#at least last year when my other roommate would set an alarm earlier than he wanted to actually wake up

[supercantaloupe]

my roommate is one of those people who will set numerous alarms for herself to wake up in the morning like up to an hour or two before she Actually needs to get up but sleeps through half of them (only to snooze/reset it for a couple of minutes before the next one rings again). and like if that's what you personally need to wake up in the morning whatever, But our rooms are adjacent and the walls are thin and i wake up Very easily to the sound of any sort of alarm (even quiet) which is to say It wakes me up like an hour and a half before i intend to get up and it prevents me from fully falling BACK asleep and it pisses me right the fuck off so bad

[heshoes]

She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)

Harry

Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.

I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.

"Michelle?!" No answer…

"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”

I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.

Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.

Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.

"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”

I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.

"What time is it?”

"Half- Oh-“

Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I  swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.

"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”

Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.

"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”

"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“

I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”

"That- that was a girl.”

“Yes."

"She was your friend?”

“No."

Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a  red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.

"But, you were...and she…"

"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”

"She was putting her clothes back on.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.

"You didn't have on many clothes…"

"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”

Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.

"You had sex with her?”

Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.

"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”

"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”

"Since when?” I was just so shocked.

"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.

“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”

I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.

I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.

"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”

"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.

"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”

“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.

"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”

Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more. 

I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"

"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”

She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.

"So...What's it like?”

"What's what like?”

"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.

"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“

"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.

"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.

"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”

We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.

"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”

Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.

"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”

I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.

By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”

"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”

"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”

I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know.  I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.

"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.

"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.

“Chelle!"

Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.

"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.

“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”

I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.

"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”

"What do you mean?"

"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"

"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.

I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.

The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.

"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”

"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve." 

Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.

"Whatever. What's happened then?”

"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”

"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.

“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.

"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"

"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"

I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.

"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I  laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.

"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”

"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”

I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”

"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.

Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.

"It's okay, Harry.”

"What is?”

"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.

"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“

"Like shit it isn’t."

"I'm busy anyway.”

"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.

"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”

Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.

"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”

"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”

"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”

"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.

"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.

"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."

I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.

"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”

"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”

“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”

"One drink.”

“Sit this one out.”

"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."

“No."

“Please?"

“No."

“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.

"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”

Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."

[earnestly-endlessly]

I love your fic recs! Do you have any with Protective!Erik?

Protective! Erik is one of my favourite tropes so I have a TON of fics to share with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Protective! Erik fic recs

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – madneto, Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

In Sound and Silence – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is assigned to care for the special patient in room 301.

How Not To Meet Your Future Boyfriend – ikeracity

Summary: Erik punches Charles in the face the first time they meet. There isn't anywhere their relationship can go from there but up.

Forgotten – FuryRed

Summary: Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones – valancysnaith

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first. One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Warning: Sensitive material, domestic abuse and dubious consent

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

If We Met Differently – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik wasn't the only mutant 'taken in' by Shaw, Erik learns this the hard way when a new mutant is dropped into his cell. They manage to escape together, but things aren't all roses after that. Erik has a score to settle and needs to make sure Charles is safe.

The Color of Love (Character Swap Remix) – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Nobody sees in color until they meet their soulmates. When your soulmate dies, your vision returns to black and white. What happens when your soulmate only dies for a few minutes?

Omega Online – miss_aphelion

Summary: Newly imprinted Charles is having trouble dealing with his overly protective alpha—so in desperation he seeks advice in an omega chat room. Emma Frost is more than happy to help, Raven isn't helping at all, and Erik can't stand to be out of touch with Charles for more than five minutes at a time.

Cannot be Contained in Words – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe) 

Summary: Crime syndicate head Erik Lehnsherr travels to London on business, where he meets oxford student Charles Xavier. Their liaison spawns into a years long transatlantic affair, kept apart by Erik's work and Charles' studies,which Erik chronicles in photographs. When distance ceases to be an issue after four long years, the overlap between Charles' past and Erik's work create a whole new set of complications.

A Pertinent Reminder – ikeracity, Pangea

Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget that getting involved in Erik's mob business isn't all fine dining and sex on yachts. There's nothing like taking a couple of bullets to remind Charles of the reality.

Part 3 of the Associates series

A Dangerous Game – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Part 6 of the Associates series

You don’t choose the thug life (except when you do) – Anonymous

Summary: Charles is kidnapped and discovers that Erik, the Alpha he has been dating for the past few months and is head-over-heels for, is not just a wealthy businessman but actually the head of a syndicate.

He is rather unhappy about this discovery and Erik gets an earful for lying to him. Then Charles is kidnapped again and really, he hopes mating Erik won't result in weekly kidnapping because he has a thesis to finish and papers to grade.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

Round the Corner Waiting – swoopswoop

Summary: When things go so spectacularly wrong during a relationship, Charles - now a single dad - almost makes a big mistake, only to be stopped by a mysterious man who just might turn his life back around.

Hide Your Fires – swoopswoop

Summary: As the sole heir, Prince Charles, had no problem with the roles and responsibility that would come with ruling a kingdom. Though he was the only one who did not see a problem. After years of being shuttled back and forth between kingdoms, his Regent hoping he would find a match more suitable to being King, he is finally sent to Genosha. Though the path has never been less clear than the one to a foreign kingdom with no ties to his native land.

Shaw’s Captive – swoopswoop

Summary: Magneto killed Shaw, it had to be done for the sake of mutant-kind but what he wasn't expecting to find hidden deep with Shaw's complex was a man held captive, obviously tortured, that somehow made Magneto turn into Erik.

Erik now has a potential human in his citadel as he continues the war with the human's.

Mind’s Eye Blind – Sperare 

Summary: As far as Erik is concerned, if you want to scare a person into talking, you have to present him with something more compelling than what he stands to lose...

And there is nothing in the world more compelling than Charles.

Chipped – Rosawyn 

Summary: Magneto's fledgling Brotherhood find Charles Xavier in a mutations research lab as an apparently willing subject for an experimental suppression device.

Okay, I Feel Better Now – Harleydoll

Summary: The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.

Five Nights in Nuremberg – FuryRed

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Notes: Unfinished but an excellent read. Highly recommend it.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

My Barbaric Darling – baehj2915

Summary: Erik is revivified caveman. Charles is the anthropologist(?) taking care of him. This is as ridiculous as it sounds. Romcom misunderstandings and prehistoric wooing ensues.

Swimming with Sharks – Not_You

Summary: Erik used to be a shark. Now he's not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

Eucalyptus leaf of my soul - kageillusionz, ourgirlfriday

Summary: Zookeeper Raven at Taronga Zoo keeps having ideas on how to capitalize on interest in the zoo mascots, Koala Charles and Drop Bear Erik (the only drop bear in captivity!), who have captured the hearts and minds of the public. First it was to introduce prospective mates (It’ll generate attention, Hank. People are perverts. They’d love to see koala porn.). This idea was not effective the first through fifth attempts, as Erik and Charles seemed to show at best polite interest in the newcomer before resuming whatever marsupial debate they had going. However, the resulting lesbian koala orgies did indeed generate interest. Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Koala program, which was successful, as the public showed great interest in hugging Charles, and Charles seemed to enjoy being hugged.

Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Drop Bear program, and Hank, not for the first time, wished he had a flask handy.

Notes: Yes, they’re Koalas, yes they’re adorable, and yes, Erik is super protective even as a Drop Bear.

[timelesslords]

Can u pls write a percabeth fic where Percy and Rachel are dating and percabeth are best friends and they end up spending the night together and it's been a week and they don't know how to tell Rachel and Rachel being bitter ?? Pls

This was kind of out of my comfort zone in terms of what I usually write lol but I tried my best!! I imagine this as like a mortal college AU :)

send me a prompt!

“Beth, you can’t walk home like this,” Percy said, exasperated.

“I’m fine! I’m hardly even drunk,” Annabeth said, trying (and failing) to quash the butterflies in her stomach when he called her Beth. Percy, having been her best friend for almost a decade, was the only person in the whole world who was allowed to call her that. He only pulled it out in rare situations, and every time he did Annabeth would swear her heart skipped five consecutive beats.

Not that he could ever know that, of course. Now felt like a more precarious situation than most-- she’d come over to his dorm so they could watch a movie together, and had ended up curled up together on his bed around his laptop. In fairness, his dorm was tiny and there was nowhere else to sit besides his bed, but if Annabeth imagined really hard she could pretend that it had all been completely intentional, and he was sitting this close to her because he wanted to.

“Hardly?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. And, fine. Annabeth had had… an amount to drink. A non-zero amount, some might say. More than Percy, and she had a way lower tolerance than him. She was buzzed, sure, but not buzzed enough to walk back across campus to her own dorm.

“I’m fine. It’s barely twenty minutes,” Annabeth protested. She started to stand up, but Percy gently tugged her back into the bed. She should have put up more resistance than she did, but, well. Who could blame her.

“It’s also three in the morning and you’re drunk,” Percy said, “Come on, just stay the night.”

“Stay where? Grover’s bed?” Annabeth asked, repressing giggles at the thought. It wasn’t really that funny a thought, but, well, she was tipsy.

Percy’s roommate was gone for the night to visit his girlfriend, leaving his bed empty. Grover was a cool guy, but he also had a weird tendency to leave soda cans just about everywhere, including in his bed.

Percy just rolled his eyes. “No, here.”

It took Annabeth a few seconds to realize exactly what he was saying.

“In your bed?” Annabeth asked, hesitantly.

“We’ve been sitting on it together all night,” Percy pointed out.

“Yeah, but…” Annabeth trailed off.

It was different. She knew it was different. And frankly, any other time she’d be absolutely delighted that Percy was offering that difference, but there was also the issue of Percy’s girlfriend. Percy’s girlfriend, who he’d met their freshman year and hit it off with despite the fact that Annabeth had been in love with him since she knew what love was. Percy’s girlfriend, who was in another dorm on campus not ten minutes away, not here but also not not here.

“But what?” Percy asked. There was the tiniest bit of a smirk on his face, and Annabeth shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“You know what,” she said. Maybe it came off a little more seriously than she’d meant, but he didn’t seem to care.

“It’s not like we’d be doing anything,” Percy said. Annabeth tried not to feel hurt at how foreign the concept of “doing anything” seemed to him in relation to him and her. But she didn’t have any right to feel any type of way about that, because she and Percy were just friends and Percy had a girlfriend who was not going to be happy about Annabeth spending the night in his bed, regardless of which activities did or did not take place there.

