#anyways fuck these icy depths of hell

[awyeahitsninokunitime]

Question why is Glittering Grotto awful

[hopeforkitten]

I was inspired by the lines of playing a warlock from the game, and I really wanted to describe the psionic mind fucking from your patron. Yes, it took an unexpectedly large plot for this

Everything was going so well and fast, wasn't it? All such vile problems with illithids and maggots promised to end with a crown of divine power on your master's head. Raphael's stories and dreams have just been passed on to you, and you set off through the back streets of Baldur’s Gate to continue your journey. However, this sunny warm day was suddenly replaced by darkness and cold....

A dull blow to your head and rough palms that pull you by the arms into the alley.

Next, the cloth cloth of the bag is on you, your twisted body and the smell of dust. Gradually, he was completely blown out by the icy wind as the noises of the two loud kidnappers grew louder. They argued and grunted until your head was completely lost in space due to the chaotic shaking.

Soon the cold disappeared, the smaller bag remained on your head, and your hands were handcuffed. You were led for a long time, supported by scaly hands, through the corridors in relative silence.

The bag was abruptly ripped off your head and you were blinded by a golden light. Your eyes adjusted in a few seconds and you stared at the huge figure in front of you. The devil was sitting on the throne and you realized that it was Mephistopheles. There were removed portraits in Raphael's archive, and when they were examined, the most unsuitable for his style was found. They were similar in face, but the style of clothing, facial hair and the shape of the horns were definitely not in Raphael's preference. The portrait was engraved on the frame "Archdevil of Cania Mephistopheles, beloved father" you then winced when reading and Raphael's brief answer was enough to understand their relationship to each other.

But now he is in front of you and you swallow realizing the depth of your position in hell.

Its horns stretch upwards and then to the sides, separating like a red deer. He has a beard on his red face, and his wings hang loosely behind his back. A black robe exposes the chest and hides everything else, you wonder if there are hooves under this dark cloth.

The golden eyes sparkle at you with interest, and the face smiles like a winner.

"So you're Raphael's special interest, aren't you. Tell me how my son is doing."

He throws a brief hand gesture, leaving you at a loss. What should I tell him? Is Raphael okay?

"Em... He makes deals and conducts typical devilish business"

Your mouth dries up from such a weak potential of eloquence. You are nervous and look down at your hands, they are in iron shackles and covered with frost, your hands are pale and how strange that you do not feel cold. The desire to move them loses out to weakness, which, along with the cold, spreads from the iron on your hands.

"No, little lamb, I want to hear the answers. They say he is more active than ever, what inspires him to do this?"

Again, my head is empty, what kind of question is this anyway?

"Em... his ambitions? He's your son, what else can you expect from him. And by the way, I think he won't really like it if I say too much..."

You blurted out your thoughts as if they could change your position. Nevertheless, keeping at least something in mind seemed like hard work. The power emanating from the archdevil made you lower your head and press your neck into your shoulders.

"That's how things are... Then let's make it easier"

Mephistopheles shifted his support to one hand and looked somewhat disappointed. He lifted his wrist up and with a lazy movement of his fingers, pain pierced you. It was as if these fingers pierced your temple, and an invisible force prevented you from pulling away or indicating your pain. The last thing you see clearly is the face of the archdevil in front of you before your gaze is covered with white smoke.

Further events continued to happen without your will. You hear Mephistopheles' questions, you hear your mouth answering him, but the pain in your head makes you want only to lean back and squeeze something in your teeth.

Your head turned out to be a place of battle because you clearly felt two presences. One is seeking from Mephistopheles, and the other is protecting from your patron. The first one inexorably cut through the passages in your brain as Raphael's defense retreated further and further. It was unbearable that you couldn't even show your trembling. There was a taste of blood in your mouth, and warm trickles flowed from your nose when you felt that Raphael's presence had disappeared. Before you is the laughter of the devil, and then the sounds when you talk about the Crown of Karsus, that one of the thieves was an old guest of Raphael, about the plans of the dead trinity and about such lucky adventurers that they almost handed the crown into the hands of his son and, of course, about his plans to conquer hell.

Your story ended, and you felt that any intrusion into your head had stopped.

The haze in your eyes remained only along the contour when you were forced to look up exactly into the face of Mephistopheles.

"Tell me, little lamb, does my son love you?"

He leaned forward a little while sitting on the throne, waiting for your independent answer.

"I... I don't know

You spoke uncertainly. It was unpleasant to move your lips while droplets of blood from your nose flowed into your mouth, and you couldn't stop them with your shackled hands. You cringed, expecting another intervention in your head, but it did not come. Only the Archdevil's evil and low laughter followed.

- Of course he loves, otherwise he wouldn't have been so compliant in protecting your little head and you'd be dead. He had the opportunity to defend his plans, but he didn't do it.

He leaned back in his chair and he didn't even need to voice an order for you to be taken away, he just waved his hand towards the doors.

This time you were led through the corridors without a bag on your head, but after all you were not up to examining the interior. Soon the golden environment turned to gray and you were thrown into a prison cell. Three cold walls of iron bars and one cold wall of stone, next to other similar rooms. At first glance, they are empty, but in the next one you notice a lump of clothes, it seems bones are visible at the edges. This image of a former prisoner flashed through your mind as you leaned against the wall and slid down it powerlessly. The cold enveloped you like a blanket when you felt the air burning your lungs more and more.

It is not known how much time has passed, but someone was shaking you, there was only a warm dark spot in front of your eyes, and a hum in your ears instead of a voice. It is interrupted by a sharp pop and a flash when, instead of the cold of kania, the heat of averno pinches you.

Your vision thaws and you understand the picture. Raphael is hugging you to him in the middle of the portal room. He is on one knee when your back is on the other, and his hands are hugging your face, threatening to leave a characteristic burn on it. There are new emotions in his face-worry and regret.

"My treasure, I'm so sorry."

He's talking to you.

Someone quickly distracts his attention. His face returns to its usual expression when he barks an order in response.

Your jaw thawed only after you were loaded into a warm regenerating pool, right in your clothes so that it would not burn your cooled skin. Only your head was lying on a cushion by the pool, and Raphael was sitting next to you, holding his hand in your hair.

"I... Raphael.... he asked, and I had no choice...."

You wanted to apologize and tried to find the words, but they didn't come to you.

"Shhh... Sweet, it doesn't matter. It's not your fault."

He told you to be silent and his words thawed your soul.

It's important that you're here. It begged to jump off Raphael's tongue, but he restrained himself. He's already fallen too low today. It is unlikely that Mephistopheles really cared about his son's plans, he only wanted to harm him. And there was no better way to do it than through you, a concentration of his potential power held together by affection.

[turtlesmog]

sokka had fallen--or rather, "slipped" on icy steps, and landed in katara's medicine hut for an hour to heal a swelling ankle. zuko laughed when sokka returned back to the fire nation, telling a story that had grown to include a falling boulder and a baby.

sokka had fallen into the water. before anyone could call out "man overboard", zuko plunged into the icy depths, hell-bent on reaching sokka. later, the two young men (shivering, close to one another for warmth) argued below deck whether zuko had been "a fucking idiot" going after him. in the end, they couldn't agree, so they went to sleep angry. when the woke, the anger was gone.

sokka had fallen to the ground. and zuko followed, as sokka knocked him off balance. their weapons had long been discarded this match, so zuko landed right on sokka with a heavy grunt. for a split second, they sat there, breaths heavy. sokka took that moment to leverage his weight against zuko's and flip them over, pinning him down, a dare in his eyes, to continue the spar. (how long had sokka had freckles?) zuko yielded, and sokka let up. he rose, and offered his hand to zuko, who shakily took it.

sokka had fallen for it. zuko had mentioned his desire for a night out in the town... go to the market... see a local play. unfortunately, all the unorganized paperwork he had to sort through prevented him from such an endeavor. of course, sokka, as foolish as he was, in no time, had created an intricate yet comprehensible system for the paperwork. sokka had played right into his hands. zuko loved theatre, and loathed paperwork. the poor idiot didn't know zuko would've gone out anyway. (strangely, the trick lasted longer than he thought. sokka returned most evenings to help with paperwork)

sokka had fallen in love. zuko was sure of it. he'd seen the look in his eye years before. a certain light. he'd seen it leave after the breakup with suki. zuko was angry. he wasn't sure why, but he was. he had no right, of course. except maybe he did. because he was sokka's best friend, and they spent all their time together, they shared every dream and thought and fear with one another. so how and why was sokka keeping a secret like this from him? Of course that's why he was angry. he was happy for him, too. that light in his eyes might as well have been the sun, to zuko. but knowing sokka was in love with some girl did not make him happy. because of the secrecy of it all. (and no other reason at all)

sokka had fallen on the bed. well... maybe that fall had been encouraged by a slight push from zuko, who couldn't help but stare at every angle of sokka's body in wonder. he was perfect. the way he breathed, the groove of his abdomen meeting his hips, the way the light touched his beautiful skin. soon, he met the man's cool gaze, a gaze that returned a burning desire. sokka tugged at zuko's hands and guided him down to the bed with him, pulling him in for a deep kiss. (their nights were warm.)

sokka had fallen ill, and zuko panicked a bit more than was "cool" or "casual". he prepared a tea that he was sure would make sokka feel better. "that's really sweet", sokka said, "and very cute of you. unfortunately, this tastes like dirt. and you have a meeting. i'll be fine for an hour or two. might even get some sleep without your hovering." so zuko went to his meeting. (and worried about sokka the entire time. and when he returned, he continued worrying about sokka for days until he was better.)

sokka had fallen asleep, right in the middle of their conversation. zuko had half a mind to wake him up, just to force him to be a better listener, or impress upon him the impoliteness he was showing. but as he listened to his soft breathing, and saw the rising the falling of his chest, barely visible under the single lit candle in the room, he didn't. he let him sleep. and like a sunrise, or growing embers, a realization bloomed within zuko. "i love you", he whispered to sokka, who remained sound asleep. and the candle, and the stars, and the moon, and the fireflies all whispered it over and over. (i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you)

sokka had fallen out of favor with gran-gran after an incident of inappropriate language in her house. that's how sokka found himself scrubbing away at the laundry to make up for it. and that's how zuko found sokka mumbling some of that "incident"-adjacent language, following by insistence that he was a "grown man", and "an important political figure". zuko assured sokka that he wasn't there to help him with the laundry (he'd gotten himself into this mess). but as sokka scrubbed, the water started to warm in a way that made sokka stop his grumbling, and start singing an old work song. zuko sat alongside him, listening. this might be the reason he was supposed to be alive, he thought.

sokka had fallen into a routine with zuko that just seemed to make sense. their nights were warm (except when they weren't), and they didn't really fight (sometimes they did). the firelord and the ambassador were content and bright. even days they had to spend apart (which were sometimes weeks), they always found one another again. they would find the rhythm of one another, hearts beating in sync. as long as they kept beating, they would share the rhythm again.

sokka had fallen behind schedule. it was very unlike him, and zuko grew worried. the dancing lights in the sky only lasted so long, and he didn't want sokka to miss it. especially not tonight. he clutched the headpiece in his hand, wondering if it was suitable sokka rarely wore his hair up these days (which distracted him endlessly), so he might not even want it. but the time to dwell on that was far over, as zuko had already crafted the golden piece, and sokka came into view. he offered up a wave, and zuko was at ease. (he didn't at first see the hand-carved necklace sokka carried)

sokka had fallen upon the scene just in time. zuko hadn't even noticed the cloaked figure in the trees above him. he called out in desperation and panic just as the assassin jumped from his perch, knife in hand. zuko barely dodged out of the way, and sprang into action. between the two of them, sokka and zuko managed to restrain the attacker. as the guards detained the ozai loyalist, taking him to the dungeon, a stinging pain made itself known in zuko's shoulder, and he let out a hiss. sokka's eyes darted to the mark of blood growing on zuko's shirt. he would berate zuko for the next hour for being so careless. (he held zuko's hand while the healer stitched the cut) over the next few days, sokka wrote up a new security strategy presenting it to the council at the next meeting. "the firelord's safety was essential to the nation--to the world" he said. (his husband's safety was essential)

sokka had fallen prey to the dangerous attacks of little bumi. the toddler managed to grapple him, forcing sokka into a surrender. zuko cheered bumi on, firmly betraying his husband to curry favor with their young nephew. zuko basked in the feeling of this, and as he saw sokka in this gentle, playful light, another one of those blooming realizations hit him. when they returned him, zuko found an old file (using a very intricate system) an advisor had given him when he first declared his intention to marry sokka. he took out his quill, and studied the law proposal pertaining to his heir.

sokka had fallen head over heels for izumi as much as izumi had fallen head over heels for sokka. the second they laid eyes one another, it was over for zuko. forever the second-favorite dad, and sokka's second-favorite firebender. the little girl was clever and sharp. she took after her father in that way (the favorite one). she was also sneaky and rebellious and outspoken, taking after her father (the second-favorite). back in his days of banishment, zuko never allowed himself to dream of happiness. didn't allow himself to hope for love in this way. but even if he had, zuko didn't think he ever could have been capable of imagining happiness like this.

sokka had fallen. zuko watched it happen. one moment, he stood in complete normalcy, and the next, sokka was diving in front of zuko. and then he fell. the blood wasn't the thing that frightened zuko. it was the glaze in sokka's eyes. zuko didn't even remember killing the attacker. all he remembered was crashing to sokka's side. sokka sokka sokka sokka hey sokka sokka. you're alright. just look at me just look at me just loo--tat's it there we go good you see that? look at those pretty eyes of yours. no you can't close them, can't deprive us of that can you sokka, no you can't. hey hey hey no don't worry about it it's fine you're okay you're going to be just fine you understand you don't get to be anything else because you--

"it was good"

"what? what's that, what was good?"

"our life. us."

"...yes. it w-it is. and it's going to st--"

"shorter than we thought. than we dreamed."

"that's not--"

"but it was... good. that's what matters."

"you're going to be fine."

"you and izumi... you're my... my... and katara, and... and everyone. you... you all know. you all know, don't you? how much i love--"

"please don't"

"you know, don't you?"

"of course we know."

"it was good."

"i love you. don't go."

"it was good, zuko."

and zuko fell into despair.

into pieces. apart. he fell into a hole that he had never imagined even in his darkest times. it was wide and consuming.

he fell into oblivion. he fell beneath the waves.

all he could seem to do was fall which was funny because that's all sokka had seemed to do, too. even the first time zuko had met him, he fell. a brave boy who would protect those under his care at any cost.

he kept falling and falling and falling. revenge didn't keep him from falling. in fact, it dragged him down faster. meditation and crying and screaming and burning and talking and eating and not eating and hoping not hoping and remembering and forgetting didn't help him from falling.

each time he thought he hit the floor of this well of sorrow, it crumbled beneath him, swallowing him in further.

it was dark and his light had been stolen. his light. it was beautiful and thoughtful and stupid and perfect and clever and so selfless and it was gone.

"it was good" (he remembered)

it was gone (he insisted)

but it was good (something said)

at dinner, izumi laughed. a sound zuko hadn't heard in months.

in the distance, he could see something, the edge of the well.

"it was good" (that was true)

but it's gone (this was also true)

but despite it being gone, despite it all, one truth stood.

"it was good"

zuko received hundreds of letters from all nations--farmers and merchants and fisherman and soldiers and old men and children. every letter was a story of sokka, of the way he'd somehow helped them. zuko had thought he'd heard every story, but he somehow didn't know even half of it.

izumi had found a painting. a really bad painting of the three of them. zuko had no idea where she'd found it, but he couldn't help but let out a laugh when she showed it to him.

they found a secret compartment in sokka's desk. letters and poems and drawings and schematics and tickets and lists and ideas and journals were tucked away. izumi crawled into zuko's lap and they spend hours going through it all. as she lay asleep in his arms, he felt that blooming feeling, small and distant and quiet, but unmistakably there.

"it was good"

maybe this well could catch some light again.

[fvrxdrm]

5 Times

Pairing: Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warning(s): None

*****

4 times Leon didn't confess his love and 1 time he did.

One

It was the giggles that sailed upon your boat, the laughter, the smiles. You both saw the funny in everything and that was your bond. You could be serious too; you loved deeply of others more than what was generally accepted. So you guessed the humor was how you let out the tension that kind of love brings. In those silly moments you were perfect, and they were the sweetness you needed in rough times. That's what friends do, right? It's the love that makes doors in emotional brick walls, the love that makes everything possible.

That's what Leon always thought. It was so cordial and unique in a way that he felt like what he valued so much was somehow outlandish and alien. He couldn't distinguish what comes out of him whenever you were with him and every tingle that raises hills on his skin was a puzzle he was unable to solve.

"I'll see you around," you mumbled against his chest.

"Yep." Leon unwrapped his arms around you albeit slowly, reluctant for some reason, and smiled through his pursed lips. "I'll see you around."

He watched as you wended your way from his house and into your home, a teasing tug pulling his lips at the ghost of your own against his cheek.

Two

Under the dim lights and the colorful ornamentations, your raiment sparkled against the gleam, catching the eye of many guests, predominantly Leon. You looked like a princess wearing a headband that imitated a crown, a top and a pair of pants embellished with a winking glint that could be mistaken as diamonds from afar, and heeled leather boots that comically made you look tall. Your hair was in a loose and messy braid with a few strands hanging just beside your face and a light chain that twisted along your H/L H/C locks.

Leon was in awe, no doubt. His focus was glued to your appearance. Even when his friends were making random conversations with him, he found it unbearably hard to keep his icy blues away from you.

"You should just ask her out, you know. You've been staring at her with heart eyes the entire night," Chris spoke as he followed the trail of Leon's gaze towards you.

Leon broke away from his stupor and shook his head at the man's voice, his blood rushing towards his neck and face.

"What? No, no. You're mistaken. I-I don't like her like that."

"You sure? Last time we were drunk you were yelling about how much you love her right into my ear."

"We were drunk, Chris."

"And? What's that saying again? A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts?" Chris simpered as Leon's eyes widened in surprise.

"What? Th-that's not true!" He denied.

"Mhm, sure. Anyway, my girlfriend's probably looking for me now," the taller and bulkier man said. "At least ask her to dance."

As Chris' footsteps faded away into the beat of the music, Leon thought about what he had said.

Did he actually like her, or was it just something he was confusing himself with? Either way, you were still a treasured dear to him and whether or not his heart was romantically beating for you, he would still value you the same, although he would probably be a bit clingier if you did end up together.

For now, he'll just ask you for a dance, go with the flow, and see what happens.

Three

The night rode in on a horse of pure midnight velvet, beckoned by the stars under the glow of a full moon. As the colors of the day rested, perhaps dreamt of the morrow, the forest became its monochrome beauty, darkened greens and golds that made an ever-changing, ever-present puzzle, question and answer united.

Fire danced beside you as you and Leon laid against under the constellation of stars and talked the night away, smiling and laughing at every jest that was told.

It felt pleasant to be in his arms and he felt warmth as a wild heart beat in his bars.

"This one," you began, leading his fingers towards a raised and silvery part of your skin, "I got this when I was younger. I got stabbed by a pencil."

"A pencil?"

"Yeah. My friend and I got into a fight and it was buried, like, 3-fucking-inches inside of me. And holy shit, my teacher didn't fucking notice it while I was bleeding profusely. I was leaking hamburger helper!"

Leon busted a gut and pulled you towards him even more as he shook in laughter.

You went on and on about the most absurd things that had happen during your childhood until you lost all energy and eventually fell asleep in Leon's arms.

You looked peaceful, he thought. Your face was so serene as if nothing had really affected you in any way. The world was cruel, but you only sought for the brighter side and stood along it with your back turned to the hell it truly bore. Your lips were parted lightly, and hair just a tad bit messy from all the exaggerated movements you'd done while telling your stories and tossing your head back while laughing. A part of your skin was showing as your top rode up, and he couldn't the blush that crawled up to his face when realized his hand was rested on that patch of skin.

He smiled.

Maybe he did like you, or love you. If his admiration wasn't enough, then his heart reassured him.

Four

"Oh, fuck!"

You swam away from Leon as fast as your arms and legs could fight against the water as he chased you, muscles and quads aiding him. Compared to you, he was more skilled in this type of stuff while you had chicken legs with barely anything of assistance. So it was no surprise when he caught up to you with spider hands and wrapped his arms around your waist. He tickled your stomach, the bareness of it making the stimulation all the more patent and making you guffaw while squirming in his arms.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" You cried in between laughter. You turned around to face him when you felt his hands making a stop against the side of torso and looked at the wonders of his eyes steadily and intensely.

