuku returned it with passion. They parted after a moment, settling back into bed. Shouto’s fingers drew small shapes on Izuku’s chest and he returned the favor on Shouto’s back as they both enjoyed the first few quiet moments of the day.

They finally parted when both his and Shouto’s alarms went off, snapping them from their daze. Izuku got dressed and checked that he had everything he would need for the day. He then headed for the stairs. When he opened the door to the common area, he was hit with a wave of sound. The morning was in full swing, it seemed.

“Midori!” Ashido.

“Good morning, Midoriya-chan,” Tsuyu.

“Deku-kun! Hey!” Uraraka.

“It is good to see you this morning, Midoriya-kun!” Iida. The class’s greetings washed over Izuku, warming him. It was so nice to have so many friends. Izuku greeted them with equal enthusiasm.

“Did somebody say Midoriya?” came Hagakure. She immediately rushed to him and started babbling. Izuku blinked in shock.

“Um… I didn’t catch that.” He said suddenly. She took a breath and started again,

“Have you seen the PlusInsta this morning?” Izuku shook his head.

“The morning started a little slow…” Izuku mumbled, refusing to admit to lazing about with his partner.

“Well, you done goofed, my friend!” she said dramatically as she showed him her phone. Midoriya blinked at the bright screen shoved under his nose. It was the candid_shoutos page. His scheduled post had been posted. But the counter and comments were off the charts. There even looked like a comment from the verified HeroWatch account. What the fuck happened? He thought, frantic. He took the phone and stared at the picture. What was off? He checked the tags and almost died.

#flawless #he looks like cotton candy #adorable #I love him

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shiittt!!!! Izuku screamed in his head.

“Holy hell! I—Shouto is going to kill me!” he wailed. All chatter in the common room ceased at his outburst. The silence stretched for several uncomfortable minutes.

“Why is everyone so quiet?” came Shouto’s voice suddenly. Izuku’s heart dropped to his feet. Izuku’s mind was running about in frantic circles trying to figure out how he was going to fix this. “Izuku?” Izuku leapt in the air out of shock, Shouto’s voice was right next to his ear this time. He realized that he had activated his Quirk when the back of his head collided with a painful crack against the ceiling. Izuku saw stars for a moment and then he landed on something solid. His head bounced off the floor again, and his vision faded to black.

Izuku came around with a groan. His head was throbbing gently. He sat up slowly, blinking. He was in Recovery Girl’s office—again. What had he done this time to end up here? He thought back. Izuku remembered being in the common room and Hagakure showing him something on her phone… the rest was kind of fuzzy. As he continued to glance about the room, a certain out of place color caught his attention.

Shouto was laying on the bed next to him. He appeared to be out cold. A nasty yellow bruise covered most of the left side of his face. Concern flooded his veins. What had happened to him? Before he could spiral into a bunch of hypothetical theories, Recovery Girl enter the office.

“Oh, you’re awake… I am not surprised. You almost broke poor Todoroki’s neck, so he’ll be out a little longer.” She sighed as she came over to exam him. Izuku felt his stomach roll and bile creep up his throat. He had hurt Shouto?! Why? How?

“I—did that?” he squeaked out. She nodded. Izuku went cold.

“Now, now. He will have one heck of headache and a sore neck when he wakes but he will live. I can’t scold you too much for an accident. But, please for the love of all that sacred be careful!” she tutted once she deemed that he was doing better.

“An accident?” Izuku muttered to himself. He wracked his head for any inkling of what had happened. He got nothing. Recovery Girl had moved back to her desk. A moment later, All Might entered.

“Young Midoriya. How are you feeling?” said the man as he took a seat next to the bed.

“Stupid. Awful.” Izuku gasped as tears started to fall down his face. He angrily wiped at them. But the stupid things kept coming. “Why I am crying, again, damn it?!” All Might said nothing, but he gently gathered Izuku in his arms. Izuku finally gave in and began sobbing in earnest. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“It’s alright, my boy. It was an accident. Just bad luck.” All Might assured him. Accident or no, Shouto had been hurt by enough people that should have been protecting him. Izuku had just added his name to that infamous list.

“He’s been hurt, enough… I just added to it.” Izuku murmured back, pained.

“Nonsense! The past year the two of you have been together has been the most relaxed, focused, and, dare I say, happiest I have ever seen young Todoroki.” Izuku stared at All Might, his tear soaked checks becoming even redder.

“What… how?” Izuku spluttered. The only people who should have known were their dorm mates, whom they had sworn to secrecy.