“Yeah, I know, but its just… I don’t know, don’t you think Rachel will be mad?”

“You’re staying here because you need a place to crash. She can’t be mad about that.”

“I’m pretty sure she could find something to be mad about,” Annabeth muttered, mostly to herself. Percy heard her though. They were sitting so close their shoulders were touching, so it would have been a miracle if he didn’t.

“Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor. She can’t be mad about that,” Percy said, actually making to get up like he was about to lie down right there and then. It was Annabeth’s turn to pull him back onto the mattress.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re not sleeping on the floor in your own dorm room,” Annabeth said, “Besides, she’d just say I kicked you off your bed.”

Maybe Annabeth should’ve kept that last bit to herself, but she’d never been very good at hiding her feelings about Rachel. Percy sighed, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it.

“Well I’m not letting you sleep on the floor,” he said stubbornly, despite the fact that Annabeth hadn’t even suggested it. She had to bite back a laugh at the indignant look on his face.

“Percy, I was never going to sleep on your floor. I was going to go home,” she reminded him.

“Well I’m not letting you do that either,” he said, “So I guess you’re stuck in bed with me, unless you want me to spend the night on concrete.”

“You’re so goddamn annoying,” Annabeth grumbled.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” he asked. His expression brightened considerably at the prospect, and Annabeth had to physically force herself to calm her heart rate down.

“Well apparently I don’t have a choice,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes, praying to every god in the universe that she wasn’t blushing.

“Right,” Percy said, putting on some exaggerated confidence, “Obviously. So am I taking the floor or the bed?”

Annabeth knew he would sleep on the floor in a heartbeat. If she told him that she was uncomfortable being in his bed with him, he would gladly spend the night on cold concrete in the middle of winter in a dorm that had, frankly, terrible heating.

But she wasn’t about to make him do that. And if she was honest with herself, being in bed with him was the opposite of uncomfortable.

“The bed,” she sighed. Percy grinned triumphantly.

“I knew you wouldn’t make me sleep on the floor,” he said, and Annabeth finally let herself laugh.

“Yeah, because I told you so twice.”

“I think it’s because I know you so well, actually,” he said, finally closing his laptop that had been playing the movie earlier, and setting it on his bedside table. They’d turned the lights off earlier, and without the soft glow of the computer screen the only lights in the room were the faint street lights outside.

The bed was just a regular old twin, with not much space for either of them. That was why they were touching so much, Annabeth reminded herself. Just that. No other reason. He just put his arm around her shoulders because it was more comfortable that way, that was all.

It was late, and Annabeth was drunk, so falling asleep was easy. But she’d be lying if she said Percy didn’t help with that too.

***

It’d been a week since Annabeth had spent the night at Percy’s dorm, and they hadn’t talked about it at all.

She’d woken up the next morning completely hungover, and also with her and Percy’s limbs completely tangled together. The bed they’d shared was small, but it wasn’t that small.

Percy, of course, had acted like it was nothing. He’d teased her about her bed head and she’d half-heartedly teased him back about his morning breath, and then she’d packed her stuff from the night before and made her walk of shame back to her dorm. Except it wasn’t even a proper walk of shame, because they hadn’t actually done anything.

He hadn’t brought it up since, like it had been no big deal at all. Annabeth wished she could be so lowkey about it, but it was the only thing she’d been thinking about that entire week.

They’d already planned to meet up at the end of the week again, only this time in a group setting. A group setting meant Rachel was going to be there, and Percy might think their little sleepover hadn’t been a big deal, but Rachel was definitely not going to share that opinion. Annabeth was honestly dreading facing her so much that she considered bailing at least ten times. In the end, she decided that she had to just suck it up— she was going to have to face Rachel at some point, it might as well have been now.

All that to say Annabeth was a little surprised when she showed up at the party, only to find Rachel acting completely normal towards her. She was irritated towards Annabeth, but that wasn’t unusual. Rachel was always irritated towards Annabeth, and Annabeth was always irritated towards Rachel. But Rachel wasn’t pissed at her like Annabeth expected her to be. She wasn’t even not pissed, she was downright cordial.

All it took was one look at Percy for Annabeth to confirm what she already knew. He hadn’t told her.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, grabbing Percy’s arm and pulling him down the hallway. Rachel was going to be pissed at her for that, but Annabeth didn’t care. Percy followed along without complaint, not even bothering to shoot Rachel an apologetic look.

The hallway was empty, or as empty as a hallway at a college party could be. The music was loud enough to cover up their conversation, anyway.

“Did you not tell her?” Annabeth asked, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. Percy immediately looked guilty.

“You don’t know that,” he said, as if everything about both of their demeanors hadn’t given it away instantly.

“Of course I do, she wasn’t absolutely furious with me,” Annabeth hissed. Percy looked, if possible, more guilty than before.

“Okay, fine, I didn’t,” he admitted, “But what’s the big deal? It’s not like we did anything.”

And there it was again, those two little words and the way he said them, as if anything happening between the two of them was an impossibility. It felt like a dagger straight to the heart, but Annabeth ignored it.

“I dunno,” Annabeth said, “I mean if I was your girlfriend, I think I would want to know.”

Percy had choked on his drink halfway through her statement, and was already coughing before she could finish it.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked, alarmed. Percy just shook his head.

“Fine,” Percy managed to choke out, “I’m fine.”

“Am I going to have to heimlich you again?”

“Hey, you promised you would never bring that up again,” Percy said, pointing an accusing finger at her as he coughed again, clearing his throat a few times for good measure, “Besides, I don’t think it works for soda.”

“Fair. But don’t change the subject.”

“You changed the subject first,” Percy accused, in a not subtle attempt to change the subject once again.

“Because I thought you were choking, dumbass. You have to tell her.”

“Why?” Percy practically whined.

“Because the fact that you don’t want to means you know she’s going to be mad about it,” Annabeth said.

Percy groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“Why are you so smart?” he asked. It sounded like a complaint, even though she knew he didn’t mean it that way. It sure felt that way, though.

“‘Cause one of us has to be,” Annabeth sighed.

If Annabeth were smarter, she would’ve never agreed to spend the night to begin with. But it was way too late for that now.

They went back and joined the group, but Annabeth knew Rachel was staring (bordering on glaring) at her the entire rest of the night. She couldn’t even really blame her. She was going to be a hell of a lot more mad at Annabeth once she found out the reason Annabeth had pulled Percy away to begin with.

The very next day Annabeth was in her dorm room, trying to finish a project for her architecture class. It was due on Monday, but she’d been so distracted the entire week that she’d barely even made a dent in it at all. It wasn’t coming together the way she wanted to and Annabeth was three seconds away from snapping her pencil in half and throwing the whole draft away. Before she could, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Annabeth glanced down at her phone, but she didn’t see any texts. Maybe it was the RA doing an inspection, or maybe Piper had forgotten her key again.

But when Annabeth opened the door, she found Percy standing in the doorway. He spoke before Annabeth could even open her mouth.

“So, I told her,” Percy said, with absolutely no context. He knew she didn’t need it. Annabeth found herself gripping the door so tightly she thought her fingers might break.

“You did? What happened?” Annabeth asked, trying not to sound frantic. Why was he here? Why didn’t he just call her? What if Rachel had made him swear to never talk to her again and he was just here to say goodb--

“She asked me to tell her with 100% certainty that I didn’t have feelings for you,” Percy said, impossibly calm.

If Rachel had asked him that, why was he standing in Annabeth’s doorway?

“And?” Annabeth said, voice small. Her heart was practically pounding out of her chest, but Percy just shrugged.

“And, I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t?” Annabeth repeated, just to make sure she had heard him correctly.

“Nope,” he said, easily, too easily, “To be honest, I couldn’t even give her like, 1% certainty, but that would’ve felt a little rude to say.”

“So…” Annabeth trailed off. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. It didn’t make sense in her brain. Percy had feelings for her. And he’d broken up with Rachel, which meant— which meant—

“I think now is the part where you tell me if you like me back,” Percy said, interrupting her thoughts. He was smiling though, like he already knew the answer.

Annabeth did not currently have the mental wherewithal to form words. Thankfully her feet did the thinking for her, closing the already small distance between them and kissing him like she’d wanted to do for years.

“So I take it that’s a yes?” he said with a grin, when they finally broke apart. Annabeth was pleased to see he was a little breathless, at least.

“Shut up,” she laughed.

“Gladly,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again.

[ichorizaki]

truth or dare! ━ b.k.

꒰ ❛ genre ❜ ꒱  — fluff, crack-ish

꒰ ❛ pairing ❜ ꒱ — bokutō kōtarō x gn!reader

꒰ ❛ warnings ❜ ꒱ — vulgar language, mentions of alcohol, drunk!reader, bo being a lovely dumbass<3

꒰ ❛ word count ❜ ꒱ —  1.8k

˚ ༘ˀˀ  ꒰‧⁺ a text from sol —  ✎ˀ my first fic !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! no thoughts, head empty, just exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! happy bornday to my bobo bb<33 + mia [ @samuthots​ ] wanted me to tag her so i am doing so   n e r v ou s l y-

-`,✎ synopsis!  ; ♡ drunken confessions of love aren’t always received well, which was why bokutō kōtarō was surprised that his crush had reciprocated his feelings.

Bokutō Kōtarō knew how to handle his liquor well. He was an athlete after all, so it was only natural to be one of the few somewhat sober people among a sea of absolutely shit-faced college students. He didn’t know why Kuroo invited him to this godforsaken party. It was something along the lines of someone knowing somebody who knew somebody. Though he may be a little slow in certain areas, he wasn’t dumb enough to not realise that it was just an invitation to another frat party.

He would much rather be somewhere else at that moment. Maybe somewhere with his best of friends where he could get absolutely hammered and let loose with no inhibitions at all. Sure, he loved crowds but not ones that were too drunk to even hold a proper sentence. His wish was granted by none other than the same person who invited him to the party and also left him on his own (on accident or not, he didn’t know).

So there he sat in a circle, playing a mashup game of Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle with his beloved friends and a very, very attractive you. There were several drunken people in the circle, some that he didn’t recognise, but he didn’t need to complain when he was sitting right across you.

Your name is the only name that set his heart on fire and made his stomach perform weird flips. Your smile is the only smile that made his face flush pink and stumble over his sentences. You were the only one who could make him nervous just by being there because you were just that stunning to him.