You didn't notice it, but Leon's breath hitched at the proximity of your faces, the hot air that flew out of your nose hitting the droplets on his face. You were in a daze. Both of you. It felt so intimate and bona fide that for a second that was your only reality.

Your fingers trailed up his chest, neck, and finally his cheek, and for a moment, your hand was still on his face with only your thumb moving to stroke the scar that was stripped away from his hair. Leon furrowed his brows. The inside of your lip was lightly bitten as you thought about your next action for a moment. But decided that fuck it, life is short. If he felt the same way than congrats! But if he didn't, well, it's either he'll pull away or kiss back with no purpose. And hey, what's the matter with making out with your best friend?

And so, you drew a bit closer, albeit rather slowly in case Leon wanted to pull away. But seeing as he was copying your motions, you saw his intention and pressed your lips against his in a shy lip-lock.

Five

Leon tugged on his tie as he looked at the people dancing around inside of the venue, his heart doing a little dance of its own when he saw you smiling with the crowd.

He blew a sigh, the breeze intertwining with the air. He could see the party from the balcony: flashes of different color schemes, the swaying of dresses as the women moved, the chattering of people as they drank the glasses of champagne. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe this was all about you and him; two souls entwined by love.

"I see you didn't invite me," a sultry and velvety voice said from beside him. He knew who it was and it didn't faze him anymore to see her appearing uninvited as she always did.

"What are you doing here, Ada?"

"What, I can't go see two of my favorite people anymore?"

"Well, it always ended in a mess, anyway, so what's the point." Ada chuckled in response and leaned back against the railing, the smile her giggling left still ghosting on her face. It was all jokes, fun, and games to her for a moment until she turned serious and gazed at you from a distance where you couldn't notice.

"Take care of each other, Leon. You both are worth more than what you give yourselves credit for," she muttered. "I wish I could've given her the life you're giving to her now. But I can't, and I'll remain like this until I die."

In the depths of her mind, Ada reminisced on the time when she was in Leon's position. She gave the love you needed and wanted, and cared for you in so many ways. But she was a mercenary, a wanted one at that, and she knew that one day, everything would be thrown into a void or burned until it turned to ashes. So, she broke what you had off and handed you to Leon where he could give you a better life.

Leon couldn't say anything. It seemed rude and odd but he remembered when you knocked on his door, drenched in rain water and sobbing everything from your chest. It hurt to see you like that. And so, he promised. He promised to be the best husband he could ever be and shower you with everything he could give you.

"Leon!" Your voice rang out as you ran towards him with a wide smile on your face, startling the both of them.

Leon turned towards where Ada stood but saw that she was gone as if she was nothing but an apparition that was made by his mind.

He was befuddled for a moment, pondering about his encounter with the woman, but found his heart racing as you came closer to him.

What transpired was long forgotten and all the world could see how Leon mimicked the smile that defined the joy you brought to him. He was just happy to share such a beautiful moment with you and he optimistically wondered about what was ahead of you.

He pulled you towards him and spun you around as he battered your face with kisses, whispering 'I love you's and so many more sweet nothings against your cheeks while you laughed in his arms.

Hidden within the shadows was the raven-haired woman, imitating their smiles as she watched the intimacy from afar. She felt like her mission was done and although it hurt, she was thankful for what she'd done. Leon was going to give you the life you deserved and he was going to fill the holes she'd left.

*****

This was rushed. Lol. And I'm using my phone. How was it tho?

This was the outfit I had in mind. Feel free to change it though.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

2.

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

3.

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

4.

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

5.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know!

[kurokoros]

silver tongue | kuroo (kinktober day 5)

Rated: M

Words: 4.9K

Pairing: villain!kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: A late night at the agency takes a turns when you run into Panther, an S rated villain.

AN: I started working on a bnha x hq crossover a while ago, and decided to base character quirks on the kanji in their names, and, well... Kuroo means “black tail” sooooo I wrote tentacle porn. You’re welcome. 

Note: Jishin is, if google translated it correctly, Japanese for “earthquake”, which has to do with Daichi’s quirk in this au.

Kinktober 2020 Day Four: Public Sex + Day Nine: Tentacles

Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving, implied at the end), public sex, manhandling, restraints, quirk play, tentacles, double penetration, teasing, overstimulation, choking, biting, dirty talk (degradation and praise)

X

Leaving Daichi’s new sidekicks squabbling in the corner of the office, you slip out the side door of the Agency, stepping into the quiet alley with a sigh. Your heels click against the ground, and you shiver as the cold night air curls around you. The light breeze tickles your bare legs and arms, your work clothes providing little coverage from the chill, unlike the warmth of the building behind you.

Closing your eyes, you lean back against the brick wall behind you, two fingers rubbing at your temple to chase away an impending headache.

As much as you’ve grown to like the pair of energetic rookies in the short time they’ve been working at the agency, you could do without their constant bickering. Especially this late at night. It was just your luck, really, drawing the short straw tonight. As Daichi’s personal assistants, it was up to either you or Kiyoko to supervise Kageyama and Hinata—fresh out of school and eager to work in the field—as they did their required paperwork. Without someone breathing down their necks, neither boy would get any of it done, and Kiyoko finally cashed in on a favor you owed her to get out of babysitting late into the night.

Not that you can blame her for that. With the amount of petty fights you’ve already had to break up tonight, you would have jumped at the opportunity to leave, too.

A muffled shout comes from the building behind you, but you ignore it. Opting to leave the arguing pair to their own devices for a few minutes. It may not be the best idea, but given the alternative, you’d rather deal with the repercussions later.

Besides, what Daichi doesn’t know won’t kill him.

You drop your hand back to your side, making yourself comfortable against the side of the building despite the rough texture of the bricks and the chilly temperature. Opening your eyes, you turn your gaze to the mouth of the alley, tucked between the agency and a café that closed hours ago. Despite the late hour, the streets are still bathed in light from the moon and the street lights.

A shadow moves in the corner of your eye. Soundless as it slinks across the ground. Graceful. It’s gone as soon as you glance to the right, and you frown, but decide not to dwell on it as you return your gaze to one of the old buildings across the street. A trick of the light, that’s all it was. Or one of the skittish stray cats you’ve caught Asahi feeding on more than one occasion. It’s late, but not late enough for anyone to be causing trouble, especially this close to such a reputable agency.

But the shadow moves again, just barely visible in the hazy space where the light from the streetlamp melds back into the darkness. It squirms again, a dark shape against the ground. This time, you’re faster, following the movement with your eyes just in time to catch something black disappearing back into an unlit part of the alley. It flickers at the edge of your vision almost tauntingly, coaxing you to follow, and your brows furrow in confusion.

Peering into the darkness where it vanished, your breath hitches when you make out the silhouette of a tall, suit-clad figure leaning against the alley wall across from you. You tense, eyes widening just the slightest as raw, icy fear grips your chest.

A pair of vibrant eyes meet yours through the shadows, and a lazy grin spreads across a handsome face. “Don’t you know it’s not smart to be at the office alone this late at night, kitten?” There’s a playful lilt to his voice, almost deceptively sweet. He shifts against the wall he’s leaning on, eyes narrowing playfully. “There might be villains around.”

The irony isn’t lost on you.

Across from you, Kuroo’s lips twitch as you stay silent. Irritated, perhaps. Or maybe this is all part of some game to him. He stares at you through the lock of messy hair falling in his face, relaxed despite how close he is to such a well-known Hero Agency. Especially one that’s been tracking him for so long.

His hands casually slip into the pockets of his slacks. “What’s wrong?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. Amusement dances in the depths of his gaze. “Cat got your tongue?”

An indignant scoff leaves the back of your throat. Cat? More like a— “Panther,” you say, purposely using his alias. It’s not a greeting—not quite, anyway. And it sounds strange on your tongue.

Kuroo’s eyes narrow into a glare. He’s always hated how his villain name sounds coming out of your mouth. Almost mockingly. Taunting him. Pressing his buttons in just the right way. You’ve never been truly afraid of him. Despite his reputation. Despite the fact that you’re quirkless. And that’s what makes this so much fun.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, before he can respond with one of the sly remarks nettled on his silver tongue. The question is breathier than you mean for it to be, a result of the intoxicating concoction of emotions swirling inside you. Shock. Confusion. Lingering fear from the split second you didn’t recognize him. And beneath that, something else.

You wet your lips, glancing at the door to your right. You can still hear Kageyama and Hinata inside. Their arguing is louder than before, but still muffled through the wall. They probably haven’t even noticed you slipped outside yet. And you doubt they will. At least, not for a while.

Kuroo follows your gaze, but otherwise doesn’t move. For a moment, he listens as well, finally hearing the tell-tale sounds of arguing from inside. Something in his expression shifts, his grin devilish. You squeeze your thighs together. “I was in the neighborhood,” he tells you nonchalantly, as if he isn’t a wanted criminal lurking outside of a building owned by one of the men intent on arresting him. Those clever eyes shift back to you. “Thought I might check on my favorite assistant.”

His tone is teasing, but you recognize the hint of genuine concern that flickers in the depths of his hazel eyes, and it makes you soften for a split second. You hate when he does that. He’s not supposed to care about you, and you’re sure as hell not supposed to care about him. But then, you aren’t supposed to be fooling around with him either.

This time, you snort, eyes rolling. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine.” Pausing, you glance at the building behind you again, wondering if you should say anything else. Kuroo must know by now that you aren’t alone. It would be impossible not to hear the amount of shouting going on inside the agency. “Kageyama and Hinata are here. We have them doing paperwork tonight. I’m babysitting.”

Kuroo’s brow furrows as he tries to connect the names to the faces he’s seen. Once he does, he narrows his eyes. “Jishin left his pretty little assistant alone with just some rookies?” he asks, using your boss’s alias mockingly. “What are a couple of kids going to do if some big, bad villain shows up and attacks the place?” Because that’s what he is, right? A big, bad villain.

What does that make you?

You choose not to take the bait. “What are you really doing here, Kuroo?” you ask him, lowering your voice even though there’s no one around to hear you. “Shouldn’t you be lying low? It’s only been a few days since you and Daichi—”

One long, black tendril shoots from his lower back. It lashes out. You cut off with a yelp as it races towards you, wrapping around both of your wrists and pinning them above your head before you can react. Gasping, you tug at the squirming limb, but it only coils around you tighter, squeezing. Like a warning. It’s cool to the touch, smooth against you, and the strange sensation makes you shudder. The tip wriggles against the inside of your arm, almost ticklish.

“I don’t want to hear his fucking name out of your mouth,” he snaps, Daichi’s name setting him off. Just like you knew it would. His eyes narrow again, his jaw clenching. The slim tentacle around your wrists tightens, and you bite your tongue to hold back an embarrassing whimper. Pulse pounding, your heart stutters in your chest when he sends you a look that makes you tremble.

Kuroo slips his hands out of his pockets as he takes a step towards you. Gravel crackles beneath his feet, loud in the otherwise quiet alleyway. Gold eyes glint beneath the dim light of the streetlamps. Predatory. Hungry. His lips curl into a smirk as he stops just in front of you, his chest nearly brushing against yours.

Your breath catches at his proximity, and his grin widens. You swallow down another soft, pitiful sound that bubbles up in your throat, but he’s close enough to notice the way your pupils dilate.

“I think you know exactly why I’m here,” he says, voice a low hiss in your ear. “So, don’t play dumb. You know better than that.”

The shadows around him squirm, something moving behind him, so dark it blends in perfectly with the murky walls of the alley. Another tendril curls out from behind his back, flickering back and forth like the tail of an irritated cat. You shiver again as it reaches for you, lashing out just like the last one. The tip of the tentacle ghosts across your cheek, caressing you. It’s a startling contrast from the rough way your hands are stretched above your head, an ache already forming in your shoulders.

The loving stroke against your cheek isn’t matched by the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Didn’t you miss me, kitten?” Though still teasing, there’s a note of blatant affection to the endearment this time. Even his eyes soften just a little, betraying his fondness for you, though it’s hidden away again just as quickly.

“No,” you huff, struggling against the binding around your wrists. It doesn’t budge, only wriggles against you tauntingly. It’s a blatant lie, and Kuroo sees right through it.

His grin twists into an exaggerated pout, but the mocking look in his eyes never dims. “Ouch.” Kuroo presses a hand to his chest, like you’ve wounded him. “You’re going to break my heart.”

You lean into the cool touch of his quirk against the side of your face. “Like you have one.”

While you mean for it to be biting, scathing, the quip comes out breathy, and it only makes him laugh. It’s dry, humorless. “Maybe I don’t,” he agrees. You can’t make out the look in his eyes. “But that’s never stopped you from letting me fuck you before.”

“Fuck you,” you say, embarrassed by the way you arch into his touch instinctively.

He clicks his tongue. “You’re being such a brat tonight. I thought you might’ve learned to behave after last time.”

The tentacle touching your cheek shifts, brushing the corner of your lips before sliding lower. You inhale sharply as it glides down the front of your throat, wriggling. The phantom sensation of those tentacles wrapping around your throat and squeezing has your thighs rubbing together. Heat pools in your lower belly, and your legs start to tremble.

You’re not subtle enough to escape his watchful eye, but Kuroo doesn’t lean in. He doesn’t reach for you—doesn’t pry your legs apart the way you want him to—he just watches you with those catlike eyes, drinking in the way you squirm under the familiar touch of his quirk. The tip of the tentacle flicks against your collarbone almost playfully.

It’s his name that falls from your pretty mouth this time—his real name, and pride swells in his chest at the needy tone of your voice. “Tetsurou,” you gasp, and his given name sounds so, so sweet coming from your mouth. Much better than his other name. “We can’t. They’re still inside. If we get caught, you’ll—” You cut off with a yelp as the tentacle slithers beneath the neckline of your shirt and yanks.

The blouse you’re wearing rips down the middle. Buttons snap from your now ruined shirt, scattering across the ground near your feet. Kuroo reaches for your waist as his tentacle traces the soft cup of your bra, starting from the outer edge and following the curve of your breast to the thin band beneath.

Kuroo quiets your half-hearted concerns. His stare follows the path of the extra limb, and you think he’s about to rip your bra as well. Anticipation makes you tremble, your heart beating faster.

The tentacle disappears from your chest, slinking back to Kuroo’s side like a loyal pet. It squirms, wriggling provocatively as it twists and curls through the air, level with his hips. The hands that slide against your waist are a welcome distraction, and the tentacle coiled around your wrists squeezes, as if reminding you that you’re still stuck, pinned against the wall and helpless against his quirk.

“If you really want to stop, just say the word.” He nuzzles against your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he speaks. You arch into him, hips rocking against the thigh that slips between both of yours. He pulls his leg away. “Out loud, kitten. I want to hear you say it.”

You gasp a needy, “Don’t.” Kuroo grins as you whimper and lean into his warm hands when they rub against your sides. “Don’t stop. Please, Tetsu, I—” Two of his fingers slip beneath your bra to pinch your nipple, and you cut off with a squeal.

“Behave and maybe I’ll let you cum.” The words are murmured against your lips. Your back arches off the wall as his lips press against yours. The kiss is harsh, all tongue and teeth, and you moan against his mouth. You struggle against the tentacle around your wrists, but it doesn’t budge. Kuroo’s teeth dig into your bottom lip until it hurts, his tongue soothing the bite when you whimper and rock your hips against his.

It’s been so long since he was able to touch you like this—weeks since he had to go into hiding—and he’s not leaving until he’s had his fun with you. Your fingers twitch, desperate to reach for him, to pull him closer, and your struggling only makes his amusement grow.

A cold touch to your leg makes you flinch, and Kuroo swallows your surprised moan as the tentacle that was idle at his side curls around your thigh. It coils around you like a snake, wrapping around you before tugging, forcing your legs apart. You rock your hips towards his, but Kuroo leans just out of your reach, and the tentacle forcibly pulls your hips back against the wall.

“Tetsu,” you say again, mewling his name this time, the sound muffled against his mouth.

His lips move to your cheek, wandering across your soft skin until he finds that special, sensitive spot just beneath the curve of your jaw. Teeth graze the delicate skin of your throat, right over your racing pulse. Eyes fluttering shut, you tilt your head back against the alley wall, letting him angle your head how he wants it.

An approving hum vibrates against you before Kuroo bites down, teeth digging in hard enough to make you wince. He soothes away the pain with a soft kiss, only to bite you again as soon as you relax, a little lower than the last. Sharp canines prick at your skin; your pulse jumps.

Your squirming and whimpering only makes him chuckle. The rough sound vibrates against the side of your throat, and he presses one last kiss to your delicate skin before pulling away.

The dark tendril wrapped around your leg sweeps back and forth lazily, the tip teasing your inner thigh with slow circles and nonsensical shapes, mimicking the movement of his fingers. It strokes you from your knee to where your skirt is bunched halfway up your thigh, flirting with the hem before dancing away.

He’s playing with you. Taunting you. Trying to get you to beg. Each fleeting touch causes the dull ache between your legs to intensify, and the way you’re pinned down and put on display for him only makes you wetter. And he knows it, too. The bastard.

Kuroo leans back suddenly, whistling as he takes in the sight of you. Chest heaving. Shirt ripped open. Bound by shadowy black tendrils that writhe against you. “Look at you,” he coos, lazy fingers wandering over your soft skin, drinking you in. Kuroo follows the line of your collarbone with the pad of his thumb.

His head cocks to the side. There’s an absolutely wicked look in his eyes when they meet yours. “What do you think that boss of yours would say if he could see you like this?” He hums, and his fingers move higher, ghosting against the front of your throat. It would be so easy for his hand to wrap around your neck and choke you, but he just strokes his thumb over the faint indents left by his teeth. He presses his thumb into your neck a little harder. Just enough to make you gasp. “Spreading your legs for a villain in some dirty, back alley. Moaning like a whore.” He chuckles when you whimper, leaning in so that his lips brush against yours when he says, “Such a naughty girl.”

The tentacle around your leg wriggles suddenly. The tip disappears under your skirt, trailing up the inside of your thigh. “But you’re going to be good for me, yeah?” he asks you, grinning at the way your head falls back against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss as the tentacle strokes you through your panties, tracing your dripping slit. It’s cold. Slick. Wrong. And you shudder as it flicks over your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

You try to swallow down the moan building in your throat, but it comes out as a high-pitched whine instead. “Tetsu,” you gasp, arching into him as the tentacle continues to play with you. His smirk widens as you try to roll your hips against the slick movement between your legs, only for his tentacles to hold you down harder.

Your fingers dig into your palms, nails biting at your skin as the stroking between your legs becomes more teasing, the tentacle lazily flicking against you. It isn’t enough to do more than tease you. Frustrated tears well in your eyes, but there’s nothing you can do but let him play his game.

He’s waiting, watching you. And you know exactly what he wants.

“Fuck, I bet you just love this, hmm?” His hand moves from your throat to your jaw. The tips of his fingers dig into your skin. “You’re so wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” His thumb brushes against your bottom lip. Mock sympathy drips from his tongue. “Oh, but I bet I know why.”

Heat pools in your lower belly as Kuroo’s head tilts to the side. A dark, twisting mass rises from behind him, and the large tentacle splits in two before your eyes, branching off as it reaches for you. One moves low, wrapping around your neglected leg. It doesn’t move to stroke you like the other, but the tip draws circles against your inner thigh. So, so gentle. The motion would be soothing, if you didn’t know exactly how dangerous they can be. Tearing through skin and bone when he wants them to.

“Could it be this?” he asks, watching as the other tendril snakes across your torso, barely brushing against you. It follows the curve of one of your breasts all the way to your neck, and the sound that falls out of your mouth when it wraps around your delicate throat is absolutely lewd. He chuckles. You recognize the look in his eyes, and it only makes you shudder harder.

The pathetic little mewling sound that falls from your mouth is all the answer he needs.

The tentacle around your neck teases one of the spots where he bit you, and the one between your legs strokes just a little bit harder. “Are you really that fucking depraved?” Kuroo asks you, sneering. “Fuck, kitten, you’re practically dripping,” the tentacle between your legs slips beneath your damp panties, “and all because you just can’t wait for me to fuck that cute cunt of yours with my quirk. Right here where anyone could walk by and see you.” You moan, because of his words or the tentacle that rubs against your clit, you aren’t sure. “I bet you’d just love that. Little slut.”