“Fear not, young Midoriya. I know that you are keeping your relationship quiet. But do you really think after all the “adventures” you and your classmates have created and stumbled upon, that we wouldn’t be keeping a closer eye on you?” teased All Might with a smile. Izuku chuckled at that. It was true. Izuku, mostly Izuku, and his classmates could be trouble magnets. So, it didn’t surprise him that the teachers were probably keeping tabs on them.

“Well, true. It still doesn’t change the fact that I—,”

“Tell me, would you beat yourself up over it, if it was an injury gained during a training exercise?” Izuku blinked. Well, he would; but not as much… training was demanding and injuries were expected. He sighed, but shook his head in answer to the question. “Then why are you beating yourself up over an accident?”

“How can you be so sure? I don’t even remember what happened!” Izuku hissed, fighting back more tears as he looked over his boyfriend’s face one more time.

“Oh…! Young Todoroki startled you and your Quirk activated. You hit the ceiling. That is probably what knocked you out cold. You landed on Young Todoroki. He took a foot to the face when you did so.” That did not make Izuku feel any better. He was close to graduating and he was still no closer to bringing his Quirk to heel.

“I should have better control of myself by now!” Izuku blurted, angry. All Might sighed.

“My boy, you have had One For All for a grand total of almost 3 years… would you expect a child with a brand new Quirk that is barely three years old to have full control of it?” All Might asked.

“No… I guess I wouldn’t. They haven’t had enough time—” Izuku paused. He really hadn’t had a lot of time with his Quirk.  He was getting better at using Full Cowl, but he still had a long way to go. “Ok, so I’m not a complete failure… but I really hate that I hurt him.”

“Of course you do! But the only thing you can do is move forward. Talk to young Todoroki and then move on.” All Might said. A shifting sound from the other bed caught Izuku’s attention. He looked back to see Shouto blinking at him.

“Izu-ow.” He groaned as he tried to sit up. He laid still again, gingerly cradling his head. Izuku was on his feet and by Shouto’s bedside in what felt like a blink of his eyes.

“Shouto! I am so sorry.” Izuku whispered thickly as he carded his hand through the bi colored hair.

“What—fuck me—happened?” Shouto grumbled as he tried to sit up again. Izuku immediately, but gently pressed Shouto back to the bed.

“Don’t move too much… you have a neck injury.” Izuku said. Shouto blinked woozily at Izuku but didn’t move. “It’s my fault. I am so sorry.”

“S’ok, ‘zuku. Love you.” Replied the other teen faintly, before slipping back into the embrace of sleep. Izuku couldn’t help the new flush that took over his face. A quiet chuckle reminded him that All Might was still in the room.

“It’s like I told you, my boy. It will be ok,” chuckled the retired hero. Izuku whined and buried his head in Shouto’s pillow.

Recovery Girl let them go the following morning. Izuku also remembered what had sparked the incident that nearly had Shouto eating Izuku’s foot. He had accidentally confessed his love of Shouto on the candid_shoutos page. The page had been going nuts for the last 72 hours or so. Everyone speculating on what the tag meant.

The speculation of who ran the page was once again a hot topic. Most people were convinced it was a classmate at this point but they never pushed too hard for an identity reveal. But now people were wondering if he was just a classmate with a crush or a stalker obsessed with Shouto. A stalker, really? Did they really think Shouto was that oblivious?

But the most concerning thing about the whole fiasco was that there were some heavy discussions surrounding potential hero couples, especially the up and coming ones like him and Todoroki being had. Izuku would pay it little mind and so would Shouto. But Izuku feared the one person that they didn’t want paying any attention to such talk, in fact would become heavily concerned:

Endeavor.

The man loved to squash anything that he felt would be a distraction to Shouto’s budding career/Enji’s pet pride project. Izuku snorted at the thought… Pride project, heh. Izuku shook off the silly thought as he continued to read through the comments and debate about his response to this whole mess. Not to mention, Shouto was still silent on what he wanted to do about the whole thing. That had him on edge. His own anxiety was flaring up at the idea that Shouto might hate all the attention and possibly break up with him over it.

Part of Izuku knew he was being ridiculous, but he was too much of an anxious person to put it aside so easily. However, fortunately or unfortunately, Shouto’s dazed confession was also weighing heavily on his mind. Izuku tried to ignore the butterflies that were constantly wanting to take flight in his stomach. Izuku was very much in love with Shouto as well. He just didn’t want to pester Shouto about what he said in Recovery Girl’s office. He didn’t want to push him away, if the boy had let it slip by mistake. So, he wasn’t communicating with Shouto like usual and Todoroki himself had been more closed off than usual.