Akaashi always had the prettiest friends, but you were the one that stood out to him. Finding out that you were an angel both inside and out was pretty much one of his greatest accomplishments in the history of everything.

Everyone in his inner circle was well acquainted with his hopeless crush on you. New Instagram post? Screenshotted and sent to his group chat to fawn over you. Double-taps the picture countless of times like as if he could give more than one like. But comment? Oh, he could never. You smiled at him in the hallway on the way to your class in the next building over? Screams at his group chat over how adorable you are with his heart ramming dangerously against his rib cage. You guys bumped into one another on campus? He’s never going to wash that shirt because it made contact with you.

He knew next to nothing about you besides your major and that you were Akaashi’s friend. He should probably ask you on a date, but he was too scared because you two were practically strangers. But then again, he wouldn’t know if he didn’t try, but–⁠

“Earth to Bo!”

He forced himself out of his little reverie and stared back at an even more flushed you. How many drinks have you had?

“Dude, did you not hear Y/N?” Kuroo snickered teasingly. “Too busy daydreaming about them when they’re literally right in front of you? C’mon, dude.”

“Kuroo, shut your whore mouth.” He flipped the bedheaded male off.

“Bo! Eyes on me, I asked you truth or dare!” Your words, albeit slightly slurred, came out as a cute little whine that sent his heart pacing at an alarming rate. Wait, you asked him? His eyes looked down at the unopened bottle of Coke with the tab pointed at him. “Bo. Truth or dare?” You repeated once again.

“Uh . . truth!” He stammered, which garnered giggles from a slightly drunken Akaashi and the rest of the group.

“Okay!” You exclaimed cheerfully with a childlike grin on your face. How could you be so cute? “Truth—do you wanna kiss me?” Does he want to WHAT?!

“Wait– dare.”

“Eh . . then . . then . . I dare you to kiss me!”

“You– huh!?” His brows furrowed, lips jutting outward in a confused pout as he tilted his head to the right ever so slightly. Of course he wanted to kiss you. Of course he wanted to hold your smaller frame in his arms and literally steal your breath away but you were drunk. You were drunk! He couldn’t do that to you; you probably didn’t know what you were doing or saying.

“Kiss! Gimme– gimme k—iss, Bo.” Your whines were louder and they were a melody against the jarring harmony of Kuroo’s dying hyena laughter.

“Y/N, I can’t possibly do that when you’re this drunk,” he sullenly sighed. A loudly whimpered a “Why not?” with those damned puppy eyes of yours and he almost felt compelled to pull you into his laps and make out with you.

“Bokutō-san,” Akaashi, the graceful voice of reason, shifted in his spot next to him, “Isn’t this clear indication that your feelings for Y/N are reciprocated?”

“Akaashi!” It was then his turn to whine out in protest. He could still hear your drunken pleas to want to be kissed by him and how he was cheating by flouting the game. “I mean, yeah, but I’m not gonna kiss them when they’re that drunk. I want our first kiss to be memorable.”

“Bobo, that’s sweet, so let’s go on a date right now!” You cheered happily, catching him off guard as you threw your body onto him.

“Sweetheart, it’s two in the morning.”

“Time is a concept and you’re so cuddly,” you swooned, shamelessly burying your face deeper into his chest. God, you were too cute. He felt his neck burn up as Kuroo’s ridiculous laughter began to envelope the whole group in a heavy blanket.

So the both of you stayed like that for the rest of the game; him, not moving an inch so you could feel comfortable, and you, who had peacefully dozed off halfway through the game in his arms without a kiss from him.

People began to leave after lounging for a while at Kuroo’s dorm. Bokuto lived in the same building, just a few floors down, so it wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for the sleeping you in his arms. If he were brave enough, he would bring you to his dorm knowing that Akaashi would offer his bed for your sake. He wanted to do the responsible thing and tuck you into your bed in your dorm, knowing that you’ll be safe there, but the problem lies therein: he hadn’t an inkling of an idea where your dorm was.

You looked so peaceful in his arms that it almost felt painful for him to let you go. He couldn’t stop staring at your sleeping face, your lush lips parted the slightest bit and he could tell that you were dreaming from the way your eyeballs shifted beneath the soft skin of your eyelids. Were you dreaming of something nice? Were you dreaming of him and you, living a fantasy that would make you forget the realities of the embarrassing scene from earlier? With you sound asleep in his arms, he felt like sleeping too.

“Bokutō-san.” He looked up to see Akaashi squatting before him with all of you three’s belongings on his person. “Their dorm access card is in their bag. Their dorm is near ours’.”

It took everything in him to not scream out loud. Instead, he chose to muffle his screams and all that came out were confused, strangled noises from his throat begging for the younger male to elaborate further. All this while, you were so close within his grasp but like sand you just fell between his fingers! Well, it kinda made sense since your classes took place all the way across the campus. But still!

When Bokutō lifted you in a bridal carry as he stood up, he had his eyes on you the whole time, praying to whatever gods who would heed his call to not let you wake up. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt your sleep.

True enough (not that he doubted Akaashi’s words in the slightest in the first place) you resided close to the both of them. You were living four doors down to them, closer to the lift lobby. Akaashi knocked on the door experimentally to see if your roommate was awake before doing anything else. Thankfully, your roommate was awake.

“No wonder Y/N wasn’t picking up any of my calls,” they heaved a sigh of relief, slicking their short dyed hair back. The tattoos that adorned their pale skin and piercings on their ears and lip would have thrown Bokutō off if it wasn’t for the Cinnamoroll pyjama top they sported. “Thanks for bringing them back. I was dead worried.”

“It’s no problem,” Akaashi answered for the both of them. Your roommate led them in and directed the two to your room, and Bokutō tenderly tucked you into bed. He went through the trouble of asking your roommate to fluff up your pillows and opening up the windows for fresh air while he removed your socks and any outer layer of clothes. He was ready to leave until he heard you mumble his name in the midst of your dreamlike state.

“Oh, so you’re Bokutō.” He turned to your roommate, unable to say anything but choke out a strangled “Yes?” On their way out, your roommate told them that you wouldn’t stop talking about him whenever you could. He would respond under normal circumstances, but he didn’t want to risk you waking up. It would be a lie if he admitted that it didn’t inflate his ego. When Bokutō and Akaashi arrived at their shared dorm, the former was able to sleep with a peaceful smile on his face knowing that his crush liked him back.

Bokutō thought he wouldn’t see you for another two days at least, so when you were so enthusiastically running towards him while he was on the way to practice the afternoon after, he couldn’t help but run towards you like a puppy reuniting with his owner after years of separation.

“Y/N!” His voice boomed like thunder in the open grounds of campus as he met you halfway.

“Bokutō-kun!” You mimicked his tone, slowing to a stop just an arm’s reach away from him. You had that energetic smile and the sparkle in your eyes that made his stomach flutter. If he was making you smile like that, he would quite literally pass out that moment. “Bokutō-kun, truth or dare?” His smile would’ve dropped to morph into an expression of pure confusion but your smile was just so addicting that his face was just mirroring yours.

“Hmm . . . let’s go with dare.”

“M’kay!” He thought it was impossible for your smile to get any wider, but he was proven wrong. “I dare you to go out on a date with me.” Now he was grinning ear to ear like a lovestruck fool.

“How does this Friday at seven sound?”

“It’s a date!”

[lollercakesff]

And They Were Strangers

Jyn Erso has been prepping for this for months. Years even, if you count the endless hours she'd spent running pools and hosting watch nights with her college roommates. She'd choreographed hundreds of dollars in auctions for remaining teams and had led multiple nights where her and her friends cooked their way around the world with the country of the week. The memories were great, sure, but to say she didn't feel a connection with this path in her life would be a lie. Something drew her in, tied her up, and convinced her that this - this - was the thing she needed to do before she died.

And now it was time. She was ready. Mentally… Physically… Hopefully.

AN: Will I finish writing this? I have a plan... But is it worth my time?

But the path to her next adventure was currently being blocked by some too-tall goon with haphazard hair and piercing dark eyes who kept getting in her way. First at check in, then in line for security, and now at the boarding gate. They’d practically been together, crossing paths and crashing each other, since she entered this damn airport and it was starting to really get to her. 

"Are you planning on getting on this plane or just standing in the way?" Jyn growls under her breath when the man doesn't move forward with the gate agent's call.

"What - Oh," he leaps forward a step and hustles towards the woman, pulling his passport from his pocket as Jyn sighs and checks her papers again. 

Her new American passport feels heavy in her hand, its empty pages a sign of things to come. She was on her way to Los Angeles where she was scheduled to show up at her first and only briefing for the next season of the Amazing Race. The producers had promised a full day of orientation covering the rules of the race and how the team match up would work before the "trip of a lifetime" began the next day. She was trying not to stress about it but she didn't quite know what she was getting into. 

This was the first season where every team in the race would be a set of strangers. They'd all meet at the briefing but it wouldn't be until the start of the race when they'd learn who their partner was. The producers had billed it as the season of 'fate' where they tried to pick a winning team by pure dumb luck with names drawn from a hat. Or so she'd been told. Who knew how it would really work.

"Next!" The agent calls and Jyn scurries forward, passing her documents over and brushing her bangs from her face. In another second she's motioned through and she's heading down the gangway and onto the plane. 

When she gets to her seat her frustration returns tenfold as the man from before has settled himself in her seat by the window, his seatbelt already clipped and his attention turned towards the action on the tarmac. 

"Hey, you're in my seat," she greets, stuffing her duffle in the overhead bin.

"F? Window?" He answers with an almost-accent and a quirk to his lips. Jyn frowns and steps into the row to let the people behind her pass.

"Yes. That's my seat, can you move please?" 

"I was sure I had the window, I feel claustrophobic if I can't see out - "

"Yeah, I'm sure. Can you check your boarding pass?" She asks, cutting his sob story off before it can even get started. 

"Can't I just have it this one time? It's a short flight," he answers, making no move to relent. Jyn sighs and drops into the seat next to him, her eyes closing tight as she urges the irritation to ease. 

"Fine. But this is bad karma and I hope it comes back to bite you in the ass, asshole," she grumbles the last part, determined to insult him but not loud enough to cause a scene. The man coughs as if to hide a laugh and Jyn hates him even more, pulling up her hood and taking out her headphones.