Like your shirt, your underwear is ripped down. The soaked, lacy fabric gets caught on the tentacles wrapped around your legs. Kuroo clicks his tongue, rucking up your skirt to get a better look at your slick thighs as the tentacle flicks over your clit once more. As his fingers graze your soft, inner thighs, the tendril drawing circles against you hooks around your panties and pulls. It tears, and you wince as the fabric snaps against your skin. Rough fingers slip between your legs, taking the ruined fabric from the tentacle and pocketing it. He makes sure to brush the lace against your clit as he pulls away.

Shakily, you take a deep breath, head tilting back just enough for you to meet his gaze. “You’re the one that wants to fuck me with them,” you remind him, fighting the urge to shiver as one of his tentacles strokes you directly, covering itself in your slick. “Who’s really the depraved one?”

The jab makes him grin. “So mouthy,” he murmurs again. The tentacle around your neck tightens, but doesn’t choke you. The pointed tip slides across your jaw and cheek, prodding at the corner of your mouth. It slides over your lips, but you refuse to part them. Kuroo sighs, disappointed. “I’ll have to fix that.”

Without warning, the tentacle stroking your slit shoves inside your pussy, spreading you open wide. Your lips part in a surprise squeal, but the other tentacle slips into your mouth, muffling the sound before it can tear from your throat. You moan around it, and Kuroo curses under his breath, feeling the vibrations through his quirk.

Another choked whine sounds through the empty alley, and he hushes you, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. Your hips lurch against the squirming sensation inside you, but the tentacles wrapped around your limbs hold you against the wall, forcing you to stay still as it wiggles.

“Careful, kitten,” Kuroo warns you, a smug look on his face. “You wouldn’t want Jishin’s little sidekicks to hear you moaning like a whore.” Those catlike eyes drift down your torso, locking on the thick tentacle stretching your dripping cunt. The tentacle in your mouth wiggles, pressing against your tongue and teeth. It pushes against the back of your throat, and you try not to gag. When you whimper again, Kuroo chuckles. “Or maybe you would.”

The palms of his hands land on your bare thighs, coaxing them further apart for a better view of the sloppy mess you’re making all over the tentacle between your legs. It’s a strange feeling. Smoother than his cock. Colder. It moves erratically, squirming inside you rather than thrusting. The tapered tip finds your sweet spot, rubbing and prodding until your hips jerk and you start to squirm again.

Around your left leg, the other tentacle holding you open starts to move, creeping across your inner thigh to join the other between your legs. Kuroo watches it slide over your skin, his pupils blown wide with arousal as he watches his black tails writhe around you, simultaneously pinning you in place and stroking you purposely. They know just where to touch to turn you into a whimpering mess, and you cry out around the tendril in your mouth when the tentacle stuffed inside your dripping pussy slides part way out before slamming back inside of you.

The other, thinner one flicks over your clit. Your moan is muffled by the tentacle shoved down your throat. All four wiggle in delight as you arch your back, trying to match the pace of the tentacle that begins to pound into you. It’s thick inside you, stretching you obscenely, and Kuroo chuckles under his breath as he watches your pretty cunt swallow the shadowy tendril.

He takes a step back and slips his hands back into his pockets, watching the tentacle fuck you with a wild look in his eyes, like a cat toying with a mouse that’s already been caught. As he cocks his head to the side, his stares intently as your cute pussy as it drips all over the wriggling appendage. Slick glistens against the black tendril with every harsh thrust, and Kuroo shivers at the phantom sensation of your cunt clenching around one of his black tails.

The one playing with your clit strokes over you slowly, swirling against your swollen nerves in the same slow, teasing way as Kuroo’s tongue.

“I guess you really are a depraved little slut,” he muses, leaning his weight onto one leg. “Letting a bunch of filthy tentacles ravish you in a dirty alleyway.” Gold eyes glint possessively as they lock with yours. “And look how well you take them.”

A muffled moan falls from your mouth, and the tentacle pressed against your tongue thrusts against the back of your throat languidly, wiggling in a way that borders on uncomfortable. The tentacle in your mouth slides out of you wetly, leaving a trail of saliva across your cheek as it retreats to your neck, coiling tighter around your throat as you gasp for breath.

The tentacle thrusts against you harder, and this time there’s nothing in your mouth to muffle you as you cry out. “Ah, Tetsu, please.” You practically sob his name, writhing almost as much as the tendrils fucking you. “Please, I can’t—” You cut off with a whine, your head tossed back against the wall as you squeeze your eyes shut. By now you’ve started trembling, pleasure feeding into the tight little ball of tension in your lower belly with every rough thrust and stroke from his quirk.

“That’s right, kitten,” Kuroo murmurs. The jingle of his belt coming undone makes you whimper, and you force your eyes open, watching as his hand slips beneath his slacks, palming his hard cock. “Beg me to let you cum. You sound so fucking pretty when you beg for me.”

Your mouth is moving immediately, whimpering garbled pleas and breathy versions of his name between the gasps and moans rolling off your tongue. You’re only half aware of what you’re saying, but delight flickers in his eyes with every word. He strokes himself slowly, watching as you start to come undone.

The appendage around your throat constricts, stealing your breath.

The tentacle inside you writhes as the one on your clit rubs against you at just the right angle, and your mouth drops open in a silent scream as the knot of tension inside you snaps. You choke out a rough, strangled version of his name, whimpering as you tremble, writhing against the limbs holding you in place. The tentacles fuck you through it, pace never slowing as they draw out the pleasure until there are tears welling in your eyes from the intensity.

Shaking as you start to come down from the high, you wince when the pounding doesn’t stop. “Tetsu. I can’t—” The tendril that flicks over your clit again makes you flinch, and the one still stuffed inside your pussy thrusts against you roughly, making your walls clench. A hissed exhale escapes from between your teeth, your eyes squeezing shut at the raw feeling of overstimulation. “Too much,” you gasp, starting to struggle against the near painful pleasure.

You shiver as he caresses your cheek, his hand warm against your clammy skin. “Oh, sweetheart,” he coos as you lean into his touch, thumb brushing against your bottom lip lovingly. “You didn’t think we’d be done that fast, did you? No, we’re just getting started.”

The tentacles curled around your limbs suddenly yank you towards Kuroo, pulling you away from the side of the building. They drag you down to your knees, and you wince as gravel digs into your skin. The tentacle around your wrists release you, but before you can grab Kuroo’s thighs to steady yourself, they’re wrenched behind you back, binding you again.

Kuroo nudges your thighs further apart with his foot. An approving sound rumbles in his chest as he watches the tentacle continue to fuck you despite your whimpering. He grabs your chin between his thumb and fingers, grip bruising as he tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. A devilish look flashes in his eyes, sharp and predatory as he looks at you, on your knees for him. He shoves the front of his pants down with his free hand, clever fingers sneaking inside to stroke himself.

There’s a reason they call him a panther. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

[utterlyinevitable]

Hey would you be able to write a follow on fic from your hurricane series where Mc gives in and gives Ethan a lap dance infront of her friends? ☺️

Hurricane (Part 6): Alternate Scene

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: M to be safe Warning: lap dance and alcohol and lewd thoughts (kinda)  Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

a/n: For @panda9584 💞

_____________________

As the day went on, the trio of residents progressively got more and more inebriated by the hour. Sienna ended up running around the couch as many times as she could in 15 seconds, Elijah was dared to make a cocktail with his eyes closed, and Becca refused to do a dare.

Becca picked a card for her turn.

“Dare.” She announced, a sweat breaking on her forehead in anticipation.

Sienna let out a drunk giggle. “I dare you to go give Ethan a lap dance.”

Ethan’s head perked out of his book at his name in conjunction with the word “lap dance”;

“What are you doing?”

“Truth or Dare,” Sienna informed through her giggle. “Ethan, come play!”

The man pushing forty was quick to repudiate, “Absolutely not. I’m not a child.”

“Suit yourself, fun police.”  

“Go play, son. I’m going to make some calls.” Naveen chuckled with a wink. He had spent the whole day watching his residents’ charades, now it was time to go to work and let them enjoy the rare time together. Naveen also hoped his departure would give Ethan the space to lighten up.

Taking the hint his oldest friend so graciously smacked him with, Ethan stood and moved to sit closer to the group of friends.  

“I’m not playing,” he huffed as he perched on the cold cushion closest to Becca.

Everyone ignored him.

Elijah brought back the attention to Becca, “Dance or chug, Bec?”

She briefly glanced over her shoulder at Ethan. His features were his signature stoic, yet she could see the glimmer of playfulness hiding within the depths of his irises.

Turning back to her friends, she took a long, dramatic breath. Eventually she proclaimed, “Oh, fuck it!”

Ethan’s eyes went wide and he instinctively leaned back into the cushions. As swiftly as possible, he mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen, what her friends were about to witness. He told himself he had to keep his hands put. Now was not the time to get excited. But, man, he can’t wait to have her so close. The thought itself had his eyes shutting with pleasure. Ethan unfolded his hands from where they hung in the space between his legs and gingerly placed his palms against the paisley cushion.  

She eyed her friends, a look Ethan couldn’t see but could feel - the icy daggers soaring their way. 

Then she stood, turned towards him with the most impassive of expressions. He couldn’t read her mind nor her features in the dim fireside lighting. Somehow her uncertainty had his leg jittering with wanton anticipation. 

A tight smirk rested on Ethan’s lips, so smug and only for her. He was challenging her. And Becca was determined to prove champion.

In the background Sienna and Elijah were huddled over the former’s phone. “No - that one. It has to be.” 

A second later Pony started to play.

Becca freed her hair, letting the chestnut locks cascade down her shoulders. Running a hand to mess it up more - unwittingly making sure the signature scent of her shampoo reached his nostrils even from this distance. 

Standing in front of him she started to sway her hips to the music. One step, and she’s closer. Another, and her legs are an inch from his. Third step, and she’s within reach, looming over him and his heart is starting to race. He knows there’s at least two other people in this room, but he doesn’t care. The room isn’t lit all that well and anyway all he can see - all he can feel surrounding him and gripping at his being - is her. She doesn’t need to touch him to have him unraveling. 

Another half step and Becca’s nudging his legs open with her knee to stand perfectly in between them. She’s still dancing - swaying, rather - in small, reserved motions. Ethan’s midnight eyes are on her intently - roving from her face, to her hips, trailing back up to her hands that he knows can cause so much damage with one simple touch. He’s watching her hands roam her torso and she moves so close - till her legs are pressed firmly against the sofa. Her fingers playing with the hem of her top, giving him just the slightest of glimpses at the pale skin beneath before its gone all too soon.  

Ethan swallows past the lump in his throat. 

The music picks up. So she did as well; throwing one leg over his, her knees resting on the couch. Becca was hovering over his lap now and Ethan could smell the perfume she wears as she dips with the music, her inner hips all but meeting his thigh. Oh how he wished it did. She’s not touching him and it’s killing him -- Becca hasn’t said a word to him since earlier, either. Now here she was, in one of the places she would tell him she loves most, ignoring the pull of inevitability between them. 

Her knee so close to his hand he dared to creep closer - dared to break the cardinal rule of things like this. His thumb and forefinger brushing at the fabric at her knee. 

Becca hadn’t looked him in the eyes since the challenge began. Purposefully, he’s sure. His eyes followed her hands as they drew nonsensical patterns, hooded in embarrassment. For a fraction his mind jumps to the strokes of the last work of art she mapped on the canvas of his back. 

He felt his jeans become uncomfortably tight. 

She dipped her hips again like she knows what lays beneath - the sweet bit of torture she could inflict by just grazing his lap. Her torso rolling forwards with the movement, and now he can smell the peony and apple soap she uses. Her eyes are closed and she’s just moving - moving and keeping her distance. 

And if there was a single saint in hell Ethan begins to call on them all. How long left? Not long enough, that’s for sure. 

Ethan dared some more, unwritten rules be damned. His hand gingerly trailed up the back of her calf, around to the front of her knee and up her thigh. Stopping just before reaching her hip as she rolled into the three inches of space between their laps. He took a risk. And if she didn’t like it she didn’t give any inclination but a turn of her head. He could see the faint love bite he left last night at the base of her neck - so faint no one but the two of them would know it’s a bruise of passion.  

Both her knees found their way to the cushion and now Becca was fully on top of him. So many times she’s been like this. It took everything in Ethan not to lift her into his arms and carry her upstairs that second. It also took a lot of self control not to audibly groan - her friends didn’t need to bear witness to his primitive side. 

The strength she used to keep herself upright dwindled away with the new closeness. One hand on his chest, the other digging into the top of the cushion behind his back, his hands still anchored on her thighs. Ethan could hear the lowering beats of the music over the thumping in his ears. Could feel her labored breaths passing across his cheeks. 

His thumbs began rubbing circles at her hips. Becca moves back - as upright as she can get. Her hand running through her hair and over her face and Ethan just wants her to look at him. So he doesn’t what you aren’t supposed to do - he trails a hand up her body and cups her cheek. The electricity between them vibrates. Ignites into flames when her entire being leans into him. Runs rampant as his fingers tangle in her hair. His eyes close as Ethan pulls her to him, lips parted and intent on satiating this spurring in his abdomen. 

And just when they should have collided his eyes dart open. Becca’s gone. Not within reach anymore. He chances a glance to where her friends must still be loitering. 

They’re there. Like they haven’t moved.

So is Becca.  

The only move she made was lifting the glass to her lips. And it dawns on him...

Becca chose to chug.

It was all just a daydream of a rakish man. 

And Ethan couldn’t believe he was more disappointed than relieved.

_______________________

a/n: potentially garbage? yeah. sensuality isn't my strong suit, i prefer making people’s hearts hurt 😅

@openheartfanfics  @choicesficwriterscreations

Perma:

@lucy-268  @thegreentwin  @queencarb  @danijimenezv  @starrystarrytrouble   @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @maurine07  @mercury84choices  @schnitzelbutterfingers  @the-pale-goddess @whimsicallywayward15  @mvalentine  @mm2305 @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine   @withbeautyandrage  @forallthatitsworth   @stateofgracious  @missmiimiie  @uneravine   @iemcpbchoices  @sophxwithers @therookie @quixoticdreamer16 @lsvdw-blog @reputaytion-xiii 

@adiehardfan @headoverheelsforramsey @dickgraysonsscrumptiousbooty

Ethan:

@udishaman  @binny1985  @honeyandsunfl0wers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @ohchoices  @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy  @stygianflood  @caseyvalentineramsey @openheartthot @senseofduties  @tsrookie  @kalogh @aworldoffandoms  @takemyopenheart  @casey-v @ethanramseylover @a-crepusculo @randomperson111  @lilypills @anntoldst0ries @nix-grey  @aishaaaaaaah @estellaelysian @mysticaurathings @mayarambles

[trashscenariihxh]

Hisoka x fem!Reader

You didn’t know what had driven you to stand up Hisoka at Heavens Arena, but when the day of your match arrived, you just couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed. There had been no last minute jitters, no sudden fear of death, just nothing but the purest ennui. And so, when your alarm went off on the day of your match, you’d said “to hell with it” and gone back to sleep.

To be honest, you’d half-expected an indignant Hisoka to come pounding on your door almost immediately, but when he didn’t appear, you figured that he wasn’t overly bothered. You found yourself wondering whether he’d actually shown up for the match anyway. As time went on, you noticed that he’d scheduled other matches. Part of you wanted to watch them, but you ultimately declined, knowing too well how they’d all end anyway.

So, instead of watching one of Hisoka’s matches, you’d spent the day in your suite. You’d just registered for a fight yourself, a match with a decently-known enhancer who called himself Ajax. You weren’t worried; in your opinion, you’d fought stronger, smarter opponents before. You knew better than to get cocky, however. You’d need to be prepared, to be ready to fight with a cool, level head…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud series of knocks at the door. You stiffened. You weren’t expecting anyone to come by, and even if you were, you didn’t want the company. Not now. You stood, ready to go and tell whoever was at the door to leave you be, and immediately froze. That aura. You knew it well.

Hisoka.

Icy fingers of dread ran down your spine. What was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be fighting? You looked at the clock and realized with a lurch in your stomach that he’d probably finished. If he’d shown up at all, that is. You stood, frozen in place as the knocking started up again, each knock setting your teeth on edge. What did Hisoka want? As the knocking persisted, you realized that your only option was to answer the door and face whatever awaited you on the other side. 

You weren’t necessarily afraid of him. Sure, you felt like you could take him in a fair fight, but cornered like this, unprepared, was different. You felt small all of a sudden. Vulnerable. You weren’t sure what exactly Hisoka wanted, but the tendrils of bloodlust seeping into the room made it clear that he wasn’t dropping by for a friendly chat. Your stomach twisted into sick knots as you approached the door. As you turned the knob, you struggled to regain your composure, to make it look like you weren’t two seconds away from escaping through your window just to avoid this upcoming confrontation.

Swinging the door open, your eyes widened in shock at Hisoka’s appearance. His clothes were splattered with blood, presumably not his own, and he had a large bruise on one of his sharp cheekbones. You looked him up and down, and a split second later, the words were leaving your mouth before you could even think to stop them.

“What are you doing here?”

Hisoka’s mouth twisted into a leer.

“May I come in?”

That threw you off. If Hisoka had come to kill, maim, or otherwise inflict bodily harm upon you, he’d probably have done so already. Ignoring his request, you posed another question.

“What do you want?”

Hisoka shrugged. “To talk.”

To talk? People didn’t show up on other people’s doorsteps covered in gore just to talk. You eyed him suspiciously. When he didn’t press the matter further, you sighed and shrugged, stepping back and holding the door open to allow him in.

Hisoka sashayed past you, turning to face you as you closed the door and fixed him with a firm look.

“Well?” You crossed your arms over your chest and set your jaw. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Ah, _____…” He smiled at you, lowering his eyelids. “I wanted to talk to you about our little agreement that you failed to honor. Our fight.”

Ah. You should have guessed he’d come to settle that score sooner or later. Deep down, you’d known what this was about the second you’d discerned that it was him outside your door, but you couldn’t help wondering why he was bothering you about it now? The match had been scheduled two weeks ago. Why was Hisoka only now seeking you out?

“What about it?”

“You didn’t show up for it, ____. And I was so looking forward to it.”

You hummed and bit your lip. Of course he was.

“What I was to know, is why you didn’t show up. Scared?” He drawled out the last word, long and syrupy.

You shook your head. Truthfully, you hadn’t been scared, but something had stopped you from going through with the fight. Maybe you just hadn’t been feeling your best that day, or maybe you’d just wanted to stay in bed for a few more hours. Perhaps you’d figured that Hisoka wasn’t going to show up anyway. Deep down, in the recesses of your core, though, you knew the truth: you didn’t want to give him what he wanted.

Hisoka’s eyes narrowed, as if trying to stare into your mind. “Whatever your reason, ____…” he smiled, “you owe me a match.”

“I owe you shit,” you scoffed, surprised at your forwardness.

“Don’t you?” A split second later, Hisoka was behind you, his hand on your throat as he pulled you into himself. He chuckled as you struggled to break his grip, his crotch grinding into your ass.

You fruitlessly clawed at Hisoka’s hand around your throat. You were confident in your nen abilities, but you were a distance fighter. When it came to physical strength, Hisoka had you beaten ten times over. Just as your vision was beginning to cloud over, Hisoka relaxed his grip and you stumbled forward, coughing and sputtering as you sucked air into your lungs.

He chuckled again, low and smooth, and cocked his head. “What, ____? No fighting spirit? No counterattack? I’ll go easy on you.”

You glared at him from across the room, wanting to attack him but knowing there was no point. You knew how Hisoka was; he definitely had a plan.

“I don’t want to fight you here,” you stated bluntly, rubbing your throat.

“Then where?” He was approaching you again, with long, slow strides. You instinctively backed away, step for step. As you backed away, you became acutely aware of the way your body was heating up under his gaze, just like it used to before. You hated it.

“Hisoka…” you said raspily, warning him to back off despite showing no aggression yourself. You yelped quietly when your back came in contact with the wall. You’d run out of space to retreat.

“Yes?” He stopped, just inches away from you.

“I think you’d better leave.”

“And what if I don’t?” He leered down at you.

“Then… then…” You trailed off, cursing the tremble in your voice. He was just so close to you, and your body was beginning to respond. It had been a long time since you’d been with him, but the effect he had on you was still the same.

“Then what?” To your surprise, he dipped down to press a soft kiss to your neck.