Izuku sighed as he face planted into the couch, heart heavy. Ochaco laughed at him.

“Still moping Deku? Why don’t you just talk to Todoroki?” she asked as she poked him in the head playfully. Izuku groaned in response.

“I would love to, but in the past two days, he’s been nonexistent.” He huffed. She hummed.

“Yeah… I haven’t really seen him outside of class lately.” She replied thoughtfully. Suddenly, Izuku’s phone went off. It was a text from Mina prompting him to check the Insta. Izuku really didn’t want to, but he also knew Mina wouldn’t have bothered him if it wasn’t important. Resigned to his fate, Izuku opened it and blinked. There was a notification that a new photo had posted. ‘What?’ was his first thought. He hadn’t scheduled any posts recently because of the mayhem. Izuku froze. There was only one other person that had access to the page and that was…

He pressed the notification with a trembling finger. The phone went white for a moment as it loaded the page. Izuku’s heart jolted in his chest when the photo appeared. It was a picture of himself asleep, probably from one of their many late night study sessions. He was lying prone on his bed, his Japanese literature book laying open on his chest. But that was not the only thing in the picture. Shouto was sitting on the side of the bed, blocking Izuku’s legs. He was eyeing the camera with a bemused expression, glasses perched on his nose. All in all, it was a cute candid moment.

What had Izuku locked in place was the caption.

My boyfriend is an overachieving dork, not a stalker

#wtf people #A stalker really? #You think I would let just anybody take THAT many photos of me? #Endeavor don’t bother

A bubbly laugh started to build in the back of his throat, after a few moments, it tumbled out of his mouth like water over a cliff. He laughed and laughed. That was so like Shouto! Here Izuku was freaking out over possibly outing him and Shouto, while Shouto just wrapped up the situation with a bit of sarcasm. He truly did love his mess of a boyfriend.

“Deku, what on Earth is wrong with you?” Ochaco laughed, his laughter clearly getting to her.

“I-Shouto—that dork! I love him… I really, really do.” Izuku babbled, completely overwhelmed by his feelings. The laughter finally gave way to a calm contentedness. It felt warm, just like Shouto’s arms. Almost as if he was summoned, Shouto suddenly appeared in Izuku’s peripheral vision.

“Well, now you can tell him that in person!” she teased. She bounced to her feet, greeted Shouto cheerfully, and skipped away.

“Tell me what?” Shouto asked instead of a normal greeting. His eyes flew to meet Shouto’s head on as he sat next to him on the couch. Izuku noticed that Shouto’s body language was screaming ‘nervous’, although his voice was as steady as ever. Why is he nervous? He thought. Then he remembered the new picture. He wanted to slap himself. Shouto was probably just as nervous about this whole thing as Izuku. Neither one of them had much experience when it came to relationships. But they were willing to muddle their way through it together. Shouto had probably been avoiding Izuku for the same reason Izuku had stopped talking to Shouto.

“That… I-I love you.” Izuku squeaked out, sounding much like his younger self, a blush rapidly spreading over his cheeks. Shouto’s eyes widened and a pleased smile slipped across his face. His red hair lit at the ends with a gentle flame, while little flurries danced from his white making the strands look like icicles. Gods, why is he so adorable?! Izuku thought, heart full. He grinned back.

“I love you, too.” Shouto whispered back, voice heavy with emotion. Izuku leaned in and whispered,

“I know…” Shouto’s face turned pink. Izuku closed the gap before Shouto could question him and kissed him. Shouto purred, sending a shiver down Izuku’s spine. They spent several moments locked together, reveling in being together again. The ache of Izuku’s lungs forced him to pull away and take a deep breath. Shouto’s eyes were glazed over, a ghost of a smile still on his lips. His hair was still acting out, but thankfully hadn’t gotten any wilder.

Suddenly, struck by an idea, Izuku opened the camera app in Insta. He wrapped his unoccupied hand around Shouto’s waist, careful to avoid his hair. He looked at the camera with a roguish grin as Shouto continued to stare up at him with the same ethereal smile on his face. He took the picture, grinning at how well it turned out. Shouto finally seemed to realize his Quirk’s behavior and huffed in annoyance as he tried to put it out. Izuku just continued to smile as he tagged and posted his latest photo.

He is wild about me!

#Flawless Together #he’s mine #Endeavor f*ck off                  

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/