She was going to spend the next two hours in a music haven, mentally far from this man and the constant bumping of her elbow that came from sitting in the aisle row. Soon she'd be in LA at her hotel and then she'd be on to a new country, with a new language and culture that she'd have to work with to get her team to the finish line. Then she’d do it again and again until they won. Or they lost. She didn't like to think about that last possibility so instead she closes her eyes and hits play.

---

The hotel bed is more luxurious than anything she's ever slept in in her life and when she wakes it's with a curse as she realizes she's almost late to the briefing. Hustling around the room, she nearly crashes onto the floor when her pants get tangled and she loses her balance. Cursing out her alarm, her beautiful sleep, and the time difference, Jyn pulls on her t-shirt just as she pulls open her door and slams into someone walking past her room.

"Shit, sorry!” She gasps as she rights herself and pulls back. When she looks up it’s to find the man from the plane. The one who wouldn’t give her back her seat. The one who’d been a pain in the ass all day. “You!” The man’s eyes widen and he looks around him like he’s being Punk’d, surprise in his brow. 

“From the plane?” He counters, as if he was still struggling to place her. 

“Yeah. What, are you following me? How did you know to find me here?” Jyn growls, crossing her arms. The man cocks his head and furrows his brow, looking at her as though she was crazy. 

“Follow you? I’m here for… A thing that has nothing to do with you. If anything, I’d think you’re stalking me,” he adds sharply. Jyn scowls and shakes her head, her watch beeping with her five minute alarm. 

“Sure. Fine, whatever. I won’t be here long enough to have this happen again. Have a good life!” She shouts as she hurries off down the hall, her hand flung up into the air and her middle finger pointed towards him. 

She takes the stairs down to the conference room because getting stuck in the elevator with that jerk would put her nerves over the edge, their already frayed status from the late wakeup making her more punchy than usual. By the time she barrels into the room and grabs a plate of the breakfast, the producer is calling everyone to a seat. 

Jyn moves towards an empty chair and begins measuring up her fellow racers, her eyes drifting over one person and then the next as they settle in a semi-circle around the speaker. Some of them were incredibly fit, others a bit paunchy but she figured they could probably take her in a memory challenge or two if it came down to it. Most of them were on the younger side, maybe in their twenties or thirties, though there were a few who easily slotted into their fifties at the very least. She didn’t want to be ageist but she secretly hoped she’d get paired with someone who could keep up with her at the very least and she didn’t really peg any of these older folks as marathoners. 

“Welcome, good morning everyone!” A young woman calls out, drawing their attention to the front of the room. Jyn sits up and nimbles on a muffin, trying to look intimidating to the others around her who she assumed were doing the measuring up as she had just been. 

“You’re in my seat,” a voice says over her shoulder. Jyn’s stomach drops and she frowns, looking back to find the man from the airplane and the hallway standing behind her. “Don’t worry though, I’m not going to make you move, I’ll just take this empty one here.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jyn hisses, clenching her hands and nearly crushing her muffin to pieces. 

“Nope,” he responds as he sits in the chair next to her. An insult is on the tip of her tongue when the woman calls out again and really takes control of the room, beginning with a welcome spiel before moving right into the security briefing. After the team has explained every terrifying aspect about the world in explicit detail, Jyn looks around the room and finds half of the contestants with a concerned look on their faces, the other half grinning wickedly at the challenge. Beside her the man keeps his expression reserved though his eyes are calculating, the look making her guess whether he was regretting his choice or simply bored. 

After the welcome session, they’re broken up into groups of four and are led to a table in the corner of the room. Jyn sighs a breath of relief as the man is placed in another group, his presence finally dissipating and allowing her to focus on the tasks at hand instead of the prickling skin she felt whenever he was close. 

Hours pass and the contestants are moved around the room to different stations where they focus on different aspects of the game. There’s logic tests and geography quizzes which she passes with flying colours but when it comes to the language skills and memory games she flounders, her attention twisting towards her fellow contestants. She spends half the time trying to measure up where they stand on these activities, who would be best suited to the way she wanted to run this race. 

Her strategy - based on years of watching the show - was to run with brute force. She would power through on the physical challenges and when it came to figuring out a puzzle she was set. She just needed a partner who would be able to keep up and rush into everything just as hard. Smarts weren’t what won you the race, it was being able to push your way through anything and she had trained to do just that. 

“Everyone now has an hour for lunch. Feel free to get to know each other and remember, these folks might be your competition or they might just be the person you cross that finish line with!” The producer from earlier calls as the stations are closed and the participants are left to loiter in the room. 

Jyn feels like she’s in a social experiment as she beelines towards the food table to take a plate. She loads it up with everything she’s going to miss for the next few weeks - caesar salad and french fries and pasta salad that looked too delicious to miss. When she settles at a table she’s quickly joined by a handful of others, the conversation easily picking up from the morning activities.

“I’m Bodhi Rook, you?” The man sitting next to her says around a forkful of salad. Jyn looks him over quickly and notes his tall frame and long hair, his thin frame and open expression. He could be a good partner - she’d seen him race through some of the challenges with an efficiency she admired. 

“Jyn Erso,” she answers, lifting her hand to offer a shake. Bodhi takes it and squeezes it before turning back to his food, diving in as she looks around the table at the others. “You heard anything about how we’re going to be assigned teams?” She asks after a few minutes, her water lifting to her lips. 

“Not really. My group thought maybe the stations were to see where our strengths were so they could match us up better. But I was also told it would be a name in a hat, so who knows what they’re planning.” 

“Yeah, I heard the hat thing too. I hope there’s a little more thought put into it,” she responds with a shrug. Bodhi nods and lets a laugh escape. 

“Either way, I think I’ll be okay. I just like the adventure of it, you know? Don’t really need to win the whole thing,” he says around another bite. 

Jyn frowns and looks at her food, debating internally whether she could be paired with someone who didn’t want to win the whole race. If she had to admit it - though she’d never say it on camera - she wasn’t here just because she liked the show and wanted to see the world. 

She was here because she needed the prize money. 

The thought creeps up on her and she pushes it back down, stuffing it into her chest like too many clothes in a carry on bag. She didn’t have time to think about it now, not when she should be sizing up her competition and thinking about U-Turn and Yield strategy. No. She needed to focus. 

“What about everyone else?” Bodhi asks the table when Jyn still doesn’t respond. She turns her attention to the people around them, listening as first a bright eyed Luke Skywalker and a gruff Baze Malbus explain their motivations before moving on to Leia Organa, a beautiful but strategic thinker, and her cocky puppy-dog-tail for-the-day Han Solo easily admits he’s only here for the money. Jyn can’t help but think he might be her real competition if they don’t get paired together, the gleam of a quick buck in his eyes adding to his boisterous energy. 

Taking another glance around the room, Jyn weighs the rest of her competition as they sit at two other tables. Sixteen racers in total, all with different motivations and experiences that they bring to the table. They’d be eight teams and the producers had all but guaranteed it would be a tough race with all of them having secret strengths that were admitted in their bio videos. Jyn can’t remember what hers ss but by the time she turns back to the conversation at hand, she already knows one thing is for sure - she’s going to win, even if it kills her. 

After lunch they’re broken off into individual briefing rooms where they’re given their racing issued equipment and a final check in with the producers before they’re sent off to their rooms to pack. In the morning they’ll all be meeting in the lobby to hand over their backpacks before heading to the starting line. 

When the race starts their first activity will be finding their matched backpack with a coloured bandana tied to it. The racer with the matching bandana will be their partner for the duration and it will either be a successful match or a story of just how quickly Jyn can crash and burn their team. 

Throughout the evening she tries not to think about it - pushing away thoughts of how hectic tomorrow would be, how much adrenaline is already rolling in her veins and just how is she supposed to sleep tonight? To distract herself she focuses on potential strategies depending on who she paired with in the morning. Baze could work, or she’d even probably be successful with Han if they didn’t rip each other's heads off. Bodhi would be a great candidate - he seemed relaxed and competent, but Jyn didn’t like that he wasn’t driven by the final prize so much as he just wanted to have an adventure. 

No, she could pair with most of the people she’d met that morning. With the very real exception of the man from the plane who she’d learned was named Cassian Andor. There was no way they would be able to work together to even get out of the States, their partnership tanking before they even took their first flight. She was sure of it. And so when she falls asleep that night it’s to the thought that she had a one in fifteen chance of failing and those were pretty good odds. 

---

Morning comes in a rush of excitement and insanity and a paranoia that she’s forgotten something even though she’s checked her bags at least a dozen times. When she gets to the lobby, the assistants take her old bags and mark them with her tags before collecting her race bag and shoving it onto a luggage cart with the other packs. She’s directed to a holding queue where the racers mill about, snacking on the continental breakfast and filling their water bottles. 

Twenty minutes later and they’re piled onto a bus. Thirty minutes later and they’re being placed around an empty field with only the production crew circling them and a pile of luggage in the center of the field. Jyn thinks she spots her bag with a blue tag and she grins, looking around at the nervous faces she was up against. 

“You’ve got this,” she whispers to herself as Phil Keoghan begins his speech from near the luggage pile. Adrenaline spikes in her blood and then there’s a horn and she’s racing forward, scrambling for the luggage pile and her bag with its bandana looped through the arm. She pulls it free and stumbles back, looking around at the other racers as they take in their own colours, desperately looking for their partner. 

Not Bodhi. Not Baze. Fuck, not even Han. She scours the faces and colours until she sees it - blue, like hers! She steps forward, her smile widening having finally found her partner. 

But then she looks up. And her eyes meet her partner’s. 

Dark brown meeting green.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Guess you’re stuck with someone with bad karma,” he says evenly, the nerve of it making her want to pull her hair out. She curses again and grabs for his arm, dragging him towards the clue box for their next instructions. They didn’t have time to waste on pleasantries and witty comebacks, not if they wanted to win. 

She could do this. Brute force was all it would take, right? 

[porrokin]

“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

story : all rights reserved ; @porrokin

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

-

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

-

© PHOTOGRAPHY : @/k_reckd [ TWITTER ]

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

© PHOTO - MODEL : @/iiphugs [ TWITTER ]

[loserslibrary]

pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier [Reddie], Stanley Uris/Patricia Blum Uris [Stanpat], Mike Hanlon/Bill Denbrough [Hanbrough] & Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh [Benverly]  written by: Ashley rating: Teen word count:  2,905 prompt: from @ticomat​ “Ok, so, for a prompt, how about the Losers having a Dinner night in which all pairings have big news they planned to tell the others, and end up collectively stealing each others thunder?”