Your skin crawled at the contact. You longed to push him away, to tell him that you’d sworn never to fuck him again, that fucking someone you were previously scheduled to fight to the death with was just plain lunacy. But you didn’t. Instead you found yourself tilting your head to the side to give him better access. He moaned against your skin, and the sound snapped you back to reality. Jerking your head away, you shoved him back, and before you could consider whether or not it was a good idea, you smacked him across the face.

Hisoka’s eyes widened at the contact, and he pressed his long fingers against the reddening welt. You’d put a lot of force into the slap.

“____…” he said, his voice deep and raspy, “that was lovely.”

Half a moment later he was on you again, kissing you with tongue and teeth. This time, you let him; you decided to give in to your basic urges. If you weren’t going to fight him just yet, you might as well fuck him one last time.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Hisoka lifted you with ease, pinning you against the wall as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth and grabbed fistfuls of his clothing. A cacophony of thoughts whirled through your mind. You wanted him gone, you wanted him out of your life completely. He filled you with disgust, hatred, resentment. And yet you wanted him there, on you, in you, panting between your legs.

You tightened your legs around his waist as he drew back, taking you with him and walking over to the bed before throwing you down unceremoniously onto the soft mattress. You gasped, sitting up then standing to hastily disrobe as Hisoka did the same. You couldn’t help but notice that his skin still had the dried blood of his unfortunate opponent on it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

Falling back onto the bed, you spread your legs, suddenly very aware of how wet you were growing between them. Hisoka climbed on top of you, his cock already hard, and positioned himself at your entrance. Inwardly, you cringed, knowing that there would be no foreplay, no gentle preparation; there would be only rough entry, the sudden fullness, the ache and sting of the stretch. It was what you needed.

Hisoka seemed to sense this, and without wasting another moment, pushed into you, bottoming out in a few deep thrusts. He paused, letting out a deep masculine moan at the depth, at your tightness. The heat. You barely had any time to adjust before he was moving again, his hips snapping against yours in an almost frenzied rhythm.

You needed something to cling on to, so you gripped his shoulders. You were somewhat surprised that you were able to do so; in previous encounters, Hisoka had taken a liking to binding your wrists with his damn bungee gum, but not this time, it seemed. You reveled in your freedom, and dug your nails into the pale flesh of his back.

“____,” he panted out letting his head loll back for a moment before burying it in the crook of your neck. “Yes. Let me feel all you have to give me.” He bit your neck then, hard, and you dug your fingernails into his back even harder. You were sure you’d drawn blood.

Hisoka grunted into your neck before sitting up grabbing your hips and holding them in place before pounding into you again. For a moment he slowed, a grin spreading across his face as he removed a hand from your hip and pressed two of his fingers into your mouth.

You bit him. His eyes widened, his smile never faltering as he withdrew his fingers. “I love it when you look at me like that,” he drawled, digging his own nails into the meat of your thighs as he pumped into you. His grip was like iron; hard, cold, and sure to bruise. You gave up trying to contain your noises, and you moaned incoherently when his cock slammed against your cervix.

“That’s good, ____, let me hear you,” he panted, somehow tightening his grip even more. When you moaned again, he paused, removing a hand from one of your hips so he could rub against your clitoris.

You bit your lip as you fruitlessly tried to contain the pleasured sounds that threatened to tear themselves from your body. It was all for nothing; Hisoka knew your body well, too well, and he was using his knowledge to his advantage. It only took a few more rubs of your clit, a few more thrusts, to send the white heat of orgasms pulsing through your body.

You felt your entire body go limp; you were exhausted, overstimulated beyond belief, but Hisoka wasn’t done. He thrusted into you a few more times before withdrawing and flipping you over onto your stomach, grabbing your hips again and pulling your ass into the air. You whined in overstimulation when he pushed back in again; you were so full, so sensitive, so exhausted, but Hisoka didn’t care. He was using you for his own pleasure now; he was pulling your body into the exact position he wanted, exerting his superior physical strength as he did so.  You moaned weakly in protest when he set another hard pace; you tried to let your forehead rest against the soft mattress, but Hisoka tangled a hand in your hair and wrenched your head back, forcing you on to your hands and knees.

You gasped in pain as his grip on your hair tightened, completely at his mercy as he continued to fuck into you without restraint. He was chasing his own release now, and if the way his breathing was becoming ragged was any indication, he was close. The room was filled with Hisoka’s hoarse breathing, your moans, and the obscene slap of his hips against your ass; part of you wondered whether the whole floor could hear you, but at the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt as though it was on fire; your nerve endings were so beyond overstimulated that you were fairly certain that you were going to die if Hisoka kept fucking you the way he was.

Luckily for you, Hisoka found his release after a few deep, sharp thrusts. He came with a moan, holding your ass flush against his body as he spilled deep inside of you. His hips gave a few spasmodic jerks as he came. When he finished, he withdrew with a gasp.

Surprisingly, Hisoka wasted no time in picking up his clothes and dressing himself. You marveled at the sight. During times past, you virtually had to shove him out the door. This time, he regarded you coolly as he dressed, as if deep in thought. You didn’t bother dressing again. You wanted a shower, to wash him off and out of you. When you felt his release trickling down your leg, you winced as little hints of disgust began to eat away at you.

“Now, ____,” Hisoka spoke, his voice low and smooth as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion, “about our match…”

“What about it?” you snapped, groaning as you stood. You really needed that shower.

“I am going to challenge you again. And I expect you to accept.”

You sighed. So it had come to this again. Wearily, you nodded. “All right, all right. If it will get you out of my room.”

Hisoka only smiled at your annoyance.  “It’s a pity, really. We won’t have much time left to do this,” he gestured toward the bed, “again.”

No, you supposed you wouldn’t, but you kept your mouth shut. No sense in engaging with him. Not now.

When he failed to get a rise out of you, Hisoka’s face lapsed into one of boredom. He shrugged. “Remember our match,” he stated again as he headed towards the door. “And be sure to show up this time.”

You could only nod at him as he left, sighing when the door closed behind him. You certainly would.

[vivithefolle]

It bugs me how Harry and Ron didn't tell Hermione what Ron saw during the locket destruction. That would have added more depth to Romione and the Trio's interpersonal relationships as a whole!!!!

I don’t blame Ron for not wanting to go through such a traumatic thing right after it happened.

We can only speculate as to when he told Hermione about it - because I wholeheartedly believe he told her, only when he was in a safer place mentally - but it sure would have been nice for Hermione to, like... I get that she’s angry. Hell it’s normal to be angry. But if she was really as mature as Rowling likes to claim she is, she wouldn’t have reacted like a goddamn 4 years old child.

Ron and Harry go back to the tent, and Harry fades into the background so as not to interfere with the lovers’ reunion. That’s a mistake. After Harry wakes Hermione, she shows her delight at Ron’s return by--attacking him? She punches him over a dozen times while yelling at him and screaming for her wand from Harry. Remember last chapter, when I talked about how immature Hermione is? Here’s your proof.

[...]

So there you have it: Hermione Granger, know-it-all supergirl, is so immature she acts like a preschool child when the boyfriend she’s been missing finally returns. I’m not suggesting she has a father-daughter relationship with Ron; this kind of anger is found in other relationships, too. What I am saying is that her way of expressing her anger is appropriate for a very young child. While adults may certainly feel this kind of anger and desire to hit when reunited with a loved one under similar circumstances, they don’t act it out. That restraint is what separates adults from children.

Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron. I frankly found her behavior so out of control as to suggest mental instability. She engages in two full pages of histrionics before throwing herself into a chair, sitting so tensely I’m surprised the circulation isn’t cut off to her arms and legs. She remains in a bratty snit until the end of the chapter, which is another six pages.

I did not write this. I wish I did because it’s amazing. I found it on livejournal... but apparently it was deleted. At least I still have it copy-pasted in a Word document...

Ahem, anyway. So, yeah, Rowling had Hermione freaking punch Ron and threaten to cause him even more bodily harm... probably as a joke.

I’m sure JKR was genuinely, absolutely, wholeheartedly intent on this being a joke.

Like she thought “well, this chapter was really heavy. Let’s end it on a laugh”.

The laugh being "haha look, Ron really thought Hermione was gonna jump in his arms but she actually beats him up!”

......... yeah. The guy who just got psychologically tortured, who has been put through the wringer and has spent the past 5 minutes crying in the snow? Yeah, let’s make him the butt of the joke.

So what I am saying is... I feel you anon. I really do. I just wish people realized how beyond fucked-up it was. Draco Malfoy was given consideration for his tears (Harry is horrified after slashing him up) but Ron Weasley wasn’t??!

If not talking to Hermione about what Ron had to live through, then at least have Hermione like... just thump him on the chest once or twice with her open hand as she cries into his chest. Or act super icy and mean for like ten seconds (”oh, so you came crawling back then. I thought we weren’t supposed to have people we can’t trust on this adventure.”) before she cracks and starts bawling and is like “don’t touch me! Don’t - don’t even - I don’t even want to look at you because if I do I’m going to forgive you and I don’t want to forgive you!!”

If you want to read actually good fics about how Ron confesses what the locket showed him to Hermione: here and here.

[jj-bxby]

Where Do We Go? |Chapter Two| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary - Y/N is a Mainlander who has just moved to The Cut. When she meets her new neighbor, she just may have found the family she’s been searching for, and more.

gif credit - @rue-bennett

Word count - 4.1k (oopsies)

Warnings - Teenage drinking, mention of abuse, fluff at the end

A/N - Okay so I went a bit extra for this chapter, so please let me know what you think! And just ask if you’d like to added to the tag list for the series ❤️

JJ slung his arm around me, walking me over to the small bonfire his friends sat around. The bubbly blonde told me about how I would love his mates and I would become one of the pogues before I even knew it, and I sure as hell hoped he was right. We came to a stop at the fire, and JJ gestured proudly at me before exclaiming a little “Ta-Da!”

“Hey, you found Mystery Girl!” The brunette chuckled.

“Well, she isn’t a mystery anymore. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are the Pogues. Pope, Kie, Sarah, and John B.” All of the pogues greeted me kindly, and Kie patted the empty spot next to her for me to sit down. “So,” Kie began, “We hope we didn’t bug you too much by asking you out here, it isn’t every day that someone new moves in!” She flashed me a smile. “And don’t worry, we don’t bite.”

“Except JJ.” John B grinned

“JB, don’t be a little shit, alright? We want her to stay, you doof,” Sarah said as she gave him a little push on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had to deal with JJ the whole way here. John B seems to be in the minor leagues compared to him, at least on the Shithead Scale.” Kie, Sarah, and Pope all laughed with me while JJ and John B looked at each other in mock-offense.

“Thank God we’ll finally have someone else who can put up with them.” Pope smiled.

“Oh yeah, it can’t get much worse than JJ scaring me awake and making me face-plant out of my hammock.”

“JJ did what, now?” Kie cocked an eyebrow at JJ accusingly.

“Okay, in my defense, I tried to wake her up calmly! She looked like she was gonna karate chop me or something when she shot up outta there!”

“Yeah, because waking a random stranger, who you have never spoken with, from her nap is sooo calm,” I teased. “But yeah, when he woke me up, I was not expecting it. He’s lucky I didn’t headbutt him!” I pointed at JJ, and he smiles.

“Yeah, don’t wanna damage the money-maker.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Your ego would have cushioned the blow.”

“Goddamn, girl, you’re gonna give J a run for his money,” JB chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, Pretty Girl got me this time,” JJ retorted while he stood up, walking over to me. “C’mon, can’t leave ya empty-handed.”

I nod at him, accepting his outstretched hand to help me off the log. “Back in a minute, guys.” JJ led us both to the standing keg in the center of the beach.

“Can you tell if they liked me? Was I saying stupid shit?” I asked the boy, slightly nervous. This was a new thing to me: I was never one to care about what people thought of me, so why do I care now?

“Don’t worry, doll, they loved you,” he winked. “Not everyone can handle me and my—“

“Bullshit?”

“I was gonna say cockiness, but that works too. But anyway, they love you. You’re a natural pogue, Y/N. I think Kiara and Sarah, like you, especially.” We finally reach the keg, and he turns to face me. “On tonight’s menu, we have beer or vodka with some strawberry lemonade Crystal Light. Pick your poison.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, suddenly finding the sand very interesting.

“So, uh, here’s the thing. I’m not really a drinker,” I begin, finally looking back up at JJ, who’s gaze never left mine. “And—“

JJ cuts me off, quickly. “Shit, I’m sorry. Look, you don’t have to pick anything if you don’t want to, it’s not a requirement or anything. And I don’t want to pressure you, you know?”

“Oh my god, JJ, shut up for just a second, okay? I was gonna say I haven’t ever drunk, so I don’t know what I like. I was gonna ask you what you thought I should pick, you dummy.” I giggle at him as he rakes his hand through his hair.

“Well, in that case, I’d say beer. Just don’t drink too quickly, ‘kay Pretty Girl? Don’t want you throwing up on me,” he smirked.

“Alright, beer it is, then.”

JJ knelt down to grab a cup and pour a drink, still chattering on about how I need to drink a glass of water for every cup of beer. It’s so stupid, but I was so in awe of him. This boy I knew nothing about just mystified me, everything about him did. The way his lips curled up at the edges whenever he said something he thought was funny, the curves and lines of his biceps, how wisps of his hair were caught in the starlight perfectly, and, oh my God, his eyes. They were so brilliantly blue. They were the kind of blue that made me hear Hawaiian waters in my ears. The kind of blue that brought a sense of serenity, despite the chaos around us. The brilliance of his eyes did not hide their depth — at least not to me. I could see the shimmer of midnight within them, and the kind of navy blue found in an endless, bleak cavern. Behind the cool, icy facade, there were storms dappled throughout the calm. JJ handed me my now full cup, and I opened my mouth to ask him a question, but a voice interrupted me before I could even begin.

“Found another Touron to fuck, aye, Maybank?” JJ’s head snapped to the source of the voice. Another tall blonde had walked up to us. This boy seemed to be the complete opposite of JJ: Gelled hair, board shorts, a pastel-toned shirt, and an air of arrogance surrounding him. He wasn’t calming like JJ, he was intimidating.

“Lay off, Rafe. She isn’t a Touron, she just moved to the island,” JJ spat. He then grabbed my hand protectively, seeming like he wanted to shield me entirely from the drunken boy’s words.

“Ah, so she’s a long-term fuckbuddy, then.” The boy, Rafe, cackled as he swayed. JJ just rolled his eyes and squeezed my hand in his, his eyes finding my own.

“He’s drunk, Y/N, don’t worry about him. Not that he’s any less of an asshole sober.” I nodded, and JJ faced Rafe again. “Go off to your Kook friends, and don’t fucking talk about her like that, got it?” Rafe rolled his eyes and ignored JJ, instead locking his gaze on me.

“Once you see his old man smack him around, you’ll change your mind about him, babe. He ain’t worth shit.”

I kept my eyes locked on Rafe’s as I spoke slowly, my voice unwavering. “Leave us the fuck alone. Now. I don’t care who you are, I don’t know you, but I will not back down to you. So you better stay in your damn lane. You seem like one to not fight girls, but I don’t discriminate.” I finish, and immediately turn around and head off towards the bonfire where the pogues were sat, tugging JJ along with me.

He stopped us and I spun around to look at him, glancing over his shoulder to see Rafe giving me a smug look as he took a swig of his vodka before I shift my eyes back to JJ’s. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’re a feisty one, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well I don’t exactly take kindly to people who harass my friends,” I sigh. “I’m kinda scrappy, I guess. At least that’s what my everyone used to tell me.”

“Friend, huh? I like it. And, look, I’m not looking to just fuck around with you, y‘know? If I told Rafe that, it’s all he would have fixated on.” His gaze falling to the sand.

“JJ, I get it. Don’t worry, okay?” I wait for him to look at me. “I’m a walking box of daddy issues, anyways,” I smile slightly, and JJ gives me a laugh.

“Well, damn, we have even more in common than I thought, Pretty Girl. Now, let’s head back to the fire, you need to relax after all that.” I smiled at JJ and noticed how his eyes flicked to my lips for half a second. Just friends, though... right? JJ guided us back towards the group, his arm slung around my waist, and I was definitely hyper-aware of every inch of his skin pressed against my midsection. I take a sip of my beer, trying to distract myself. Finally, we stopped at the bonfire, and everyone gave us a little cheer and a wave, and JJ pulled me down to sit beside him.

“Hey, was King Kook giving you shit, Y/N?” Sarah asked me.

“Yeah, ’cause we’ll mess him up if you want us to,” Kie butts in, giggling. “But seriously,” Sarah continues, “You looked pretty pissed off, did Rafe say something? God, he’s such a dick. And I can say that, ‘cause I live with him.”

“Ah, he was just drunk and pestering us, is all,” I say. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Yeah, the pretty one can fend for herself, it seems. Not that I wouldn’t have stepped in if they threw down, of course. But, that being said, I would be pretty curious to see how badly Rafe would get his ass beat.” JJ grinned at me proudly, and I wiggled my eyebrows at him as I sipped on my drink.

“So, on a more serious note, what do you think of the OBX so far, Y/N?” Pope asked me.

“Oh, it’s so frickin’ gorgeous!” I nearly yell, and I bring my hand up to cover my mouth, surprised by my outburst. I giggle before I continue on. “Well, at least what I’ve seen of it, I guess. But I really can’t wait to go out on the water, of course I still need to find a boat somewhere, but the sea is so perfect for swimming. It would be damn good for fishing too!” I was pretty obviously excited, and John B grinned at me.

“Well, missy, you’re in luck. The HMS Pogue is in need of a drive again, and we were planning on going out tomorrow. You up for a little initiation ride?” John B asked, raising his eyebrow.

I smile widely. “Hell yes, I am!”

“Well, it’s settled. Tomorrow, you’ll officially become one of the pogues, Y/N,” Kie said excitedly.

JJ raised his cup, “To the pogues!”

“To the pogues!” We all cheered. Everyone began babbling together about things that needed to be ready for tomorrow — and whether or not they should push me off and into the sea to see if I can get back onto the boat as a ritual.

I smiled at the sight around me and took a swig of my drink, and JJ bumped his shoulder into mine before whispering in my ear. “See? I told you they’d love you as much as I do, Pretty Girl.”

I suppressed a shiver when I felt his breath against my ear, trying my hardest not to falter in my voice as I responded quietly. “Mhm, I’m pretty hard to not love, huh?” I brought my cup up to my lips again, and he cocked his eyebrow at me, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Goddamn,” he murmured as he shook his head. He glanced down at my cup and looked back up at me, concerned. “You better slow down, you know. I know you haven’t been drinking before, so… Just be careful, ‘kay?”

I rolled my eyes at him, sipping my drink again. “Oh don’t worry about it, I have to get used to it somehow,” I say, brushing him off. I can see that his brows are still furrowed, and I think for a second. “Y’know, if you’re really that worried about me, I guess you can stay at my place tonight.”

“Oh really, now?” He questioned teasingly.

“You’ll be on the couch, dumbass.” JJ just laughed, and his brows softened in relief.

“I like this arrangement. I’ll take care of ya if you need it, Y/N.” I nod at him, and I realize that I just invited him back to my own house, and I wonder when I became so brave. I turn away from JJ as Sarah asks if I’ve ever been scuba diving before, and I begin chatting away. As we talk, I can feel JJ’s gaze on me, and for once in my life, I don’t mind it. For once, having a boy pay attention to me was a good thing, even if it was simply him being a concerned friend. Eventually, I finish my drink and JJ pours some water into my cup, I mouth a silent ‘thank you’ to him, before turning back to Sarah and Kie.

“What brought you to the Outer Banks, Y/N?” Kie asks me.

“Oh, I guess it a bit of a long story. But… I think I just really needed a fresh start.” I say quietly. It wasn’t technically a lie — it was more of an omission. It was a long story, and I did need a new beginning, but I didn’t exactly want to say why. Not yet, at least.

“Hey, I think we’ve all felt that a time or twenty,” John B says reassuringly. “Do you have a job lined up out here yet?”

“Oh yeah, I’m teaching dance classes to little kids over on the North Side. I used to it back on the Mainland, too. Actually, I was a dancer myself back there.”

“Ooh, is it the one that’s brand new?” Sarah asks me, and I nod. “It’s only a few minutes from my house! You have to come over, Y/N!”

“I’d love to,” I smiled widely at Sarah.

“Here, gimme your phone, girl,” I laugh and hand my phone over to Sarah, and she enters her phone number for me. My phone ends up being passed between all of the pogues, all of them entering their contacts and sending themselves a text to get my number. I smile as JJ passes my phone back to me, finally, him being the last one to enter his number. Sarah is extra bubbly now; telling me about how she’ll let me pick through her closet, how we’ll walk on the boardwalk and see all of the small artisan shops, and how she wants to take me to the little ice cream stand that sets up every day near her house. “Kie, you have to come too, it’ll be a girls’ day! Don’t even start on how you don’t like unnecessary gender roles and shit, okay, it’s just an expression.” Kiara smiles and tells us that shes in.

“So if it’s just an expression, does that mean I can come too?” Pope asks, feigning a pout.

“Nope,” the three of us say in unison. “Look, we have to show her that there’s actually shit to do on the island, aside from working and fishing,” Kie says as she gives Pope a kiss on the cheek.

“And we have to get to know her too, duh. Can’t do that with you boys around,” Sarah smiles at me. “Don’t worry, we won’t do anything crazy, though.”

I smile back at them, and I tell them that I can’t wait for our girls’ day. I go to take a drink from my cup, only to find that I’ve finished my water, and I make a pouty face. I stand up, looking around. “Anyone need a refill?”

“Yeah, I do. You sit back down, though, I’ll run and grab some,” JJ tells me. I roll my eyes and tell him a little thank you before passing him my empty cup. I sit back down and see that everyone is looking at me expectantly. “Uh, did I do something wrong?” I ask.

Pope shakes his head, “No, no nothing wrong. It’s just—”

“We haven’t really seen JJ take to someone as quickly as he has to you,” Kie explains. “He doesn’t usually trust anyone very quickly.”

John B nods at me. “Yeah, the closest he gets is being flirty with Tourons that he wants to f— Ow!” Sarah smacked him on the arm to cut him off, and John B gave her a little glare as he rubbed his arm.

“It’s nice to see him actually let his guard down and hit it off with someone,” Pope clarifies, smiling kindly. “He’s a good guy, he just doesn’t trust people very easily.”

“But, he clearly sees something in you to change that,” Kiara adds. “I think he picked a good person to put his confidence into.”

I smiled to myself, appreciating the pogues’ reassurance. It feels like I’m actually surrounded by love for the first time in my life, and although it frightened me, it made me so happy at the same time. When JJ came back to us, we all laughed and drank for a few more hours, before finally deciding it was time to head back to our homes. We were able to walk together the majority of the way, but eventually we had to split off. Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and John B all headed back to his house, and JJ and I branched off to my own. Admittedly, I was quite buzzed. I was lucky to have JJ at my side, as I nearly tripped a time or two, and he caught me every time.

“Y/N, you’re lucky I decided to come with you,” he laughed. We had finally reached my doorstep, and I was facing JJ, my back resting against the door.

“Y’know, JJ, I wish I’d done more stuff like this back on the Mainland. Made more friends, gone to more parties. I would have had a much better time,” I told him.

JJ smiled softly at me. “As much as I may agree, I’m glad you didn’t. I’m glad I get to meet you.” I grinned lazily at him, fumbling for my keys in my pocket, eventually finding the right one and shoving it into the lock, twisting the key and opening the door. I kick off my sandals and JJ does the same.

“So, I don’t exactly have a guest bedroom, but I do have a futon couch.” I say, grabbing blankets and a pillow out of one of my packing boxes and tossing them onto the couch. “I’m so fucking tired.”

JJ sits down, and looks at me, tilting his head. “You know you’re one of us now, yeah?”

I think for a second, not sure how to respond. “I mean, I guess. For how close-knit you all are, I’m glad you guys accepted me.” His lips curled at the edges, and his eyes left mine.

“Me too, Y/N.”

I clear my throat slightly. “Well, the bathroom is down the hall, and the kitchen is right over there if you need water or anything, okay? And my room is just past the bathroom if you need me. Don’t need me,” I say jokingly. JJ smiles as he lays his head back against the couch. I walk off to my bedroom to change out of my clothes, wash my face, and finally lay down.

•

JJ had finally fallen asleep after nearly an hour of thinking of you. He couldn’t get you off of his mind; Your smile, your laugh, the curves of your body, the way he found you sleeping in your hammock that day. You had looked so peaceful, your features soft. God, he just wanted to touch you. He hadn’t wanted to fall for you, but from the moment he’d seen you that day, his heart had skipped a beat. It still made his heart quicken thinking about it.

Kie just pointed you out to all of them, and JJ had to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground.

“Hey, who’s the new girl, JB?” He’d asked, taking a sip of his can.

“No clue, dude. I didn’t even know the house had been for sale, honestly.”

That’s when he saw you looking towards them, and waved as he flashed you a smile. He caught himself staring for an extra second, studying the way your cheeks looked as they flushed with color, and the way the right side of your cheek dimpled as you smiled.

Sarah gave a small whistle when she noticed him staring. JJ snapped his head to her, flipping the bird.

“Ooh, JJ’s ‘boutta be whipped y’all.” Pope cackled.

“J, you don’t even know the girl! Try not to stare so much.” Kie said smugly. JJ groaned, and chugged his beer. He knew they were right, he was staring. But he couldn’t help it, he had never found anyone that attractive. Ever. Something within him felt drawn to you, like a tether being pulled in your direction.

JJ snapped awake as he heard a small yelp. He slowly relaxed back into the couch, until he heard it again. He stood up cautiously, trying not to bump into anything. He padded down towards your room, hearing soft weeping as he grew closer. He gently opened the door, only to find you with a tear-stained face, thrashing your head against the pillow as you whimpered. His heart hurt at the sight, and, without thinking, he sat on the bed, and gently woke you.

•

I don’t totally remember what my dream was to make me wake up with tears running down my face and choked out screams escaping my throat, I just know that it was JJ who held me against him as I woke. I do know that it was JJ who stroked my hair and told me that I would be okay, that he was here. I do know when I finally looked up at him, he was the one who wiped away my tears with his thumb. He was the one who kissed my forehead as he helped me slow my breathing. I know it was him who told me that it was okay as I whispered so many apologies through my tears. His voice was the one to calm me as thunder cracked through the sky, lightning illuminating the room. “Shh, Y/N, it’s okay. You’re safe. I promise. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” he mumbled to me, stroking my back. He continued holding me against him, murmuring calming things to me, helping me relax.

“I’m so sorry, JJ. I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember,” I whispered as I shook my head, my breathing finally evening out. “God, I’m sorry I woke you up. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that.”

JJ sighed, and he pressed a kiss to my hair. “It’s okay, doll. I always wished someone was there to do this for me. I’m just glad you weren’t alone.”

I pull back from his chest to look in JJ’s eyes, getting lost in their blue spell. “Thank you,” I whisper. He tilts his forehead to rest against mine. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, just as they did earlier that night. Boldly, I pressed my lips to his gently. And while JJ seemed surprised, he didn’t pull away. He moved his hand to rest against my cheek, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone delicately. I felt as though I was melting as he moved his lips against my own. I brought my hand up to his hair, finally able to run my hand through his soft mess of hair. We sat like that for what seemed like forever, our bodies intertwined as our lips slid together as thunder clapped through the sky. Until eventually, JJ pulled away, out of breath. “I… I shouldn’t have done that, have I? You’re drunk, Y/N.”

“No, JJ, I barely am, okay? I’m the one who started it, remember? God, I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” The words seemed to pour out of me, and I was suddenly exhausted. “I… I know it isn’t great timing. But I meant it.” JJ’s eyes examined my own, studying how my lashes grazed against my brow bone, and how gorgeous my lips looked despite being puffy. “Please, just stay with me tonight, JJ?”

He nodded slowly before laying back in the bed, opening his arms for me to crawl into, finally resting my head against his chest. JJ presses a kiss to the top of my head before mumbling quietly, “I won’t leave you, Y/N.” I finally closed my eyes again, listening to the fluttering of JJ’s heart and feeling his hands playing with my hair. I finally felt safe as I drifted off to sleep. It was the best sleep I’d gotten in years.

•

taglist ~ @hmspxgue @drewswannabegirl @jiaraendgame @midnightmagicmusings

[hannie-dul-set]

when jaehyun said he was picking you up to go somewhere, you didn't exactly expect to be found in the middle of nowhere. trees were lining the field from a faraway distance and the tall grasses sunk from underneath you. the two of you were leaning against the side of his car on top of a hill on god knows where with no one else but the stars, the moon, and the both of you.

"drinking wine straight out of the bottle— aren't you a classy man?"

a laugh reverberated from jaehyun's throat and he looked at you under the solace of the inky night sky. "let me have my moments, miss y/n."

you sat beside him on the grassy clearing, lightly playing with one of his hands and you looked up to him, only to see downcast drenching his pretty features. letting go of his hand, you sighed and sat up straight, stirring confusion from the male.

"alright, mr. jung," you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's going on in your head? why are you being all sad?" 

he let out a huff of air, lips upturned into a semi-forced smile as he gently took your hand back into his, lacing his fingers into yours. "is it that obvious?"

"you're transparent, jaehyun."

sighing, he adjusted his position and took another swig at the hard drink. "you know how overboard some girls may get around me, right?"

"i've witnessed first hand during your party," you laugh, remembering how panicked he looked during that time. "it was a pitiful sight."

"it wasn't pitiful."

the words left like a soft whine from his lips and you continued to tease him, saying that he looked like a small mouse (ironic, considering his stature) being fought over by a group of wild cats, much to his displeasure.

"anyways," he coughed out, a light wash of pink dousing his cheeks, both from your previous joking and the slight chill of the night's wind. "there's this one girl named seonha— i've never told you about her— and, uh, i wouldn't say she's obsessed with me, but—"

"she's obsessed with you?"

you finished, quirking your brow at him and he hesitantly nodded. "yes, you can say that."

"hm," you hummed. "why, what'd she do?"

"a lot of things," he sighed. "her family is closely knitted with mine so i'd met here during one of their charity auctions. since then, she wouldn't stop following me around— in my office building, when i'm out with mark and johnny. hell, even when i'm out of the country."

jaehyun's exasperation ran through his voice as he continued to tell you about the girl.

"she'd even stir up dating rumors about us two which is messed up all on its own. you could argue that at least there's only one of them bothering me, but it's like selling off a few floods for one gigantic storm," the now empty wine bottle was long forgotten on the ground. jaehyun went on with his rant, raking his free hand into his hair. "johnny and mark had told me to file a restraining order, but that wouldn't do anything considering their family's influence, so i have no choice but to deal with her."

the light chirping of crickets amplified the depth of the evening. you guessed it was already around ten, maybe even later than that. it crossed your mind for a short moment that you had work tomorrow, but that thought quickly diminished into thin air.

"has she still been bothering you lately? i don't think i noticed her around you before," you asked, moving your head away to look at him. his hair was in a slight mess and he was slightly tinged pink. yet underneath the glow of the moonlight, he was still as tantalizing as the nighttime sky.

"she's been on a trip to italy these past few months," he softly replied, gazing down at you like your very own moon. "but she's also been texting me nonstop so that's something."

"well, at least she's not here right now."

"about that," jaehyun enunciated. "she's coming back here in a week."

you went silent and jaehyun could feel his heartbeat slowly but surely rising. were you upset that he'd just told you now? did knowing about seonha bother you? it's not easy for jaehyun to read people's emotions— he'd always been lacking with that category. the longer your silence, the tighter his chest got.

"will you be okay?"

like a sudden breath of warmth, your voice pierced through him and suddenly he can breathe again.

"do i have to protect you like last time?"

the teasing tone in your voice relieved him but at the same time it caused him to glare at you, feigning fake offense and you laughed at him. at least he knew you're not upset.

"i'll be fine, you don't have to worry," he said, giving you a smile of assurance. you detached your hand from his and decided to scoot closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and he naturally found his arm around your waist. "but, enough about that— how was your day, miss y/n?"

"you don't wanna hear about my day. it's as boring as it could get," you reasoned, letting out a small yawn afterwards.

"i do want to hear," he pressed. "i don't mind if it's boring or not. i like listening to you speak."

he caught you off guard with that, to say the least, and you quickly snapped your head to face him. your mind concluded that it was a fatal mistake to do that since now your faces are mere centimeters apart, noses nearly touching. the cold air that was once biting at your skin was suddenly deemed nonexistent due to the sudden rising of the heat.

"a—alright," you stammered, diverting your attention to the sky instead. "if you fall asleep listening, then don't say i didn't warn you, jaehyun."

and so you went on about your day. starting from how you almost got late to your first job because jungwoo and donghyuck thought it was a good idea to barge into your house at four in the morning for a sudden non-sleepover sleepover. then you told him about the adorably gigantic dog you spotted while you were headed for lunch. and now you were talking about one annoying customer you had earlier in the bakery.

"there were five other people in line after her, but apparently getting her blueberry muffin to exactly a hundred-ninety degrees fahrenheit was much more important," you groaned, dropping your head back against the steel of the car. "and of course, i went and reheated one damned muffin just so she would stop complaining."

jaehyun swore he was listening to you. he was attentive— very attentive, and paid the utmost attention to any changes on your features— the way brows bunched up whenever you stop to think for a moment, the way your cheeks were slightly flushed and how you tried to hide it with your hair, the way your lips enunciated each vowel and each consonant and—

fucking hell, your lips.

halfway through your muffin story, his ears were suddenly muffled, his surroundings were a blur, and all he could think about was how your lips would feel against his.

"hyuck always tells me that i'm a bit of a pushover sometimes, and i'm starting to think he's right."

he could hear his heart ringing against his ears. you paused for a moment, sinking your teeth over the plush of your lip in the midst of thought and jaehyun felt like he was being driven into a dangerous corner. 

"do you think i'm a pushover, jae?" your head jolted to face jaehyun and his breath was suddenly caught inside his throat along with the sudden thoughts of you overlapping with more thoughts of you, bringing his mind to a combustible state of disarray. "jaehyun? you alright there?"

"oh— um, sorry," he coughed out. "i got a bit distracted, uh, what— what were you saying?"

his fluster was not only demonstrated by the cracks in his voice, but also by the way his cheeks were flaring scarlet and how he refused to look at you.

"distracted by what exactly?" you questioned.

jaehyun was a smart man. having graduated earlier than his peers and landing such a respectable spot in the company at a young age, you'd think he'd be articulate in every situation thrown at him, but somehow he found himself tripping over his own words."will— will i sound stupid if i say i got distracted by you?" 

oh my god.

"no no," you laughed, your heart suddenly caged inside an untamed whirlwind. you gently moved your left hand over his face, making him look into you. giddiness tugged at your cheeks, releasing an uncontrollable smile. "it's not stupid at all."

a simultaneous burst of dizzying bliss ruptured between the both of you— coming in the form of the identical beams on both of your faces, staring into each others' eyes as if the moon wasn't the brightest thing in the night.

and somehow, under the spectacle of a million stars,

you kissed.

it hadn't dawned on you that you'd waited for this moment to happen until it actually did. soft lips brushing against yours, rousing an unspeakable rush of heat. it was gentle at first— like the light tremors on the sea until the waves suddenly crashed onto you. his parted lips incessant against yours, leaving you in a buzz and on the brink of gasping for air.

until you felt him stop, abruptly pulling away from you with guilt ridden eyes.

"jae? is everything alright?"

"y/n, i— i'm sorry."

in the midst of your shared kiss, jaehyun realized something. and he couldn't bear the thought of it.

he had realized that he was in love with you.

so, so in love with you.

"i can't— i can't do this to you, y/n."

you felt a lump in your throat and you stared at him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. was there something wrong— did you do something wrong? everything felt normal until now, everything felt right. but as you looked at him with tears threatening to spill, you'd thought that maybe none of this was right in the first place.

and maybe jaehyun had realized that, too.

"oh," you sucked in a breath, avoiding eye contact with him, and stumbled to get up from the ground. "right, of course. it— it would be damaging to your reputation if you're with me."

the icy breath of the air hit your face once you managed to stand up, the cold flooding your senses once more. "we both know that this wouldn't work out," you gazed down at him, only to see the glass stained heaviness in his eyes and you nearly broke down. turning your back at him, you swallowed, closing your eyes for a brief moment before choking out,

"i— i should go—"

"y/n, i love you."

you froze. everything froze. 

"my reputation, my image— god, all of those disappear when i'm with you," jaehyun's trembling voice seeped into every corner of your mind, restricting the air from coming into your lungs. "i'm… i'm not an expert when it comes to this but there is no denying that i am in love with you, y/n."

slowly, you went back to face him. jaehyun stood there, bearing his heart to you. the wind brushing against his hair as he looked at you with mist in glazing over his eyes. it was hard to not just run into his arms, telling him that you were also stupidly in love with him, but you held your words back, waiting for him to finish.

"but... with my job and everything," he stutters out. "i—i won't be able to dedicate all of my time to you, i won't be able to take care of you like i should, i—

i can't make you happy, y/n"

"but you already do."

there was a strong gust, breathing against your skin. you felt your heart drop to your knees, a constricting grasp replacing it in your chest as you felt the tears well up even more like a dam itching to break.

"do you think i don't know that? yes, i know you're busy— i know you have a shit ton of responsibilities to the point where you'd probably suffocate from them, and—and i know that sometimes finding time to have a single fucking conversation with you is sometimes impossible," your breath hitched, nearly choking over your own words but you went on. "but that has never stopped you from making me feel happy, jae. because even a single second spent with you can make make me happier than the rest of my life combined, so don't ever say that you can't make me happy because for fuck's sake— jung jaehyun, 

i'm at my happiest when i'm with you."

silence flooded. your breathing was scattered after all the things that you said, chest rising and falling in a repeated rhythm. jaehyun says nothing, only looking at you with an unidentifiable glimmer of heaviness in his face as he slowly walked towards you, closing in the space between you until it was practically insignificant. you could hear his heart beating.

he brings your face into his hands, not even realizing that you were crying until he gently wipes away the tears streaming down your cheeks. you look into him, his eyes pooling with oceans and oceans of emotions.

"i'm at my happiest when i'm with you, too."

a second kiss was shared that night— with a million stars watching over you.

gold painted canvas

the classic rich boy and poor girl love story but with less prejudice and more happiness

28 // make you happy

a/n: woah it took nearly 30 parts but at least it happened ;)) this took three days of utter procrastination but i hope you liked it jhhxjsjsjs

masterlist | next >>

taglist:

@joshva @salty-for-suga @starlightshua @itsjynop @riverdale-kpop @lokideadontheinside @aborivin @catallergieswillnotstopme @kingalls00 @hannahdinse8 @irrelevxntstxr @junglewoos @stopitvpls @lynniac @neolights @neocultech-baby @shailaaa @elmuchohottie @bat-shark-repellant @hufflepanda221b @svteez @sehunniepot

unable to tag:

@jaehyunsgoodthing @crtznstuff

[serena-stein]

THE JUNKYARD.

tagging → @radley-walsh​ @walsh-miles @brysonlahey @agnescohen @sophiapresmont, the heathers

location → the south side junkyard, new year’s eve.

Serena fell squarely into the category of players in Panic for the thrill of it, always looking for something to push herself harder and further than ever before. She was the kind of person who in any situation would rather grab the bull by the horns than run away. Her bucket list was extensive and gruelling; climb Everest, compete on one of those ninja warrior or survivor type shows, jump the Grand Canyon on a motorbike, so on and so forth. The point was that the physical aspects of the challenges were something she was looking forward to. The money didn’t matter to her, not in the sense that she needed it for herself at least. She was going to win it for Radley though, for his whole family that had all but taken her in when her own had let her down. If there was one thing that drove her it was injustice, and while SoWood’s parasitic digestion of the South Side seemed to have finally been put on an indefinite hold it didn’t change the fact that the Walshes had still lost their home in the cruelest way and she was nursing one hell of a grudge over it.

For the first time in a long time her thoughts had willingly gone to Bryson as she watched so many people scattering off into the dark and murky depths of the junkyard in pairs or groups. Despite the major dick era he’d been in, they’d been friends once upon a time... in the most tempestuous sense of the word anyway. Friend adjacent. Maybe it would be a good idea to use his knowledge of the place to her advantage. Teaming up with him was more desirable than Miles by far-- if it came down to the joust she knew for a fact she wouldn’t hesitate if it was Bryson she was up against, nor would he hesitate for her. Miles, however grown he’d proven himself to be, was always going to be someone she’d want to protect first and foremost.