Eddie knew that he and Richie were the boring friends. They had been for years, and Eddie supposed that was normal. When you’ve been in a serious, committed relationship since… well, forever, it seemed only natural that they wouldn’t have as many crazy stories as their friends. Especially since Richie had been banned from telling sex stories. Eddie didn’t mind, he was never bored with Richie, and he much preferred the most adventurous part of his month being he and Richie trying a new brand of pasta sauce that gave Richie stomach cramps over failed Tinder dates or coworkers setting him up on blind dates with horrible, poorly smelling people. 

Eddie and Richie have been together officially since he turned sixteen, but they’d practically been together for years before that. They’d had their rough spots like any other couple; choosing colleges had been one of the lowest points that Eddie could remember and he still sometimes felt sick when thinking about how close he and Richie had come to ending things when it came down to New York City vs Los Angeles. Richie had crawled through his bedroom window, crying and swearing to go to with him to New York City- or “wherever the fuck in the world he wants to go”- and Eddie couldn’t imagine them ever living anywhere else.

So, no. Eddie didn’t feel any lack luster in his life and he didn’t envy his friends’ wild stories whenever they got together the past couple of years. As they rapidly approached their thirties, Eddie was more than content with being settled down and married. Job he liked, financial stability, a loving husband in a surprisingly spacious New York apartment. It was more than Eddie had ever thought he’d be able to have growing up, and he wouldn’t trade it up for all the dating scene moments in the world. He wasn’t sure why anybody would. 

There was, admittedly, one thing in his life that he and Richie had been discussing. Something that could only make things even more perfect. And tonight, Eddie was sure that he and Richie would finally have the most exciting news at the reunion table. 

“You sure you want to tell them?” Richie asked, rubbing his hands between Eddie’s shoulder blades as Eddie used the mirror to do up his tie. Dressing up to Richie was a button up shirt with jeans that didn’t have rips in the knees or thighs, but Eddie always tried to go that extra mile when they were going out for a meal. Especially one that felt as important as this one.

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie said, finishing up the tie and pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek. “I know that maybe we should wait until we have more news but- the Losers are as much family as your mom and dad, Rich. I want them to know.”

Richie smiled and pulled Eddie in for a quick kiss, and rubbed their noses together as he pulled back. “Alright, then I guess we better get going then. Bev is going to talk our ears off the second she sees us. Since the dweeb skipped Christmas.”

“I’m sure that her finishing the designs for her first leading collection  was more important than our Boxing Day dinner.” 

“You sound just like her.” Richie swung his car keys around his fingers as Eddie slipped into his jacket. “You’re such a sham, Edward Spaghetti Kaspbrak. You don’t need a jacket from here to the freakin’ car. You just wanna show off your nice threads to our friends when we get there.”

Eddie buttoned up the jacket up and beamed at Richie. “So what if I do? My husband has a big fancy Saturday Night Live job now, so I can spend my salary on whatever I want. Jackets included.”

Richie rolled his eyes and guided Eddie out of their apartment door. “Yeah.” He said in a soft voice. “For now.” Eddie never thought he’d be so happy to have financial restrictions.

Bill and Mike were already sitting around the table when Eddie and RIchie were shown to the Losers’ usual table. “Hey guys!” Richie half-jogged over to them as Eddie thanked their hostess. He tossed an arm around Bill’s shoulders and tugged him into his side. “Mikey, I swear you get hotter every time I see you. How do you do it?” 

Bill yanked away from Richie and punched him in the side. Richie made a loud, wounded noise and Eddie came over to give him a patronizing pat on the cheek. “Hush.” He said softly, before smiling at their friends. “How was Florida?”

Bill and Mike exchanged small looks that made alarm bells start ringing in the back of Eddie’s mind, but they both quickly replaced the looks with smiles. “It was amazing!” Mike said happily, waving towards the entry of their private room as Stan came in with Patty on his arm. 

Stan had started dating Patricia Blum about three years earlier, and she had been an instant click with their tight knit group. It was rare for anybody to connect with the other Losers so quickly, more often than not the Losers’ partners found their little group hard to fit into. Patty hadn’t been like that, thankfully. She and Richie had been practically best friends by the end of their first meeting. 

This was made apparent again, as Richie launched himself from Bill’s side and rushed through the little room to scoop Patty up in his arms and spin her around. 

“I swear, Richard.” Stan rolled his eyes but there was smile spreading across his face. “We saw you not even two months ago.”

“Awwe.” Richie cooed, putting Patty back on the ground and moved to kiss Stan hard on the head. “You know me, Manly Stanny. I’m like a dog, waiting for you to get back from work. Very over excited when you come back inside because you forgot your keys.” 

Stan chuckled at Richie’s awkward analogy and flicked him in the face. “Yeah, you’re a big oversized lap dog. I don’t know how Eddie puts up with you.”

Eddie walked over and wrapped his arms around Richie’s mid section and stuck his tongue out at Stan. 

“I told you we’d be the last ones here.” Ben said, quickly undoing his scarf and giving everybody a forced smile. “Sorry, sorry! Somebody claimed the traffic wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Don’t blame me!” Beverly said, swooping into the room in all her usual beauty. She pressed a kiss to Mike and Bill’s cheeks before turning to look at Ben with her arms on her hips. “I live in New York! I don’t drive. I take the subway like any self respecting New Yorker.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Richie cheered, despite none of them having ordered any drinks yet. The group all started moving towards the big round table, chattering amongst themselves. Richie bumped his hip against Patty’s and grinned at her.

“Take your hand out of your pocket, baby doll.” Richie whispered in her ear. Patty turned him, cheeks turning a little pink even under the red tinge of the dining room. She just shook her head and Richie leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Well, congratulations. Even though I’m not supposed to know.” 

Patty smiled to herself, and reached out to grasp Stan’s hand under the table with her own. Richie couldn’t hide his own grin as Eddie took the empty seat next to him. Never one to disguise his affections, Richie leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

Beverly made overly loud gagging noises and Richie rolled his eyes lovingly at her. “Cram it, Marsh. Let me love on my husband!” 

“Oh I’m sure that you smother Eddie enough in the privacy of your own home.” Bill said with a chuckle. 

“It’s not smothering!” Eddie shot to him, before pressing an almost rough kiss to Richie’s stubbly cheek. He immediately pulled away and wiped his hand across his mouth. “Oh god, Richard, you need to shave. I’m not going to keep kissing you if it feels like rubbing my face against sandpaper.”

Richie tossed his head back and cackled, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him against him. Eddie whacked at his chest lightly, and Richie kissed him on top of the head.

“Truly disgusting.” Bill said with a roll of his eyes. “But enough of Dad and Dad’s domestic crap. How have you guys been. Some of us haven’t seen each other since the summer.”

“How targeted.” Beverly laughed, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher in the middle of the table. “But I’ll admit, I actually do have some news since the last time I saw you guys. And before you ask, no, it’s not about my new line so you don’t have to pretend to understand what I’m talking about.”

There was a moment of relief around the table, as they all smiled at their childhood female friend. Even after they’d started having more women in their group, Patty, or Bev’s roommate from college Kay, or Bill’s ex-girlfriend Audra whom he was still friendly with, they’d never really joined forces with anybody who was on Beverly’s level with clothes or trends. The closest was probably Richie- and only because with his career, he has to at least attempt to keep up.

Beverly reached out and tangled her hands with Ben’s on the top. Eddie looked at Richie from the corner of his eye, getting a raised eyebrow in return. Ben and Beverly had been having the ultimate will they or won’t they story in the history of the world, tracing back all the way to the eighth grade. They’d dated off and on all throughout high school, somehow always finding some sort of reason to break up, and then another to get back together. Two years earlier, they had rekindled the high school relationship and the Losers had been sure that they were going to be in it for the long haul this time. Then Ben’s job had promoted him six months into the relationship, sending him to live in Chicago, and they had broken it off once again. Not feeling as though the long distance could work for them. Though the two years had passed since then, the Losers could all tell that the feelings still lingered. Would possibly always linger between them. It was one of the few things that they all knew better than to interfere with. 

Ben smiled sheepishly, rubbing his thumb along the back of Beverly’s hand. “My company are starting a new project to create affordable living in New York City. They want me to head up the project.” His sheepish smile broke into a full blown grin. “I’m moving back. For good.”

The table erupted into cheers, which were quickly and embarrassingly quieted when the waitress came to take their drink orders. As she left, the gang all turned their attention back to Ben and Beverly, whose hands were still clasped together on the table. 

“So…” Richie sang, wagging his eyebrows. “Somebody’s gotta address the elephant in the room-”

“Jesus, Rich.” Bill groaned, though his voice hinted at laughter.

“Are you guys gonna be New York’s Next Hottest Couple or what?” Richie barrelled over top of Bill as though he hadn’t spoken. 

Ben and Beverly glanced at each other, stars in their eyes, before Beverly looked back at Richie and nodded. “That was my news. Ben and I are back together- and we’re moving in together.”

Softer, but no less enthusiast, cheers broke out then. Mike reached over and clasped Ben on the shoulder. The other man’s face had turned a bright red under the attention, always a shy boy deep in his heart, and started waving the others off. “Thank you guys! Really! But Mike and Bill! How was Florida?”

“Yeah!” Beverly jumped onto Ben’s attempts to deflect. “We want to hear all about it!” 

Bill cleared his throat. “It was great. You know, it’s always nice to go somewhere warm and know that your friends are all somewhere else freezing their asses off.”  

The group all grumbled and complained, while Eddie narrowed his eyes at his oldest friend. His hand was clenched around his glass and he used it to gesture towards Bill. “You’re holding back. Something happened. What is it?”

Bill and Mike glanced at each other. “Welll…” Mike said slowly. “I sort of feel like we’re stepping on Ben and Bev’s toes here but… Yeah, something did happen.”

“Oh shit, did you guys fuck?” Richie blurted out. Stan let out an exasperated “Richie” while Eddie swatted at his arm. “What!?! We were all thinking it!” 

“That’s not exactly the tactful way the rest of us would have put it.” Eddie said before knocking back the rest of his drink. 

Richie just rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat, pouting until Eddie reached over and rested his hand on Richie’s knee. Richie dropped his hand on top of Eddie’s and squeezed. 

“Okay, so that’s not exactly how we wanted to say it either.” Mike said with a small smile. Bill was watching him from the corner of his eye, leaving all eyes on Mike. “But yes. We’re dating now. We’ve taking it slowly because we weren’t sure what this was, so please don’t be upset that we didn’t tell you right away-”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Billy. Richie and I were together for like two years before you we told you guys. We’re the last people be mad about that.”