Panic didn’t leave space to strategise though, it all had to happen on the fly, so the second her feet had hit the ground over the fence she was off and running. Bless her aversion to dresses and heels; all power to anyone who preferred that extra six inches but in the icy, muddy deathtrap of a junkyard? No, no, she was grateful she’d opted for something a little sturdier in her boots. They weren’t quite as trusty as her favourite sneakers, but at least she wasn’t teetering around on the surface area of a fucking toothpick.

Roaming around the junkyard felt an awful lot like those easter egg hunts she used to go to at the country club every year when she was a kid, dragged along by her mom in an attempt to get her in with the old money families. She knew the Chadwells, the Montenegros, Sweeneys, McKibbons, etc etc etc, but their games had never been hers, not when she was more like the people they played their games on. Perhaps that was the reason the challenge felt so familiar, like the Pleasantville type facade had been torn away and left with the reality of how cutthroat their town actually was. There weren’t any Chadwells or McKibbons or Sweeneys in the game-- it wouldn’t have been a shock to anyone if it were the Heathers and their boy toys trying to snatch back the glory and reverence they’d aged out of from high school and college. The big people always punched down, after all, and Rosewood was definitely the type of place to give big, huge, massive secret society energy. 

Now, that, she told herself, was something she was going to have to bring up with Radley later. They did love to discuss a good conspiracy theory. Mind you her plan for the night had been something more along the lines of losing her virginity, but hey, that was just a bullshit social construct. Deep diving into the corruption of Rosewood’s elite together? Now that was hot.

“Oh, shit, you weirdos made this too easy,” Serena scoffed a laugh of surprise upon spotting a medallion hanging in plain sight and doing a quick double take. Easy, she’d said, as if the crane dangling a medallion thirty feet in the air was as simple as her finding one in the dirt at her feet. As if she wasn’t already filthy and freezing from searching for hours in the dead of a mid-winter night while trying not to get herself taken out by a guard dog, some gun slinging maniac, or hell even one of her fellow competitors.

Clapping her hands together as if she’d just chalked them, she climbed her way up the ladder to the cockpit, pausing when she couldn’t decide whether to try her luck one of two ways: getting into the driver’s seat and trying to bring the arm down to the ground, or climbing up the arm to collect the medallion herself. Both had their pros and cons but there was no time to think, she could hear a commotion and screaming somewhere in the junkyard and despite her inbuilt stubbornness and bravery all she wanted to do was get the fuck out of there.

“Okay viewers at home,” she mumbled to herself, not even sure if the cameras had sound, and definitely not trying to think about how stressed Radley, Agnes, and Sophia must have been watching it all unfold. “Text 1 to 1800-PANIC if you think Serena should drive this bitch, or 2 if you think she should climb it...”

[m0onbean]

tutoring & loving

genre: enemies to lovers!AU, tutor!reader, popular boy!eunwoo, high school!AU, JEALOUSYYYYYYYY, flooooooof!!! angst but it’s okay because angst is wonderful, basically most of my favorite AU’s combined in one

warnings: jealous eunwoo and this AU is much more in depth than the others ones

words: 2.8k 

note: this is an old draft that has been sitting in my notes so i thought i would post!! enjoy and I HOPE  EUNWOO IS CASTED FOR TRUE BEAUTY!!!

as one of the top students in class, all of your teachers absolutely ADORE YOU

school is pretty smooth for you: you study well, pass tests, socialize with friends....... except for one little threat that makes your life so much more difficult... 

Cha Eunwoo.

not only is he one of the most popular boys in your grade, but unfortunately he’s also your seat partner for English and he’s the most annoying person you have ever met

you haven’t given him a reason to disrespect you!! ... okay maybe sometimes when you see him and his group of friends being loud in the hallways you shoot an icy glare....... ok and MAYBE you roll your eyes everytime he says smth dumb in the middle of class

but other than that??? completely innocent you are. but this man doesn’t seem to agree, as he seems to have made his life goal to ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF YOU. 

foe ex. you would be peacefully paying attention in class when suddenly you feel something kick your foot 

and when you look up, you see eunwoo “paying attention” to the board and feigning innocence

but you immediately know that he’s just trying to aggravate you because when has this man ever actually paid attention in class??

so you go back to listening when you feel ANOTHER kick and you’re like BITCHoh hell no so you kick him back bc we’re not all perfect human beings let’s be honest

and now y’all are kicking each other back and forth, and everyone can hear the desks shuffling underneath them

he also makes snarky marks constantly when you literally just breathed???

like you would sit down at your seat and he’d be like “Congrats, you’ve somehow managed to choose the ugliest outfit in the world to wear today”

and you respond, “It’s about time i have a turn, you’re wearing the ugliest outfit everyday” and then you just glare at each other until the teacher tells you two to snap out of it

on some days eunwoo will just flat out point out one of your flaws like if your hair is messy or if there’s a stain on your shirt

so one day your English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like Oh he’s just gonna offer me extra credit ... but instead of doing that he asks right off the bat, “i have another student that needs tutoring, are you willing to take one more?”

for the past month, you’ve already been tutoring a few students your teacher recommends to you. it’s easy money, especially since you’re saving up for college 

only this time, you can tell he’s desperate because he’s like “Please (y/n) he’s failing in English and misbehaving in class you’re my only hope!!”

and now you’re like Hawld on..... Why Is He Being So Desperate About This.... like you’re cool with tutoring..... what makes this-

the realization strikes across your face. 

who in this school would you would hate teaching??? who is failing in English??? WHO IS THE BANE OF YOUR EXISTENCE. look to: c. e. w.

 “ofdjoaaja i’ll give you gummy bears or something” he pleads. and honestly, if you were not so broke, you would’ve spat on his feet and walked out the door. but you need the cash, and you sure do like gummy bears.......

you gracefully relinquish, and your teacher gives you a proud smile. he then goes on to tell you that his mom requested extra help smh why couldn’t she have just hired a tutor i hate rich people.. anyways so yeah pls Help me

so the next day @ school you approach your seat and you see eunwoo sitting on his desk, talking to his friends until he notices you.. and he’s about to open his mouth to probs criticize your untied shoelaces but you interrupt him and are like:

“eunwoo i’m privately tutoring you starting today. Meet at the library after school.”

and he’s just sitting there, jaw dropping to the floor and you’re like :) He’s finally quiet for once... 

but little did you know that during class he’d be pestering you with complaints like:“why you??? is there anyone else that can do it???” “i don’t need tutoring.. i’m getting consistent D’s... not a singular F and it ain’t much but it’s honest work” 

at a certain point, you get so sick of his complaints and go like “your mom asked for you to be tutored!!! OK i didn’t just ask to tutor you, you dumbfuck.”

and once you mention his mom he just kinda shuts up... and stares at his desk for the rest of the period

ou notice this and recall the teacher telling you that eunwoo’s mom is a tiger mom... you keep this in mind because now you know that making his mom proud might be his motivation

after school, you wait at the library for him inside.. but a couple minutes pass and you’re like ? did he forget ? .  

and eventually an hour passes and you’re like nope he’s definitely ditching

and honestly,,, you feel a little betrayed and a little hurt ... but just when you’re about to leave you see him panting and making his way to your table nd you’re like ???????and eunwoo’s like “im so sorry i forgot...”

and you’re like oh? so you didn’t ditch? 

and he’s like No!! i just ... forgot. 

and you’re like well you little shit don’t forget next time i’ve been sitting here for an hour..but then he reaches something from his pocket and hands it to you and it’s a triangle sushi (it’s super crumbled too...) 

and he’s like “i got this to make it up” and you’re like flustered and just weirdly but pleasantly surprised he feels this bad about almost flaking

but you catch yourself slipping and go back to your annoyed tone: “uh-What the fuck are you on?? I-Wh-I’m not hungry. T-thanks tho.”

the first tutoring session is... awful to say the least. 

he couldn’t pay attention well and continuously complained and even tried to go off topic

like you’d be asking him what foreshadowing meant and then he’d be like “so.. where’s your family from (y/n)?” 33r*#$&(@$

after an hour of no progress you get frustrated and shut the textbook, about to call it a day

but just when you stand up eunwoo grabs your wrist 

and he’s like “where do you think you’re going?” you scoff and reply with “why do you care? it’s not like you want to be tutored right? well i don’t want to tutor anymore”

when you try to budge, you feel his hand still firmly gripping onto your wrist and you’re like “let go of me” until you realize he’s staring at you dead in the eyes

and in a quiet voice he sadly says “please don’t give up on me... i’m trying my best.” 

it looks like he’s about to tear up and that’s when you realize that you need to be patient for him... and need to help him because he’s trying to make his mom proud. 

when you sit down again, he gets a bit startled that you gave in so easily but regardless, a relieved smile spreads across his face. 

instead of going back to teaching, you conclude that you two should “break the ice” first so tutoring wouldn’t be you two just glaring at eachother

“breaking the ice” turns into a two hour conversation about random things or anything that comes into mind. 

eunwoo is really good at conversing and he’s good at filling in the awkward pauses and bringing up new topics!!

next thing you know the librarian is trying to shoo you guys outside since the library already closed fodjsoakal

when you get back home, there’s a stupid smile on your face and you’re like SHIT why am i smiling? why can’t i stop smiling???? get yourself together youRe just helping him you still think he’s annoying!!! ..but he has a breathtaking laugh... NO he’s still that annoying guy i hate

the rest of the tutoring sessions aren’t as bad at you thought.. eunwoo is actually pretty smart he just has the attention span of a toddler honestly.

you could be trying to read him an excerpt from The Great Gatsby and when it’s his turn to read.. it’s absolutely silent and when you look up like ??? 

you see him staring at you and you’re like “eunwoo.. it’s ur turn” and he’d be snapped out of his trance and be like OH! and ask you where you left off

and inside you’d be like.. was he.. staring at me?? (he actually was. you just looked so pretty reading out loud with such emotion)

after a couple of more classes with him, he starts immensely improving in class. he doesn’t really bother you anymore, but he stills throws some playful remarks at times. 

tutoring sessions seem to be effective, and you learn that he actually has a really.. really great personality

one day, you’re approaching your seat in English and are about to roast eunwoo as your daily routine when you almost bump into somebody

but thank god you have great reflexes so you managed to stop yourself... and when you look up you see a handsome face and you’re like. Oh.and he’s like smiling sheepishly and is like “sorry! i’m clumsy hehe” and you’re like Oh.. he’s cute

you smile back and insist it’s fine.. and now you’re both still standing there smiling at eachother because he’s like eye candy

he manages to introduce himself as Moonbin and you’re like I’m (y/n)!! and then his face transforms into recognition and he’s like “oh! you’re eunwoo’s tutor aren’t you?” 

and you’re like “Oh?? yeah how’d you know?”and he’s like “Ah.. i’m good friends with him. i heard your tutoring sessions are really helpful though. you’re super smart”

and on the outside you’re like :3 m-Me????!??! <3

what you actually say: ah, thank you. 

then he’s like “do you mind if you tutor me too?? i’m kind of struggling in English as well” and you’re like “oh sure!” it’s raining money girl

the bell starts ringing and he waves goodbye 

 you go to your seat with a wide smile, and when you sit down, you don’t notice that eunwoo is glaring at you 

so when you look at him with a smile on your face, he gets even more glary. 

you quickly wipe the smile off and are like “oh it’s you.”

but instead of insulting you back he’s like “why were you talking to Moobin?” and youre ???? “why CAN’T i talk to Moonbin? he was asking me to tutor him.”

when he hears that, he clenches his fists under the desk and is like.. “did you accept his offer?”

and you’re confusedly like “yes.. why would i reject him?”

not one to handle complicated feelings well, eunwoo just stands up, his chair loudly screeching against the floor. 

he wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Moonbin to watch you read lines from poetry so dramatically, smile whenever he makes a joke, text him reminders to study before he goes to sleep. 

but when you’re looking at him with such bewilderment in your beautiful eyes, your facial features frozen as you wait for his next move, he feels disgusting for having these feelings towards you. you’d probably be happier with Moonbin, who doesn’t have these nasty problems you’d be burdened with.

but before you can even properly react, he’s leaving the classroom and you look around, grateful that nobody was watching. 

and you don’t know how it happens.. but your feet control themselves and now you’re running after him, not caring about class starting already

and as you’re sprinting, so many scattered thoughts run through your mind. eunwoo.. jealous? does he like you? and even though you thought you were interested in eunwoo... there’s something about eunwoo you can’t let go about.and there’s no way you’re going to lose him.

so when you finally catch up to him you grab him by the arm and turn him around so he’s facing you... you hug him tightly.

and the crawling feeling that’s been stirring in eunwoo’s stomach suddenly dissipates

and bc you know that nothing will be the same after this, why don’t you just end it off strong? so you confess

you quietly tell him that you’re new to this... relationships have always been a new territory for you. liking somebody is new for you. “please don’t run off and let go of me either... i’m trying my best, too”

and he wants to push you off of him, tell you what’s best for you, and go back to being the annoying shit he once was. but your hug feels so nice and.. well.. maybe eunwoo can be selfish once in a while.  

falling in love with eunwoo is a gradual but addictive progress. when people describe falling in love, they would describe it as fireworks... exciting but risky. you would pretty much say the same but.. it’s so much more than just that.

it’s feeling tingly and funny when he randomly holds your hand or shows affection. it’s feeling enormously upset when you’re not around him or when you see him talking to somebody attractive. it’s feeling empty when he cuddles you because you want this to last forever, but you’re scared because you know it won’t.

you tell him this as you two are nestled on his couch, blankets jumbled across and TV playing some cooking show neither of you care about

he laughs and kisses your forehead which makes you feel that stupid tingly feeling again. 

“are you confessing that you’re in love with me (y/n)?” before you can try to smack him, he says “i love you too.”and with that.. you quietly respond “i love you...” 

and it feels so refreshing voicing that out loud.

eunwoo as a boyfriend would be the most blood rushing and adrenaline pumping feeling there is. he’s filled with so much energy that it’s never not fun around him

he would sneak you into carnivals, and take you on the ferris wheel where you two would probably makeout in the passenger car scksksoao

he’d also try to win you prizes at the arcade but.. he’s just so bad at playing it and either A) you end up playing and winning him a prize or B) he bribes the arcade owner to give him the prize

lots of PDA. lotssss of them. 

sitting next to eunwoo in English is a struggle now.. he’s always distracting you from the teacher. 

like you’d be taking notes but then you’d feel his head on your shoulder and now he’s straight up cuddling you in class

eunwoo always encourages you to have more fun 

“you’re always locked up in your room, studying.”

thus, he likes to knock on your door and enter the house with your parents’ delightful approval (because your parents love him. so much.) and go in your room and shower you with kisses while telling you that it’s time to stop studying because you’ve been reading the same chapter over and over again

your texts to each other would be littered with emojis that don’t even relate to the message. like you’d text “i stopped studying. are you proud of me 💃👒🐟🥐”and he’d reply with “of course my sunshine 🍣🎧🔑”

you still tutor him but your tutor sessions are a lot more longer now since they take place at either of your houses instead of the library LMAO. 

+ after tutoring him, you two would just cuddle and raid your fridges

when you meet moonbin again, eunwoo gets a little jealous again since he thinks that moonbin has a chance of snatching you 

but after kissing him and assuring him that you’ll never be “snatched”, he feels so relieved

eunwoo relishes all of the affection you give him. and he always gives you twice as much :’)

one day the same English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like “is there something you need?”and he’s like “.... ok so tell me how y’all went from kicking eachother to cuddling together in class 🤔🤔”

and you’re like “.. BYE I THINK I HEARD SOMEBODY CALLING ME”

the doors were closed... nobody heard anything... 

when you ask eunwoo why he hated you so much in the beginning, he tells you that he was just jealous of you. jealous of how flawless you did in academics and how you’re such a bright student + your glares were “extremely unnecessary” 

he also tells you that his older brother is already a doctor and has been so successful in everything so his mom always pressures him and compares them

and you’re like weaving your fingers together while telling him “don’t compare yourself. he is him and you are you.” 

and you pause.. and say “and i love you this way. i’m proud of you”

and eunwoo just immediately breaks down right there because nobody ever tells him that.. nobody is ever proud of him

falling in love with one of your enemies was definitely one of the best things that’s ever happened to you :)

[themissinggenius]

Part 2/2

Another conversation was coming, but it was avoided for the time being. Clarice showered in the guest bathroom; earlier, she had tried peering around the house—still mad but a bit embarrassed by the outburst. The door had been put back into place since she showered, and the water had been cleaned off of the floor. Hannibal was nowhere to be found. I really did it this time, she thought. Her body relaxed, and her face softened. She didn’t think it was appropriate to laugh, but the thought still surfaced, prompting a sad smile. I pushed around the violent centerpiece of the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. And he just cried. Shithouse mouse. The smirk dissipated as she ruminated further... She had hit him. Being a domestic abuser wasn’t just rude; it was boringly common. 

She moved the thoughts about violence to the side and shifted her attention to the cause of the scuffle. I don’t know what he expected. Hannibal knows the depth of my old relationship with Jack, as much as he hated him. He told me to say goodbye to my father, so why not Jack?

Your daddy and Jackie Boy aren’t the same, she reminded herself. At this moment, she was both grateful and resentful that her internal voice of reason was that of her husband. At least it was helping her see his view. Okay, so the relationship isn’t necessarily comparable. But why would he think I wouldn’t come home? Did he really read my intentions so incorrectly?

Clarice laid awake in the guest bedroom for hours.

~~

Hannibal Lecter relies on his intuition; it may just be his most famous attribute. On rare occasion, though, his cunning will fail him. On the day that Jack Crawford died, it most certainly did.

However, he doesn’t know that yet. Instead, he is reclined in repose at the seat of his harpsichord which he does not play. As he is off in one of the ill-visited quarters of the home, Clarice would be unable to hear the notes carrying from her position in the guest room; even so, he does not play. Hannibal gleaned a look of disgust and frustration from her earlier, and thus, he was certain his Starling would take flight by the morning for reasons known but difficult to accept. There is no reason for him to play.

Poised on the bench, he disappeared to his memory palace without struggle. The difficulty came when he walked down the halls, closing each door that had belonged to her. Hannibal contemplated as he walked: There is a certain symmetry to this—an appreciable one. Clarice’s hotheadedness had been a defining feature of hers, whereas he relied on coolness. He chastised himself for his own emotional outburst; it was unlike him to breakdown, and though he had allowed himself to become vulnerable to his wife, with her likely departure, he had to withdraw from all this fragility. He had to shut down. He had to be the ice to meet her violent fire. 

Thus, he closed her doors, sealing the emotional ties within each.

~~

Hannibal emerged at the sound of her voice. He had not heard her approaching in nor had he smelled her. 

A few paces away from the harpsichord, Clarice stood. Hannibal had been contemplating whether to address her as Clarice (Perhaps too informal at this point...), Agent Starling (But even when she goes back, she won’t be an agent...), or Miss Starling (Ummmm, I don’t like this one very much...) when she interrupted.

“Hannibal,” she started. 

“Ah.” He paused but spoke again before she could continue. “I see you’ve finally decided to join me. Had enough tossing and turning up there, or did you come down to use me as your personal punching bag again?”

“No, no. I just think-”

He cut her off again. “You know what I think, Ex-Special Agent Starling?” Oooh. That works, he thought. “Well, actually I wonder. I wonder if that was how Daddy took care o’ Mommy when she wouldn’t shut ‘er yap.” His imitation of her accent—which she had long abandoned—made her flinch. “If Ma didn’t have dinner on the table at five-o-clock, yes siree, she’d be in some kinda trouble. And boy, does Clarice still wanna be like her Daddy! No matter what,” he emphasized with a drawl, “she’s gonna stand by him. It sure do seem that way tuh me!” Hannibal smirked, and his face betrayed no warmth.

The room had felt colder to Clarice when she had walked in. She had expected him to be upset, but she hadn’t expected this. The woman paused and considered the implications: her musings were correct. He really did misread her, and now he was trying to drive her away. Well fuck that. 

In their years of marriage, the couple had picked up on a few of each other’s traits. For one, Clarice was not going to allow a bit of intimidation break her. He came close to doing so in Baltimore, but he would not again. She steeled herself, adopting a bit of his icy demeanor.

“No, Hannibal. My father did not hit my mother. I think I would’ve told you by now, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away; rather, he just pursed his lips and smiled. 