“We weren’t talking to you.” Bill said happily with a toothy grin. “We were talking to all our normal friends.”

“Well, that’s fucking rude.” Richie muttered under his breath. A small rumble of laughter moved through the group, even Eddie chuckling. “Whatever. I haven’t decided if I saw this coming or not, and my gaydar is definitely a little off, but I’m so happy for you guys!”

“There’s no such thing as a gaydar.” Ben said with confidence.  Eddie, Mike and Richie all exchanged looks and Beverly kissed Ben gently on the cheek. 

“Well…” Patty spoke up then, her face looking like her cheeks were about to burst with joy. Richie nudged Eddie and wiggled his eyebrows, while Eddie frowned at him. 

Patty lifted her hand up away from Stan’s and held it out towards the table. The light coming from above them reflected off the rather large diamond on her left hand.

“Oh my God…” Beverly whispered. A hush fell over the table following Beverly’s words, everybody silently awaiting the confirmation of what they’d already pieced together. 

“We’re engaged.” Patty said softly. Stan’s ears and the back of his neck were both a deep red under the attention. The group remained quiet for a moment, then broke into cheers so loud that Richie was surprised they weren’t kicked out of the restaurant altogether. 

Everybody jumped to their feet, quick to hug the happy couple. Richie scooped Patty up in his arms and spun her around slightly, nearly sending their table flying. Both laughing, Richie sent Patty off into a teary Ben’s awaiting arms and turned to find himself facing Stanley. Stan’s cupped the back of Richie’s head as he pulled him into a hug. 

“You’ll be my best man, right?” Stan whispered directly into Richie’s ear. Though his friends would often say he had none, it took every inch of Richie’s self control not to immediately burst into tears as he nodded into Stanley’s shoulder. 

It took a couple minutes to get everybody calmed down and back into their seats, and their poor waitress came in to take their food orders. Richie was sure that once they sat back down all the couples were holding hands under the table. They all gave small chit chat until their meals showed up, and Richie dug in excitedly. 

“Oh, wait!” Beverly lowered her spoonful of pasta and blinked dramatically. “We totally forgot! Eddie, Rich, what’s new with you guys? Anything big happening in your lives since the last time we all hung out?”

Without even needed to look at his husband, Richie knew exactly what to say.

“Nope. You guys know us.” Richie draped his arm around the back of Eddie’s seat. “28 going on 88. Watch the news, in bed by 7.” 

The table all laughed, and dinner carried on without anymore cheering. The meal was peaceful and comfortable, Richie feeling almost blissful with Eddie’s heat pressing into his side while surrounded by their closest and most beloved friends. 

After saying their goodbyes, Eddie and Richie walked hand in hand to their car. “So,” Eddie started, with a smile in his voice. “Not ready to tell them after all?”

Richie laughed. “Nah, we’re ready.” He said. “But I didn’t wanna steal anybody’s thunder. We got enough news tonight. Ours can wait.” Richie pushed Eddie up against the car and kissed his jaw lightly. “What do you say? Let’s keep it our own little surprise. Just show them all by posting it on Instagram. Show up at the next get together with a baby.”

Eddie grinned. “We wouldn’t be the boring friends anymore.”

“Hell the fuck no.”

[ephemeral-writings]

Everything I Need // 04

oh sehun x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

Everything I Need // oh sehun teaches you a thing or two about life. but falling for the boy who lived across from you was not what you had anticipated.  

A/N-- Please leave me your thoughts!!! Enjoy reading! 

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05

//////

The day your mother passed, it had rained. It was a spring shower that woke you up that morning, accompanied by the sound of water dripping from the roof leak into a rusty pail. You sat in bed, seconds after, your phone rang. Nothing had felt right that morning, not the rain, not the call from your mother’s hospital. But the absence of your father’s cigarette and constant grumbling yanked you back to reality. Your mother was dead before you had a proper goodbye. 

As you looked around the memorial service, you had one thought in mind and one only: you were truly alone now. No amount of fake crying from your relatives could convince you to believe that they cared an ounce about you. And you couldn’t blame them. They didn’t know you and you didn’t know them. Why should your locked up father and dead mother have to force them to take you under their wing? 

After the service, without much thought, you packed a bag and left your childhood home behind in the dust of a moving bus. You said a silent prayer that your father won’t find you in the next chapter of your life. You prayed and cried, for the first time since the news of her death, that your mother would watch over you from above.  

You landed in Seoul, the main city just shy on the outskirts of the town you grew up in. You’d always dreamt about going to Seoul, but had never visited. You’ve heard of the high rise buildings that stretched to the sky. Turned out they weren’t that high, just taller than the ones from your town. It was definitely busier; the streets were always littered with people, cars lined bumper to bumper, in essence it was like a city that never stept. 

You were accepted into a university in Seoul. Your plan had been to work while studying, and with the money you’d make, send half the amount in every check to your parents. Your already precarious future depleted the minute your life took a turn for the worst. One second a single lit candle was guiding you, and the next it was blown out, and you were left standing in the dark. But you’d eventually find your way around. Be it may lead to a cliff, you couldn’t stay in one place forever. 

The first place you found was Jubilant. A help wanted sign was the beacon of light in beginning your new life, and more than anything, you needed money. The university had offered you enough aid to carry the weight of your tuition, and with scholarships, you had almost no trouble continuing your education. First year went by, slightly uneventful as you were only trying to adjust to the new-- well, everything. Your roommate situation was a mess overall. Second year was even more mundane as you were starting to get used to your everyday life of nothing but routine. Your second year was when you got comfortable enough to go out a little more, outside your school and work life. After a year of living with three other girls who were more or less strangers to you, you finally decided to move out on your own. You spent weeks searching for a place, and finally found the place you were residing at now. You arrived at your appointment early morning to sign and secured the vacant unit, and moved in a day after. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Chanyeol called for your attention. It was downtime at the restaurant, and you were listlessly restocking on wrapped to-go utensils. Chanyeol was tinkering with his phone that was also dj-ing the restaurant’s soundtrack. There’s no one except a young couple who looked just about finishing up and your boss nowhere to be found, he put on what you liked to call lobby music. Chanyeol had a knack for jazz and blues, though he looked more like a rock and rap sort of guy. You made a small sound to let him know that you were listening. “You’re a girl, right?” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Last I checked, yes, Chanyeol, I am. What’s up?”

He grinned at your sarcasm. It wasn’t often when you’d let your, as Chanyeol liked to call it, fuck-off vibe, so he noted that you were in a good mood. 

“What does a guy need to do to win over your heart?”

“My heart isn’t up for offers, Yeol. Don’t try for a second time.” You smirked. 

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “There wasn’t even a first time, Y/N. We talked about this, c’mon.” He groaned, leaning his right hip on the counter you were working on, arms crossed as he scrutinized you. Chanyeol was not a shy one. His gaze, at first, alarmed you. Having those set of wide eyes and a tenacious gaze made you uneasy, it was as if he could see right through you. After working with him for so long, you’ve learned that those clear eyes held more curiosity than harm. Although, curiosity could lead to harmful circumstances. 

“Who’s the girl?”

You beated him to the punch. It was obvious that he needed advice on whoever it was that held his interest, you just weren’t sure you’d be much of help to him. In your relatively short life, you’ve never had someone pursue you romantically. It was unheard of, you being associated with a male, nevermind it being romantic or not. It wasn’t something you pondered a lot about, at least, not until last weekend due to a certain male who lived in your building. 

“She’s in my music theory class. Senior, so you probably don’t know her.” A senior like himself, and also a music major, you deduce. “We got paired up to do a project together, but she’s…” Chanyeol trails off as he noticed the couple waving us down for their bill. 

Chanyeol settled their check and bussed the table, and returned to your side all in less than five minutes. “So, I think she hates me. Actually, scratch that. I know she hates me, and I don’t understand why. I can’t read the girl, and it’s killing me.”  

“Are you interested in her? Or just confused why a girl would reject you, the great Park Chanyeol?” 

“Watch the tone, missy. I’m still older than you.” 

“Well?” You pointed a brow at him.

Chanyeol thought for a while before deciding, “Well, she’s pretty. And smart. And she’s so talented--  that’s why I was so excited to work with her on the project! But then she got all frosty on me when I tried talking to her, and I’m confused.” 

He truly looked perplexed by the girl in question behavior. 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you shrugged, honest and regretful. Chanyeol, though a huge dork once you got to know him, was very handsome. If this girl didn’t like Chanyeol, for whatever reason unbeknownst to you, you couldn’t help. 

Chanyeol was a music major and joined you at Jubilant a year after you started working there. He was a quick learner and even quicker at becoming one of the best servers. He held an affable vibe to him that was contagious, to the point that you found yourself tossing remarks back and forth until you established the relationship that you had now. 

“I’ll figure it out, some way or another,” he waved the matter aside. “So, what’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re chirpy, Y/N.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I said hi to you earlier and you replied.”

“Okay, I always say hi to you,” you retorted, hands on your hips in defense. 

“No, you just wave at me like a fly’s in your face or just grunt. You’re chirpy,” he emphasized the last word obnoxiously. 

“Shut up, Yeol.”

“What, so you got nothing for me? Not even after the juicy stuff I spilled for you?” 

You shook your head. “Nothing.” 

“Uh, rude.” He deadpanned.

You laughed. Chanyeol could be sassy when he wanted to, and he mostly was when he’s with you. You guessed you both brought out something within each other that you’ve never known existed. 

You tried not to let your mind wander during the rest of your shift, in case Chanyeol grew more suspicious and interrogated you again. 

Though you didn’t like the job, it forced you to speak, something you had troubles doing, to talk to people who were strangers and co-workers who were your friends. It was just unclear, to you at least, whether that friendship extended beyond the scope of the restaurant. You hated that empty feeling in your chest whenever you parted ways with Chanyeol, him going back to his endeavors of becoming a music producer and you...well, you didn’t know exactly what you were doing or where you were going. You majored in psychology, but only because it had seemed like it was interesting. Three years in and you were beginning to think that it wasn’t. But it’s too late to turn back, so you would have to learn to settle. 