Then, he began: “As you know, I don’t try to predict you because it often proves fruitless.” He looked off before setting his gaze squarely on her. “However, considering these... outbursts of yours and the contempt plain on your face, I have bought you a ticket back to Arlington in time for dear Mr. Crawford’s funeral. For my safety, I will also be leaving, but not to Virginia. I know how much you must miss Jackie; please, give him my regards when you go. Maybe if you scream and pound on his grave hard enough, someone will hear and they’ll finally find you... Three years after you were reported as a missing person.” Lecter’s eyebrows shot up, and he shrugged. “Though I doubt you’ll be reinstated, as you haven’t kept your resume up to date. It will be no problem for you, though, Clarice.” He gave her a kind, patronizing look. “You’re a very smart girl. When you rediscover that the FBI has no use for your intelligence, try showing off your trophies from the firing range. Maybe even tell them about your skills in hand-to-hand combat... I could write you a glowing reference!”

Hannibal was perfectly still in his seat with his wife just beyond him. He waited patiently for her to break. He wanted no end to be left untied when she left. Your turn.

“I see you still try and lick tears after you’ve tired of tasting your own.” Clarice took a slow step toward him. She needed to crack his facade quickly. “Fortunately or unfortunately, I have no intention of moving back to the States. I find that I’m quite happy right here.”

Only she could have noticed the slight twitch of the doctor’s right eye upon this admission. And she did.

Starling inched closer. “Now, about this ‘contempt plain on my face’...” She mirrored his voice and flat expression; her imitation was even better than his had been. “Did ya happen to consider that it’s because you just tried to tear me apart—unsuccessfully, I might add? Let me tell you what I know, Doctor.” She hammed up the formality in her tone. “I know you’re not comfortable feeling worried about another person. I know that you felt vulnerable when I was gone, and I know you didn’t like that.” 

She paused, remaining collected. She raised her voice a tad for this last bit. “Lastly, I know that you ASSUMED. And if there is one—just one!—good thing that goddamned Jack Crawford taught me over the years,” she laughed, “it’s that, when you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME. Trust me, baby, you did just that. And despite what your intuition told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She did it. The true stoic’s face had broken, and Hannibal the Cannibal sat, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth and then closed it. She continued.

“I’m sorry that you misread my motivations. I spent yesterday reflecting on how I had gotten to this point, and I had come home feeling glad. I was planning on going upstairs to find you, drawing a bath for the both of us, and then dancing later on in the evening. Your assumption got us a bit sidetracked, though.” Looking down at her watch, it was 2am. Holy crap. She focused back on him and noted that he was still unmoving but appeared less rigid than before. The room felt like it had finally warmed up.

Clarice took a last step towards her husband. Now above him, looking down, she said, “I am sincerely sorry for hitting you, Hannibal.”

Finally, he stirred. “Clarice, I have not once so much as laid a finger on you in anger...”

“I know. Ironic, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

His wife smirked at that, and he returned the favor. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Anyway, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. You know what else won’t happen again?” She held his chin and spoke softly. “You doubting us. I’m with you for the long haul. Where the hell did you even think I was going?”

“Ummmm. To be candid, I’m unsure of what I thought your plan was. I assumeddddd,” he looked up at her teasingly, “that you were leaving because of a change in heart.”

“My, Dr. Lecter, you didn’t have every one of my steps planned out before I could even think of them? What have I done to you?”

“I can now definitively say that you bring out the worst in me.”

Clarice laughed and sat down next to him. “Crying? And worrying?” She was feeling more relaxed, placing her hand on his leg as she started laughing harder. “Why am I not surprised that you consider that to be Hannibal Lecter at his worst?”

Her husband just smiled back at her. She saw his cheeks blush almost imperceptibly, which then prompted a further fit. It wasn’t long before they were both laughing.

“You had better... go back... into that memory palace of yours... and open up my doors ASAP,” Clarice ordered while catching her breath.

“And how did you—?”

“You were sitting on that bench for quite a while before I called out to ya. Try not to forget about me so soon, huh?”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” Never again, he added silently. “But I must ask... Would I be incorrect in assuming you still want to dance?”

Clarice smiled widely. Hannibal shifted in his seat and began to play.

[punkcupcakestyles]

Sober Up

May we never go to hell - Part 1

Quick note: this is a second part to Sober Up, a story I wrote as a part of the PYPChallenge put together by the fantastic @for-fucks-sake-h​ @oh-honey-styles​ and @andwhenshesays​. Here’s the Masterlist! If you have a chance please go and read, cause there are a lot of fantastic stories and give them all much needed love!

tw: drug use mention.

You were a fucking pest, he knew that much. 

Why would you think it was a good idea to hang out with Steve, who was fucking wanker on his best days?

Why did he keep looking for you in a room full of people? 

Fuck you, he had better stuff to do, like going back to icy cold beer, which always made him wince, and to the pretty brunette by his side. She smelled nice and smiled sweetly at him as if she actually liked him. She never rolled her big, brown eyes to him or sneered at him. 

Granted, some of those he had earned, but still, she was a lot nicer than you. 

But she didn’t kiss like you, with that mix of hunger and wonder that made him daydream about your lips. Her touch didn’t raise goosebumps on his skin and her laugh didn’t bubble up from the depths of her tummy, making him feel like a funny guy. He craved you, fucking hell. 

But you were a pest, he kept reminding himself. He would rather go with annoyance than to admit there was a pang of pain in his chest. 

If only he could stop looking at you. If only his stomach didn’t drop to his feet when he saw the way you smiled at Steve as he dropped a small plastic bag on your open palm. 

“Fuck her,” Harry cursed under his breath as he took another swig of his drink. Why would he have to worry? “Fuck.”

“Is there something wrong?” The pretty girl batted her eyelashes as she tried not to sound too eager. There’s something with men and eagerness that doesn’t mix well, or so her friends kept telling her. 

“I need to go to the loo,” Harry told her, smiling softly as she turned just a bit pink around her cheeks. She was fucking adorable, he had to admit that.

“Oh,” she muttered as she looked at him getting up. It would’ve been nice if he had kissed her, she thought. Maybe she would kiss him when he came back. 

The initial thought was nice: to let you do whatever the fuck you wanted to do. It was what you always did, anyway. So, he would go to the loo and he would go back to his girl to get the hell out of there. He would tell her that the throbbing lights were giving him a headache. 

But his feet had different plans and he found himself walking toward you even without a command. If something bad happened to you, he’d have to kill Steve anyway, and God knew he would do poorly in jail, so this was just him taking care of himself. 

You almost screeched guiltily when you turned around and found Harry standing behind you, with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his lips curled into an amused smile. You stared at him for a bit, at the way the lights of the club played tricks on his creamy skin and noticed how your tummy bubbled warmly as if you were just one step away from home. You hadn’t felt like that since that morning. 

“Styles,” you heard Steve’s voice ringing in the air, as you suddenly realized he hadn’t just disappeared into thin air. No, the world was still there, it was just lending all of its light to Harry. “I’ll wait for you outside.” Steve’s hands made you shiver as they pressed to your shoulders and you tore your eyes away from Harry so he wouldn’t see you as your brain shed to a million pieces. What were you thinking anyway?

“Thank you, mate, but I have plans,” Harry smirked. “Raincheck?”

“Fuck off, Styles. I meant her.”

“Oh, well, now I’m disappointed,” Harry smiled brightly as Steve rolled his eyes on his way out. Harry’s attention slowly turned back to you, and you felt flush covering your cheeks as he narrowed his green eyes. 

“You really need to pay more attention to girls,” you quipped, out of habit, and just to give yourself something to do. “They keep getting away from you.”

“What’s on your hand?” He asked, breathing deeply as he decided to ignore you. He knew what you were doing, he knew you, after all.  

“Fingers and nails,” you shrugged. 

“Show me,” Harry said seriously, and even when you couldn’t see his face, you knew he meant it. 

“Why? Do you miss them?” You smirked, tilting your head as you looked at him mockingly. You had looked down at your cards, and this was the hand that you had decided to play: the flirty one. If Harry were to admit that he indeed missed you, it wouldn’t have been too bad of an outcome. 

“I get by just fine without them,” he said to your disappointment, as his hand reached for yours and he brought it up to see the little bag with the tiny pink pill on it. It was so small, it had to be harmless, right? “Wow, babe, I think you’re being a bit ambitious,” Harry mused as he took it and put it in his back pocket. “Wanna fuck Steve while high?” The words sound almost sinful while coming out of his lips, a new cadence you didn’t know they could have. You followed the way his lips moved and felt the air getting trapped on your lungs as he walked a step closer. The tips of your fingers felt almost electric and you wondered what would happen if you were to touch him right then. Would he shiver? Would he burn?

“I don’t wanna fuck Steve while sober,” you muttered.

“Then we should start a little smaller,” Harry offered and you rolled your bottom lip into your teeth and bit lightly on it.

“I thought you were gonna tell me off,” you whispered, narrowing your eyes at the unexpected turn of events. 

“A little party never killed nobody.”

But not with Steve, fuck him. 

***

You wouldn’t have imagined that your night was gonna end up with you and Harry hiding away in your room, as you both lay on your bed. You had dreamed about it, but never really thought it would happen after...that day. 

You had been lied to about getting high, there were no fireworks, no heightened feelings that made you think like you were flying. You just felt tired.

“Steve!!” You yelled, suddenly remembering the boy you had abandoned at the club. Steve was a funny word to say: Ssssssteeeeevffff. “We left him!” 

“Did you want to bring him here?”

“Not really...maybe he’ll find your girl and they’ll get together.”

“I think she deserves better.”

He was already looking at you when you hastily turned to him. You had spent the last 3 weeks trying to remember every bit you hated about Harry, but it was difficult to do so when he was staring at you and his soft lips curled into a sweet smile.

“Does she deserve you?” 

“Probably, I’m a fucking catch.”

Your eyes closed slowly in agreement and you felt the bed dip as Harry rolled to his side, and a waft of his breath fanned over your skin. You opened up your eyes to peer up at him and the first thing you noticed was his pink-colored lips, so close to you you wouldn’t have to make that much effort to kiss him. 

“I don’t feel anything,” you finally said. “I think it was expired.”

“Are you sure?” It was more a warning than a question, cause his hands were already traveling down your dress and his fingers were lighting little fires on your skin as he trailed them teasingly up your spine. Your lips parted as if to protest, but the only thing you managed to do was to inhale sharply as he smiled at you. 

Your eyes fell closed once again, enjoying the shivers that came with his touch, and you let your tongue roll across your bottom lip. You couldn’t figure out if the fire that was already burning in your tummy was coming from the high, or was just a natural result of Harry’s touch. You were inclined to think it was the latter. 

The next thing you felt was his lips, as they found the crook of your neck and nibbled softly on the delicate skin. His breath was warm and it made the little hairs on the nape of your neck stand at attention, as your fingers curled on the cotton fabric of his white shirt.  

Harry was slow and careful and the tips of his fingers felt like little electric balls as they trailed up your waist and brushed up your ribs to meet the fabric of your bra. His tongue licked a stripe on your neck and his nose pushed up to your jaw as he made his way to your lips. 

The second it took him to push himself off the bed and spread his legs on each side of your body to hover over you was too long and leaned forward, as the air filled with striking bolts and bubbles of energy about to burst. His usually green eyes were now multicolor shining grey and blue and golden and even purple as he looked at you and he bent down to kiss you, slowly and lavishly, exploring the taste of your lips as if he wanted it itched to his brain to remember on a rainy day. 

As your fingers went to his neck to hold on to him, his own went back to exploring whatever was under your dress. Every little touch felt brand new and comfortably familiar at the same time and your legs trembled as he broke the kiss and looked at you. 

Harry’s breath was heavy, tightening on his chest as your hands made their way down his torso and toyed with the button of his jeans. It was a decisive moment. If you did what every inch of your body was screaming you to do, there was no turning around. 

“Sit up,” Harry commanded with a hoarse voice that sent shivers down your tummy, to add to the already pressing fire that had built between your legs. It never occurred to you to ask what he wanted, cause truth be told, you would do whatever it was. Your eyes followed him as he went to sit against the grey and plush headboard of your bed with his legs wide open. “C’mere,” he smiled, patting the space between his legs.

Under normal circumstances, you would have never crawled to him. But these weren’t normal circumstances, they never were when it came to him. So, you made your way to Harry, getting on your knees with your hands primly settled on your lap and your lips slightly parted, just in case he wanted to keep kissing you.

His fingertips burned on your skin as he curled them around the fabric of your dress and pulled it slowly over your waist. You felt yourself flush as you raised your arms for him and the dress fell onto the floor in a mess. You didn’t even need his touch at that very moment, cause the way he looked at you did things to you. 

You settled down between his legs, with your back pressed to his chest and his arms around your waist, lingering over your tummy as he dipped his head down to kiss on your neck again. You closed your eyes, reveling on the way his hand brushed over your skin until it pushed down the fabric of your bra and he could close his fingers around the swell of your breast, while his other hand traveled down your stomach until it pushed past the fabric of your undies. 

You quickly pushed your panties down your legs and took your bra off, feeling yourself glow in pride as he offered you a satisfied smile. His hands didn’t miss a beat, and soon, he was pinching your nipple between his fingers, just as he brushed over your slit teasingly, until he allowed his heart finger to slide between your folds and rub lightly on your clit. 

“You’re fucking soaked,” he said and his words rose goosebumps on your skin, maybe because he was kissing on your neck and the warm breath from his mouth felt velvety and rich over your skin. 

You were dripping, actually, and you looked at him as waves of pleasure jolted up your body and he made sure he took over every one of your senses, with his kisses and his touch, and the tortured moans that elicited out of his throat whenever you moved too close. 

“Fuck me,” you begged as a new shiver ran up your legs and settled in your lower tummy. “Please.”

His smile was mischievous when he looked at you and his hot breath fanned over your skin as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, just as two of his fingers slid between your folds, pumping slowly into you so you could feel each one of its ridges. 

“Like this?” His words felt heavy against your skin, dragged up with the same intense feeling that was quivering in your tummy, tightening like a little ball of pleasure and fire. 

You could already tell, the high that came from this was gonna be all-consuming, demanding, and overwhelming. Cause you could feel him on every inch of your body, the echo of his kisses reaching down to your curling toes and the fire from his touch making you rock your hips against his hand so you wouldn’t miss a second of it. 

“Fuck, please, Harry, I wanna cum around your cock,” you begged one more time, as you slid out of his arms so you could lie down on a pillow and he leaned forward to trap your nipple with his pink lips. He nibbled and licked on it, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud until a cold shiver ran down your spine and you grunted in sheer pleasure. 

You were so close, so fucking close, that the fact that he couldn’t budge and fuck you raw was only a minor inconvenience. Your eyes scrunched closed and your nails dug into the sheets until they were just a tight-fisted ball in your hands. 

“Fuuuuck,” you laughed, letting your heels press to the mattress to anchor you to a reality that was slipping away in kaleidoscopic blues and purples. 

Usually, after the high came the kisses, a bad habit, no doubt, that you had picked up along the way. The kisses and the insincere digs, that was a fun habit. So there was no one to blame when you expected just that: for Harry to settle in your bed for an hour or two before he absolutely had to leave. 

Your eyes widened as he got up as you calmed yourself down, and he combed his long fingers through his hair before he looked at you with somewhat guilty eyes. At this, you sat up and covered yourself, as you looked out of the window so you wouldn’t have to see him leave. 

A kiss would’ve been nice. 

***

There are sacred things in this life, like Sundays and brunches, and Rose lacked respect for all of them. 

You were supposed to be having a dubious mimosa and a plate of ridiculously expensive eggs, dressed to the nines, while still managing to look like you didn’t put much effort into your outfit and wearing natural makeup that no one would’ve guessed you had spent an hour on. Instead, you were wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white top that would rile up your tummy every time you raised your arms, with a drumming headache from the night before. You should’ve gone with Steve.  

“Hi,” Rose smiled widely as she sat next to you and you looked at her with narrowed eyes, silently accusing her of the fact that you were out of bed. 

“What?” You snarled in response. 

“Your mission is to trap Harry.” Her smile had turned devilishly and now that she had caught your interest, you offered her a devious smile on your own as you nodded with satisfaction. “His legs are too long, can’t have him going around.”

The game was both simple and stupid and fun and violent. It was some sort of rugby, only once you trapped someone, you would have to stay put, while the other person tried to free themselves so they could continue playing. The last one standing won the game for the whole team, and the losing team would have to buy the other one lunch or pay for the drinks at the next party. At first, you would always play on gendered teams, but after a while, you decided to spice it up and form mixed teams. Harry was always on the opposite teams of yours. 

It was a good way to keep your ass active, you would give her that. 

Rose was on a mission of her own: She had broken up with her boyfriend, the leader of the other team, and she wanted to kick his ass and make him buy her lunch. She would choose someplace expensive, of course, and ask for dessert. Chocolate lava would be very nice, add double ice cream and a second serving, it’d be perfect.

There was a new skip on your step when you stood across from Harry and you tilted your face as you looked at him offering him a sweet smile that he didn’t buy for a second. 

This time, he was wearing a pair of black running shorts paired with a white ratty shirt and a black snapback that made his curls look messy and trapped mercilessly. He looked gorgeous, and your blood boiled when you remembered how he had left you alone the night before. 

“You do know you’re going to be bald when you grow older, right,” you told him in a low voice, so no one else would hear your exchange. 

“Then I’ll think of the times you begged me to fuck you,” Harry replied in the same tone, as his lips curled into a smirk. His eyes were just as tired as yours and you could bet he had barely slept the night before. Had he continued to party after he left your room?

“Oh please, I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my life.”

“Really? Where have I heard you say “Harry, please, I need to cum, lemme cum, please.” Or “fuck my pussy harder, baby,” then? I think I’ve heard it somewhere.” He was enjoying it, the fucker, leaning forward so only you could hear him. 

“Your ass is mine, Styles.”

“I would say it’s the other way around, love,” he smiled sweetly, just as Rose rang an alarm on her cell to let you know the game had started. 

This time you had to rescue a caramel teddy bear right from the center of the field and take it to your designated goalposts, marked with bright pink hula hoops.

Harry would never hurt you, so you had that to your advantage, or so you thought. He was swift and careful as he picked you up, and you yelled in surprise, looping your arms around his shoulders as he carried you to the ground. Actually carried you, with his arms around your waist to soften the blow when he laid you on the soft part of the grass and he softly took your hands in his, to pin them above your head to make you behave. Not one of your hairs got out of place as a result. 

Your eyes widened as Harry untangled himself from you and straddled you as he pinned you down. Your fingers fell on his thighs, and you looked at him as you tried to catch back your breath. Traitor heart, why was it soaring in your chest?

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, truly worried that he might’ve been too rough. 

“Of course you did! You just threw me down to the floor!!!”

“I did not throw you,” Harry rolled his eyes. “But you play dirty, don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Huffs and puffs were all that you managed to do, wriggling under him to release yourself from his hold. Death stared down at you as Harry dragged his eyes down to you, pupils slowly turning darker. “Stop moving,” he growled. It took you a second to understand, but as soon as you did you laughed, shimmying your hips to spite him. “I’m sensitive, stop it!” 

“You could’ve fucked me last night, don’t try to make me feel sorry for you. Lemme go and I’ll stop.”

“Styles, hold her!!!” you heard Ed’s scream, just as Harry turned to glare at his friends. He had you, what the fuck did Ed want?

Harry’s first mistake was to let one of your hands go, so he could shield his eyes from the inclement sun. His second mistake: He should have never pinned you down. 

“Harry, baby?” you called for him, with a sweet smile spreading on your lips as you rolled your body with purpose until Harry thumped down on the ground and you quickly climbed over him. He huffed a sorrowful sigh and you were pretty sure he hated you for a second, you could tell by the way his eyes darkened. They were so pretty yesterday, with all of the twirling colors dancing in them. 

His lips were way too close to you and you could feel his warm breath against your skin. You could kiss him, there wasn’t much he could do about that, but you didn’t, looking into his eyes instead as you both held your breath. 

Just as he had done to you, you pinned his hands with yours, leaning over him so you could reach above his head. Your hips were pressed to his, and he bumped you up like a rag doll when he jerked his knees. You rolled your hips, smirking when Harry sucked in a deep breath, trying to control himself. But there was no much use to it, cause you could already feel his outline pressing to your center, hard and thick, just as you remembered him. 

“Harry!!” you hissed.

“Stop moving your fucking hips...please.” The heat that came from your body, the familiar aroma of your perfume, the warm puffs of your breath fanning on your skin, it was all a bit too much for Harry. He grunted when you rolled your hips again, your devilish smile telling him you enjoyed how much power he had surrendered. “Do you miss me that much, babe?”