Fortunately(unfortunately), you don’t see Sehun for almost a whole week. It’s weird that before that night, you wouldn’t notice how often you wouldn’t crash into him in the hall or the mailroom. He was Sehun, your neighbor who has lived less than ten feet away from you for months, yet you don’t know a thing about him. Sehun, the man who was so disarmingly handsome that you now found yourself peeking corners to see if you had missed him by just a second, or making trips to the mailroom even though you had already collected them after school just to catch a glimpse of him. He became a phantom that was impossible to find.

Of course you knew where to find him, but it wasn’t like you had a purpose to seek him out or knock on his door. Plus, it wasn’t like one conversation with him as your bartender constituted him as a friend. You convinced yourself that it was best to just leave it at that. 

The following Monday, you came back from school to a surprise. You hated surprises for reasons, but seeing Sehun standing in front of your door as you watched from behind, a tinge of eagerness sparked on your skin.

“Hi.” 

Sehun, being so wrapped up in conjuring up the nerve to knock on your door, is startled shitless when he turns around to meet your questioning gaze. 

“Did you need something, Sehun?” You asked.  

Sehun shook his head, his eyes being hidden slightly from his falling bangs. He looked younger, less brooding, and you noticed that he was freshly showered and his fluffy locks proved your speculation. There’s a waft of aftershave as well, and a scent of freshness that you picked up. You were still debating whether you liked the smell of seaside breeze with earthy wood when Sehun responded with, “Have you eaten yet?” 

You willed your hopes to simmer down, to not jump to a favorable conclusion. He’s not inviting you to eat with him, is he? Though a part of you, the part that finds Sehun’s attractiveness insatiable, hopes with every fiber of your being to be allowed the time to bask in his beauty, another part of you dreads having to expose just how utterly banal your person actually was.

“I have, actually,” you lied easily. 

Sehun, you realize, was actually easier to read than you think. Since his countenance didn’t range very far from each one, it was easy to see the slightest change and the small flash of disappointment in his eyes made you regret your words, but you weren’t about to go back on your words now.

“How about later, then?” He asked. 

“I have a lot of work to catch up on, maybe next time.” Your heart thundered uncomfortably in your chest as you rejected him again. You felt your resolve fading the longer he stood there, contemplating whether he should say more. It wasn’t like this when you talked to him last week, but then again, you also had a bit to drink. 

Alas, Sehun agreed, quietly retreating back to his unit with a lighter chest. It was four pm, the perfect time to squeeze in a nap but as you stripped down and crawled into bed, you found it impossible to shut down. Thoughts of why Sehun had approached you and why he was so adamant on having a meal with you prevented any sleep to come to you. 

Finally at quarter past six, you decided fuck it. Sehun opened the door, not surprised to see you-- he probably looked through the peephole, something you could never do because you could barely reach it. 

“Still want to grab dinner?” You blurted.

Sehun quirked a semi-smile, and nodded. He stepped back into his apartment, to grab a jacket he tells you, and you got a glimpse of his living space. You couldn’t see much, not from the entrance, but what you could see was a charcoal grey L-shaped sofa, a very sizable television mounted on the wall. The other side was the kitchen, similar to your own unit except reversed in layout.

Sehun emerged from his room wearing a black hoodie with the word Russel across the chest and a circle of stars on one of the sleeves. “Let’s go.” 

While Sehun seemed as cool as a cucumber, not minding the small fact that you randomly going out for dinner together wasn’t something random. He even whistled to an unknown tune, as if the crisp air was singing him a song and he was responding with one of his own. The keys in his pocket even played to the rhythm of his steps.

The best thing about living in the city was that almost everything was accessible on foot, especially places to eat. Even as the sun was setting and people should’ve been home, having dinner, there was a considerable amount of people on the streets, running errands or doing like you and Sehun and looking for a place to eat out. 

“Where are we going?” You asked. It had barely occurred to you that there was no prior agreement on what to eat, let alone knowledge on what your preferences were. 

“I was thinking soup, with noodles.” That sounded pleasant with the weather so you quickly agreed. “I know just the place then.”

You and Sehun walked by your usual diner, passed by a Japanese restaurant, a ramen place which you thought was the destination, but he continued on until you arrived at a specialized knife cut noodle soup restaurant. 

A cozy, traditional style restaurant was not something you had imagined Sehun having in mind. It was the perfect ambiance to the blue hue that was morphing into black by the second just outside; a juxtaposition to the warmth that the earthy tones of the restaurant provided. 

A nice middle-aged lady greeted you from where she stood across the room, serving a table of older men. Sehun held up two fingers to indicate a party of two, and she gestured to an empty table by the window. 

It was silent as you perused the menu. It was a small selection but straight-to-the-point with all the flavors being relatively traditional. While you decide on what to get, Sehun seemed to have already known what to get from the minute he walked in so he began to set the table, placing a napkin from the dispenser and a pair of silver metal chopsticks and spoon on top. Much to your astonishment, he does the same for you. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, not forgetting your manners. He hummed in response. 

“Have you decided?” He asked. You were debating between the chicken and the kimchi noodle soup. 

“Hm...yeah, I’m ready.” 

The same lady came by and jotted down your orders: Sehun ordered the perilla seed noodle soup while you chose the chicken. You both thanked her when she brought over two cups of water before slipping into silence. You busied yourself by finding interest in the streets. It was finally dark now, with the sun gone, the sky was painted in indigo. Unfortunately, the stars are barely visible under the city lights. In your old town, you would’ve been able to see all the stars, could’ve drawn out constellations if you set your mind to it. 

“So,” Sehun started. It was so quiet that the sound of his voice caused you to jolt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. “I think they put this in the wrong box.” 

At this, Sehun presented an envelope you recognize all too well. The seal of NCF rested on the left corner, followed by your name and address. Your stomach gripped, the pain eliciting all the nerves in your body upfront with hairs standing stiff and tall. This was the reason he wanted to have dinner?

You tried to mask your surprise. “Maybe it’s another Y/N at the apartment,” you excused. Your voice was steady, leveled, more than you could say for your body which was quivering from inside out. You played it off as if you were shivering from the sudden gust of wind when a guest walked in.

Sehun shook his head. “I checked with Mr. Kim,” your kind albeit nosy landlord. “He insisted on passing it onto you, but I told him that I would be seeing you tonight.” 

How does one learn the art of teleportation because at that moment, you wanted to disappear into thin air. You weren’t ready to face this. 

“Hey, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. I’m not asking any questions.” Sehun reassured you. If he noticed the sudden paleness in your face or breaths you were stifling, he didn’t comment on them. 

Your food arrived, and you both ate in silence. The food, although smelled delightful, tasted bland on your tongue that was as heavy as lead. Not a soul in this city knew of your past, of your family background whatsoever. There was never any need for anyone to know that your mother died of cancer or that your father was doing time.

“How do you know Liah?”

You glanced up from the ground where your eyes had been fixed. Sehun and you had left the restaurant after the quiet meal, and were ambling back to the apartment. You were stunned, not because of the way her name fell off his lips so naturally, you reasoned, but because he’s decidedly inquiring about your relationship with Liah. You gave Sehun the cliff notes version of your story, sparing him the unnecessary drama that had ensued. It was all ancient history since Liah was no longer in your life. 

Sehun listened as you recounted living at school with Liah, after which you considered asking him the same question back but couldn’t form the words. While you debated, Sehun does the unexpected and revealed, “Whatever you think you saw at the club last week, Liah and I aren’t a thing.” 

There was a park along the way, but cutting through it made the trek longer. Despite that, Sehun gestured with a nod towards the pathway lighted by warm street lights that did almost nothing to illuminate the cracked pavement.  

“We met that same night.” 

Without him telling you that, you figured that Liah would be bold enough to make a move on Sehun on their first meeting. Liah was known to be your building’s playgirl, if you will. Word spread around that she had slept with just about every guy in the dorms; you wouldn’t put it past her that she has done it in your shared room but you can’t say for sure since she’s never done it while you were in. 

Suddenly, there was a small pit of anger bubbling in you, the source of it being the memories of Liah tormenting you, but what fueled it, you don’t know. You felt your walls close in, and soon you were just plain annoyed. 

You shrugged your shoulders while hugging the package to your chest like some anchor, letting it fall heavily under your neck. “It’s honestly none of my business, even if you were. A thing.” You didn’t really mean to sound so cold, detached, but you couldn’t help the ice from freezing through your words, rendering even yourself speechless at how foreign you sounded.

Sehun stayed quiet at that, shoving his hands further in his pockets. 

“Listen,” you stopped in your tracks, making him stop as well before he turned to face you. “I’d appreciate it if you could just forget about this,” you held up the crumpled mail, “and maybe not associate me with Liah anymore. You probably have your reasons, and so do I, to ask you for this favor. It’ll be the one and only that I ask, so, please.” 

Sehun didn’t answer for a while. His face was lax, void of any emotion, as he looked at your face. Thanking the poor lighting, you doubt he could see how red you were turning. Your heart raced faster with every beat until you were sure it would burst. Then, his face crumbled into a look of confusion and desperation. “I can’t figure you out, Y/N.” 

It came out quicker than both of you would’ve expected when you shot back, “Then don’t.” 

Sehun shifted his weight to the opposite leg, showing for a split second that your sharp words affected him. He struggled to say something back, and when he didn’t for a minute, you turned and continued walking back to the apartment. 

The sigh Sehun released sounded of defeat laced with frustration before there was the sound of shoes scuffling as he jogged beside you. 

“Bongsan Hospital,” Sehun started, “About four years ago, that’s where we first met, sort of.” 

Bongsan Hospital was where your mother stayed during her chemotherapy. She was in and out of several facilities, getting treatment here and there, until finally in your second year of high school, she was admitted into Bongsan.You remember too many nights of sleeping on those god awful chairs they had. In the winters you’d bring a thick blanket for your mother and a small one for yourself. In the summer, you’d sit in the garden as you waited hours and hours for your mother to receive treatment. 

“What? How? I thought you were from the city this whole time,” you hesitated, stopping again in your tracks. 

“I am,” he answered vaguely, prompting you to raise a brow, asking for elaboration. “What? I grew up in the city.” 

“Sehun, the hospital,” you deadpanned.

“My mother’s doctor referred her to Bongsan, said the air was better for the condition of her lungs,” he explained. 

“Sehun, you are about the vaguest man on Earth.” You said impatiently. You hadn’t pegged Sehun to be a man of such tact, beating around the bush like a young boy hinting his mother for a new toy would do.

Sehun fought a smile from spreading across his face. “Do you remember a conversation that you had with a woman in the garden? She was painting when her palette was blown over by the wind?” 