“You’re one to talk,” you snorted. “You got hard as soon as I touched you.”

Harry could easily free himself, you both knew that. You weren’t a delicate flower, by any means, but he was a lot stronger than you. And he didn’t even try, lying still as you tortured him. Every breath, every tiny movement, added to the fire that was fogging his brain. Soon, he was gonna run out of blood, cause every drop of it was rushing to his hips. You witnessed as his eyes went from a bright shade of green to dark emerald. Harry whimpered, barely loud enough for you to hear, and you stopped moving altogether, letting his hands go as he heaved a breath. 

“Wanna know why I left?” He finally asked. “You were high. I didn’t want you to wake up and regret it.”

“Please,” you snorted. “You had your fingers deep in my pussy. Just say I fucked up and you don’t want me anymore.”

“Who said I don’t want you?” He asked, jerking his knees again to make you look at him. “You’re a literal pest that doesn’t leave my mind.”

“Romantic,” you bit back, not giving yourself even a second to consider what he had just said. “Next time I’d pick Steve, I’m sure he won’t leave me begging.”

“He won’t fuck you right either.”

“Don’t know about that.”

“WE WON, YOU FUCKERS!” Whatever it was that he was going to reply, was lost in the moment, cause Rose’s ring tore through the air in triumph. You almost had forgotten about the game, and you both looked to the field to watch the distant figures of your friends. Rose’s was jumping and screaming, while she rubbed the teddy bear she had just scored on Ed’s face, laughing as he looked at her with murderous eyes. 

It was over, there was no need for you to continue sitting on Harry’s lap. 

“I…” You started, licking your lips as you gave yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. “I need to help Rose before Ed kills her.”

You went to get up but lost your balance as Harry’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back to him. 

“You’re not going out with Steve,” he had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, looking at you so seriously it was almost a command, an order. There was no way you could go out with Steve cause Harry had said so. 

“Let’s do something, I’ll go ahead and fuck him, and I’ll report back to you, for science,” you offered him with a smile, right as you untangled yourself and jumped up to walk to your friend. 

Once again, a kiss would’ve been nice. 

***

The room was dark, but that didn’t matter, cause you had it mapped out in your brain. You had snuck so many times to it, it couldn’t be any other way. 

“Harry?” You whispered, wondering if you weren’t acting like the dumb white girl in every single horror movie, entering a dark room without switching the lights on first. So you did that, hurriedly and half scared. 

The lights blinded you for a second and you had to blink the little white dots away. When you recovered, you saw a wad of sheets on the bed and you walked to it to see Harry under it. His nose was stuffed and red and his lips were parted as he breathed heavily. 

“Ed’s looking for you,” you said as you crouched in front of him and you couldn’t avoid but to brush your fingers over his forehead to feel his burning skin under your tips. “Jesus, you’re burning up.” You jumped to your feet to inspect the boxes of pills on his nightstand. A wet cloth and a spray bottle filled with water were lying there and you took it, brushing it over his forehead to help a little.

“I don’t feel so good,” he whined, in a rich accent that made him sound like a posh, British toddler. He was covered up to his shoulders, but still, he shivered. “Stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. Scoot.”

You weren’t missing much, anyway. Only the freshly baked brownies you had made, extra-gooey and chocolatey, to share while you watched one of your favorite movies. You were going to eat pizza, which was your reward for a very difficult week of clean-eating. Not much, anyway. 

Harry moved over almost sorrowfully, and his head lay on your lap as soon as you sat down next to him, your fingers pushing through his hair to massage his scalp. He bubbled some words out but you couldn’t understand them, and soon, he was asleep again. 

You played with his hair a little bit more, until Harry was sound asleep and he snored slightly, scaring himself awake. He was so cute, your heart fluttered in its place.

“Bad dream?” You asked him. 

“A bit. Stay the night? You can go early, so no one sees you?”

“Do I have to go early?”

“No, please stay.”

[cloud9in]

Human Sacrifice

Summary: The sudden events of the Zeta House Bacchanalia leaves Zoey a victim of humiliation, and Bea has her own input on the event.

 Tags: I’m going to tag the Zoey stans I know: @samanthadalton @jaxsmutsuo @this-person-is-busy @penda-bear @steal-your-moment @tyrils-star @satrinadia (If you want to be removed or added on this list in future writings let me know)

Word Count: 3.6k (Yeah it’s a lot oops)

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST, Mild Language, Depressing thoughts, also some blood.

Pairing: Badgirl! Mc x Zoey

 Author’s Note: I wanted to write a more realistic version of Badgirl! Mc for the events of the Bacchanalia. I hope you hate her by the end of this.

~

Zoey’s POV

 “I will never let you forget that this is who you are.” 

Poppy’s words struck me like I had just been the victim of a tragic car crash.  Completely surrounded by the noise and utter chaos, but isolated in the clutter. 

My legs began to weaken from the embarrassment, there was nothing to hold on to steady myself. There was no one to catch me before I could collapse and sob my worries into the cold, hard concrete floor of the place I would ironically call hell. 

Bea? Where is Bea?  A faint remembrance of her crossed my mind before I could only focus on my rapidly soaring heartbeat. Any second now it would pop right out of my chest and onto the ground, allowing another part of me to be exposed to the selfish monsters, who took no shame in degrading every part of my being. I wanted to shut my eyes. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up, realizing it was all some nightmare. But all I could do was stand there and hold back the dam of tears that threatened to surge out through my eyes. I’ll be damned if I let Poppy see through my act, see through the poorly concealed cracks in my perfect persona and take advantage of it. She has already ripped me apart publicly, and if there is something that I will cling on to as I walk out of this den of vultures: it will be my pride.

The anger rushed through my veins just as quickly as the shame left. I couldn’t feel it, but I knew my nails had dug so deep into the skin of my hand as I tightened my fists. That would definitely leave a few scars, but not as deep as the mental scars that have rose from the dark depths of my mind. There is nothing more that I want in the world than to forget everything. If all of my flaws had to be exposed in this moment, I can only hope the tears that spill any second will submerge me as well.

~

Bea’s POV

 “Zoey doesn’t need me looking after her. Plus, I already told her this is the only reason I came. She’s gonna love this credit card thing.” 

 I snapped a pic of Poppy’s credit card and uploaded it to the T, courtesy of a sweet message to follow along. It was only after a few seconds of allowing myself to wallow in self satisfaction that I felt the need to go save Zoey. With a final smirk of appreciation I dashed out of the room, knowing in the back of my head that the queen of all bitches was going to fall, hard. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, a blinding spotlight revealed the silhouette of Zoey surrounded by the cretins of Belvoire University. A sensation of guilt invaded the pit of my stomach as I looked over at the mugshot of my best friend, displayed for all to see. The confusion overtook me for a split second before I sprinted towards the wires, tearing its hold from the sockets. 

 “Hey, stop!”

 Whose voice was that? Who could stand there and enjoy what was happening to Zoey? 

I felt my cheeks furiously heating up, like I could explode any moment, and all that would be left is a pool of lava. I couldn’t refrain from scowling as I twisted my head in his direction

 “Eat my ass, Liam!”

 Yes that’s right Bea, a big verbal FUCK YOU to him will solve all of your problems, you idiot.

 I growled as the last of the cords are unplugged from the walls and the room goes silent. My eyes immediately fall on Zoey who shares a heartbreaking look with me, like she’s reaching out for me. She needs me. But even as I acknowledged that, I stood in place and watched as tomatoes were slung in the direction of my best friend. There wasn’t a spot on her body that hadn’t become a canvas to the rotting food, in fact the picture painted before me was quite the opposite of her usual appealing image.

  I wanted to get a closer look, I wanted to scan every part of her. I wanted to see the pain in her eyes...maybe I wanted to be the one who took it away. But all of those bottled up feelings meant nothing when Zoey raced through the front doors, her legs dragging the rest of her body, using every last bit of her strength to not break down right then and there. I wanted to run after her. I wanted to comfort her and hold her, and tell her that I’d fix this. But what could I possibly fix? What does she expect me to do? Maybe this will all blow over, I mean this is Poppy, who doesn’t she embarrass? I surely have been a victim, and it’s not like I wanted this to happen. I mentally patted myself on the back for uploading the credit card pictures to the T, this is going to be the sweetest revenge. That bitch will never see it coming. 

And she didn’t.

 I smirked confidently as I watched Poppy’s hastily retreating form, madly whispering into her phone to the great Piers Sinclair. Her father is gonna have a fucking field day with her, I thought. Rolling my eyes, I let out a chuckle. Who knew playing Poppy’s game could be so….fun? Exhilarating? This was only just the beginning of a feud that will end with my reign. A standing that I could not obtain without Zoey.

I knew that I’d have to go after her, and it’s not like I didn’t want to. But what would I say to her? 

 C’mon Bea, you’re going to talk to her. You’re going to ask her what that was all about. You aren’t going to push any boundaries. You’re going to show her that you care...deeply.

 I knew that Zoey had stolen my heart from the minute she grabbed my hands and pulled me into her world. I knew there was no escape, not with her. She was my world and I wanted so badly for her to trust me, to trust that whatever we’re trying to accomplish here at Belvoire, would bring us closer together. I had to go get my girl.

 After all, who else would comfort her if not me? I was the only one who cared enough.

~

Zoey’s POV

 I felt the remains of rotten tomatoes in every crevice of my body. The residue was not enough to distract me from the chills that invaded my spine, and it wasn’t because I was trudging with chunky tomato bits in my underwear on a freezing evening. My whole body felt numb, where was I going? Who do I go to now? I kept walking though, as if I’d encounter a solution to my complete annihilation. Maybe if I didn’t stop, I’d burn out eventually. Maybe I wouldn’t realize it when I hit the ground. Maybe I’ll wake up and be back home, safe and sound.

Sudden footsteps caused the thoughts in my head to jumble. As I turned to face the figure behind me, a rush of heat filled my lungs as I gasped, reaching for her. 

Bea. My Bea.

I wanted to cry out, to tell her how I felt. But in that moment, her arms offered me safety, the kind of warmth that resembles a thick blanket shielding a fragile body on an icy winter morning. I never wanted to let go. 

 “That was…so horrible Bea. No one...was-”, I shook violently against her chest, and she held on tighter. “No one was supposed to know about the...shoplifting thing!”

 Bea held me close as I struggled to breathe. I pulled my head back, careful not to ruin her outfit any more than I had, and looked into her eyes. They were concentrated on every inch of my face, her eyebrows creased with worry as she studied the remains of tomatoes that were dripping slowly from my head. I had the urge to pull away with shame, I….I didn’t want her to see me like this. 

I was Zoey Wade. But I don’t know who I am now. I don’t know what Bea thinks of me now. Everything I worked so hard for meant nothing in the end because of my past. I can’t help but feel like my past defines me, no matter how hard I struggled to lock it all away. 

 “Poppy is so vile for putting you on blast like that. What was that all about anyway?”

 Bea’s gaze was intense as she turned toward the house with a glare. I could feel her arms start to loosen its hold on me, and much to my dismay, I let her do it. She glanced quickly at me before facing the ground, taking a subtle breath and looking back up. 

 “I know it’s no consolation, but at least my plan worked. I got her credit cards! Her credit cards are going to be totally shot after this..”

 Bea’s eyes were creased with delight but I could see the pity radiating off of her dark features. I wanted to ask her what she was talking about. What credit cards? What does that have to do with me standing in fucking tomato waste? 

Bea reached out to caress my shoulders again.

 “That whole ‘Human Sacrifice’ thing is disgusting. I had no idea this is what she would do to you-”

 ...Suddenly the red liquid dripping down my chin didn’t resemble tomato remains to me anymore. It looked a lot more like blood, I felt as if her words psychically hooked onto my skin and tugged at it harshly. My vision began to blur, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing this time, and I pushed her back roughly. 

My legs started to shake violently as I tried to suppress the anger boiling within me. But that was impossible. 

 “Wait, to me? Bea, did you know she was going to do this to me?”

 This betrayal hurt more than anything that Poppy had said to me. I felt my throat start to close, was I even breathing anymore? Is this real? I stood there trembling in my own sorrow as I waited for Bea to respond. I prayed that this was all a misunderstanding, that she would use that charming voice of hers to melt my pain away. To reassure me that she cared for me and wouldn’t have allowed Poppy to have done what she did. But…I was terribly wrong. 

~

 Bea’s POV

 “Zoey I swear I literally just found out while in Poppy’s room. I came to warn you but I….I didn’t have enough time.”

 I’m not sure why Zoey pushed me out of her arms so suddenly, but all I knew was that this was not my fault. I wanted to lash out at her for even thinking of blaming me for whatever happened tonight. Does she not know how much I care about her? I’m standing here aren’t I? 

I let the feeling bubble down slowly before speaking again, this time looking straight into her big brown orbs, red and swollen with tears. 

 “Zoey...I had gone up there to go through with our plan….I  saw the cards and figured I’d have time to do both. But...that’s just not exactly how things turned out.” 

 I expected her to understand. How could I have possibly known that they’d throw tomatoes at her? I came here to find dirt on Poppy, we both knew that. I completed our objective, we were one step closer to taking down Poppy. 

Why couldn’t she acknowledge that? 

I tried to speak again but I was cut off by the menacing step Zoey took in my direction.

 “Not exactly how things turned out? What the hell Bea?”

 I didn’t think I’d find myself outside in freezing temperatures, being pulled by the jewel of my choker by my best friend. At least not in the way I had hoped for.

I felt Zoey’s hot breath dissolve across my face as she pulled me towards her, eyes seething with fury that you’d probably only see in hell. My lips quivered with surprise for a second before I was sent sprawling back onto my ass, the concrete scraping vigorously against the back of my bare legs. Leave it to me to get in a fight with my fucking underwear on.

I quickly sprang back up, brushing specs of dirt off my already bruised up legs, before scowling at her. 

 “What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t know why you’re so pissed at me. It’s not like I’m the one who put you on blast back there!”

 “But you knew about it, and instead of telling me, you went ahead and did what you thought was more important, didn’t you Bea?”

 “...Zoey we had a plan. Which I managed to do by the way! I thought you’d be happy but it looks like you’re fucking ungrateful!”

 Zoey’s eyes practically jumped out of her sockets as her jaw dropped open. 

I didn’t mean to say it...I didn’t. But a part of me felt that I was absolutely correct, it’s clear that she didn’t feel the same way though.

 “I’M UNGRATEFUL? Bea are you out of your goddamn mind?! Why the fuck would I ever be happy about this situation. It seems like you can’t understand why I feel the way I feel with that thick head of yours.”

 My body jolted forward as I proceeded to grab onto her once more, I wanted to hold her and make her listen to me. She could not leave until I explained. But all Zoey did was back up even farther, holding her arms out to stop me. Tears burst out from her crinkled eyes and she just stands there and lets it flow. There was no more holding back, as mascara started to mix with her tears. My heart broke at what was unfolding before me. 

I couldn’t even embrace her. I felt a hot spark of blood run through the veins in my arms, and my fingers started to tingle. It wasn’t long until they were practically numb. I felt numb. Was it from the cold? Or something else? I couldn’t tell you.....

 “Zoey...you know that I’d never do this on purpose, you know this isn’t me. This… this is all a big misunderstanding. Please listen to me-”

 When I tried to catch her gaze, every last bit of hurt that covered her face had completely disappeared. She looked empty and cold, something I never wanted to see again. Had I caused this?

 “That’s the thing Bea...I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re not the same Bea who I watched walk onto campus and win the hearts of so many people...including mine.”

 I whipped my head up to stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. 

...I won her heart?

 A few beats of silence passed before I spoke again, my voice hoarse from all of the emotions I refused to display. I am stubborn, yes. I wanted to hear it from Zoey, I wanted her to tell me that she adored me. I wanted to know it was real, that it was never one sided. But it seems like the universe was always meant to be against me.

 “Zoey...I-”

 “No Bea. Just stop...I can’t do this right now.” Her shoulders freeze up as she exhales, a puff of breath glistening in the air as she wraps her arms around herself to shield the cold. “You aren’t my Bea...I don’t even think you realize how much you’ve hurt me, and that lets me know where you stand with...us.”

 She was wrong. Dead wrong. I did everything in my power to help her. To help us. It wasn’t fair that we would have this conversation in the middle of a fight, but I wasn’t going to let her end this. She will not walk away from me like this. I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore, any longer and I’d bite it clean off.

 “Zoey are you serious? That is not true! How are you going to admit your feelings and then walk off like it means nothing to me? Do I not deserve to have a say?”

 Zoey stood up straighter, the words that came out of her mouth were bitter. If I stood any closer to her, my skin would burn from the venom she spit.

 “The only thing you deserve to feel is the fact that you ruined every last bit of hope that we would be together. You don’t deserve me Bea...I can’t believe I didn’t realize that from the beginning..” She scoffs and shakes her head at me sadly, wiping the tears off of her face with her painted arms. 

 “What the hell does that mean? Zoey you-”

 “NO BEA! Can’t you see it? It always has to be about YOU. You’re the center of attention right? Ever since you started hanging out with Poppy’s lackeys...you’ve changed. I think you forget about the reason you have such expensive clothes on your back. How people only hang around you because of your status. But I’m not them Bea...I think you need to realize that I was the only person in all of Belvoire who wanted to know the real you.”

 “What are you saying Zoey?”

 “...You’d be nothing without me. Not here at least. This school never took your kind well, hell not even my kind.”

 A sharp laugh left my throat as I processed her words. I’d be nothing without her? This must be some kind of joke! How dare she even admit that?

She’s not wrong Bea. I stepped closer, ignoring the voice in my head and scoffed bitterly as my body trembled with adrenaline.

 “Is that right?”

  I raised my voice higher,  whipping my arms out towards the sky. “You hear that everyone? Me, Bea Hughes, would be nothing without Zoey Wade..” I lowered my hands and jabbed my finger in her direction. “You got a lot of nerve sayin’ that, am I correct? You know...Poppy was right about you being a social climber. That’s why you hung around me right? To use me?”

 “I don’t have to prove my feelings to you-”

 “But isn’t that what you said? I mean you’re right, I am popular. Is that what the problem is here? Is it jealousy that you feel? Keep in mind, before I waltzed on this campus you were a nobody. So the truth is Zoey Wade...you’d be nothing

 I jabbed my finger accusingly at her chest once more

 “without“

 Twice more

 “me..“

 A streak of blazing fire sent me stumbling backwards as her hand connected with my cheek. I clutched the tender area and reeled back to see blood staining my palms from the small cut her ring gave me. I totally deserve that don’t I? 

I turned to see Zoey inching towards me and I braced myself for another hit, but it never came. 

 “...Don’t ever speak to me like that again.“ Zoey shakes her quietly as she stares at her feet. Her voice vibrated loudly yet broke as she spoke, “I thought you were different...but Poppy has changed you. This game has changed you.”

 “Oh please-”

 Zoey snaps her head up to look at me. “Look in the mirror Bea, do you even recognize yourself anymore? I doubt it...you’re so blinded by this hunger for power that you ruin everything in your path. You’re becoming just like...” Her next words felt like a thousand needles were embedded in my palms. 

 “No...you are Poppy”. 

My breath caught in my throat as I stood there in shock.

If you had told me that my ex best friend would be telling me those exact words, I’d laugh in your face and throw a party celebrating my Poppy-free persona. But was she right? Had I tarnished everything I once cherished because of this obsession I have with my enemy? A thousand thoughts were running through my mind and I didn’t shake out of that trance until I realized that Zoey had already started walking away, shedding tomato off of her on the way.

Before I could stop myself, I shouted forcefully

 “Hey! Who do you think you’re walking away from? Zoey we’re not done!”

 Maybe that was the ignorance she was trying to tell me about..

 Zoey turned around one final time, her eyes full of grief for only a second until hardening, “Bea...do yourself a favor and humble yourself. Don’t forget where you came from...because trust me, they will never  let you forget.” 

~

 I let out a shaky breath as I watched Zoey walk away. 

I find it ironic how this tragedy has allowed me to realize how corrupted I’ve become. The picture of her walking away will forever be embedded in my mind, but one thing I can attest to is that Zoey never deserved to be dragged into the mess I made. 

 So I watched her walk out of my life, because maybe that’s exactly what I deserved. Maybe it’s what she deserved too. Only a fool would allow her to leave that night, and I was the biggest fool that ever set foot at Belvoire.