The wheels in your head turned and turned until you recalled the memory. You remember helping a woman who frequently painted in the hospital’s garden when her paint palette had blown away, which she graciously thanked you for doing. She complimented your floral dress which you had only worn because your mother said that she missed the times when you were younger and she’d dressed you up. “Like the princess you are,” she had said. 

The next thing you remember was the woman asking if she could paint you, sitting on the verdant patch of land. What you don’t remember was a certain male being there. 

“What about the woman? Was she your mother?” Sehun nodded, making a show of acknowledging your keen memory. “But why don’t I remember you?” 

“Well, you ran away afterwards. I was only approaching when I heard my mom asking you to model for her,” he revealed, a fond smile gracing his lips. “You ran off so fast, you really don’t remember running into me?” 

You did, after the fact of him mentioning it. However, you don’t recall ever speaking to the woman-- Sehun’s mom-- again after the incident, and you haven’t been back to Bongsan since your mom’s passing. 

Which reminded you to ask Sehun, “How is she doing? Your mom.” 

“Good, I think. I visit when I have time, but she doesn’t want me to see her ‘not in her best form’. Her words, not mine.” He said, grinning when he finally sees something other than a frown that you’ve been wearing since dinner. 

It took a while but you both eventually made it back home. Sehun was fairly quiet the rest of the way home, and likewise you didn’t know what to say. It would be misleading to say that he was a gentleman and walked you to your door since he lived right across from you, but your heart stuttered at the fleeting idea nevertheless.

“I think I owe you an apology,” you said. “For walking off and for speaking so harshly.” 

The smile Sehun gave you was affable, and dare you say adorable. “I think I can take whatever you throw my way, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but think that his words were meant for more meaning than one. 

“Go on in,” he jerked his chin towards your apartment and you do so after offering him a closed lipped smile. “I’ll see you around,” he offered, leaving you the slightest chance to say otherwise. 

That night, you dreamt of your mother, but unlike the many times she’s appeared in your dreams, this one didn’t leave you waking in cold sweat and screaming for her.

[imaginekpoplikethis]

A charismatic roommate - Roomate Au - Kim Taehyung - Part 1

Henlo I’m back. Hopefully for a while. There’s a lot going on and this is one of the only ways to keep my mind off things.

Hope you enjoy 

Part 1 - Here

——

Today was supposed to be a special day. An anniversary of sorts. This particular day last year you had finally sprouted wings and left your parents’ home to take on a sense of individuality, the idea of having to work for yourself driving you to experience such a stepping stone head on. You had moved into a share house situated near your university. Your new home had all the necessities needed to live comfortably. If anything, you had managed to score a deal with the house. The number of rooms came to a total of seven. A kitchen and living room combined two bathrooms and four bedrooms. The rent was a miracle and you were elated when you had initially found this place.

That was until your roommate suddenly decided to move out. This meant you were the only one living in a house that could have four other people. Your initial reaction was that of shock and then worry hit you like a truck. The owner of the share house had let you know that if no one else moved in within the next few months she was going to turn the house into ‘the cafe of her dreams’. You were sure you were not going to find any other places to live since the academic year has already started. This is precisely the reason you found yourself posting on your universities forum, looking for a potential roommate. You didn’t dare tell your parents of your predicament, fearful that they would drag you back home despite the hefty journey it would take to travel to university from their home.

Surprisingly enough, you received several replies within the first week though after much consideration you chose not to accept any. This was mainly due to the fact that you knew of these people. For example, one happened to be the captain of the swimming club and although many would die over the chance to room with such a handsome man, the rumours and his personality almost had you deleting his reply and acting as if you had never seen it. He was in no way rude but the size of his ego was simply nauseating. He even happened to be in your class and had wasted no time in trying to romance you at the beginning of the year. The memory of your encounter with him almost made you scream out loud.

Your other replies consisted of three third year girls, notorious for their partying habits, a supposedly sketchy boy from the year above and another boy in his final year. All had fallen short of your expectations and so you notified them that you were in contact with a potential roommate and would let them know if the deal fell through. Of course this was a lie but you were not about to let them know you just didn’t think they’d be appropriate roommates. Around two days after your rejections, a new candidate privately messaged you, inquiring about the bills that would need to be paid. Glancing at the name of the user, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“KT? Ah, as in Katie? That’s got to be it…”

Typing a brief but detailed reply, you hit send and stood from your seat at your desk, preparing yourself for a shower. You weren’t expecting a reply for at least a few hours so you turned off your laptop and went about your evening plans. It seemed the whole exchange had slipped your mind since you found yourself waking up the next morning and jumped out of bed at the thought of a reply. As you had expected, a reply was sitting in your inbox.

‘If its fine with you, I’d like to view the place and move in as soon as possible. Could you let me know which day is good for you?’

Smiling to yourself, you let KT know that if need be, they could visit and potentially move in tomorrow afternoonto which they quickly answered that it would be perfect for them since they didn’t have much. Thus the twenty four hour wait began. You couldn’t help the excitement that had taken shelter within you and pondered over what kind of person this ‘KT’ was. You mentally slapped yourself for not asking what their actual name was but decided you could eventually ask them tomorrow. For now you had a class to get ready for, one which you finally realised you were late for. Cursing under your breath, you decided to skip on breakfast and ran straight to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and rushing back out to gather your belongings. Quickly fixing your appearance at the hallway mirror, you eventually left your apartment and began your rush to your university.

Finally Friday... this was the longest week of my life.

—— You had made it to the gates ten minutes late with a few other students also rushing to their classes. Fortunately for you, your lesson took place in a lecture room at the front of the campus so not much more time would be wasted. A text suddenly came in and you glanced briefly at your phone screen, noting it was from your friend Iris Inquiring about where you were. Deciding against replying back as you were bound to see her in less than a minute, you trudged to the door, ready for the walk of shame to your seat.  As you were going over the different apologies you could make to your lecturer you failed to notice the boy beside you slightly panicking. It was the sudden hand on your wrist that brought you back to your senses and your startled eyes came into contact with the glass door inches from your face.

“Whoa, great timing! I’m truly impressive.” You snapped your eyes to the boy who had saved you from a day of embarrassment, a grin plastered on his face.

“It’s too early in the morning to be walking into doors, haha.” Your face flushed and you let out a huff of amusement whilst quietly taking him in. He was quite handsome, probably the most handsome person you had come face to face with in a while. He also seemed to be fairly charismatic if his overly joyful attitude this early in the morning was anything to go by.

“Thank you… I can’t even begin to explain how embarrassing that would have been.” A small, appreciative smile spread on your lips and his grin only widened.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens to the best looking of us!”

Now you were slightly lost.

“You mean the best of us?” He stopped for a moment and just stared at you in confusion.

“Wait, it’s not what I just said? Is that why the old lady laughed at me the other day?”

As you tilted your head in even more confusion, an alarm startled the both of you and he grabbed his phone out of his pocket, eyes widening drastically at the sight displayed to him.

“No, I’m gonna be super late!” That seemed to snap you back into reality and you prepared to head into the building when he turned around and ran straight into the door. The sound seemed to echo throughout the mostly empty campus and you couldn’t help but feel second hand embarrassment.

The boy didn’t turn around, just exhaled slowly and opened the door, halting only to hold it open for you and then he was off.

He’s got one heck of a personality, I’ll give him that…

——

“He actually smacked into the same door he saved you from? Sounds like a sacrifice to me… but seriously how does that happen? That’s the kind of stuff that only happens in fiction, not real life.”

You were currently eating lunch with Iris, both of you having no more lessons for the day, and you had just finished filling her in on your encounter with the boy from earlier that morning.

“Maybe this is fiction and we’re in a book.”

Iris looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“Just kidding but trust me, it happened. I had enough second hand embarrassment for both of us.”

Noticing you both had finished your respective lunches, you gathered the rubbish from the tables and stood, Iris following suit.

“I can imagine... Well at least he’s cute. You probably should’ve gotten his number.”

You scoffed at the idea of asking a boy for his number.

“Me? Ask for someone’s number? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re a stranger or something. You know I don’t have the social skills to do that.”

Iris’ laughter had a small smile spreading on your face.

“I know, I know. I really I wish I was there, I could have gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never see him again. Anyway I need to get home and clean the house before ‘KT’ comes tomorrow.”

You both stopped to bid farewells, stepping in for a quick hug.

“Right! Tell me how it goes. I wanna know who this ‘KT’ person is.”

“Will do.”

——

You couldn’t help the nervous jitters that wracked your body as you waited for your potential new roommate. It was already twenty minutes past the initial time you had decided to set up the room viewing and ‘KT’ had yet to appear. You had in fact messaged them ten minutes prior and the lack of reply had you worried something may have happened. Despite your thought process, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions and actually call them. At least not yet. Speaking to strangers over the phone wasn’t really your strongest social skill so you normally tried to avoid doing just that. However, as the minutes waiting began to increase, you hesitantly reached for your phone, quickly going over the ways you could explain the sudden call if they happened to pick up.

Just as you unlocked your phone, a rhythmic knock on your door made you jump up from your seat and shuffle towards it.

“Finally, I was really starting to freak out.”

Mumbling under your breath, you placed your hand on the doorknob and eagerly

opened the door. A petite girl stood before you, a look of surprise adorning her round face.

“Um...  hi. Are you viewing the room?”

You cursed yourself for letting your anxiousness seep into your voice but she didn’t seem to notice, to your immense relief.

“I’m actually here for a housewarming party but I guess this is the wrong place...”

She pulled out her phone and unlocked it, glancing up at you somewhat apologetically.

“Er... if it’s not too much trouble could you help me find this place?”

Nodding, you took a look at the address she had pulled up on her phone and stepped out to better direct her.

“If you turn this corner, the place you’re looking for is the second building.”

She shot you an appreciative smile.

“Thank you so much! Have a great rest of the day.”

Smiling back at her, you nodded and reciprocated her farewell before turning back into the house. Just as you were about to close the door, a voice called out to you.

“Wait! I’m here and I’m sorry I’m late but I’m here!”

Releasing a sigh of relief, you swung the door back open and stepped back out, only to collide with a body and fall to the ground.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you would step completely out... Wait, I know you!”

Yeah right, I don’t know anyone this chaotic.

Lifting your head to get a good look at the wrecking ball that was ‘KT’, your eyes widened when they made contact with the same boy from yesterday. The first thing you could think to do in this current situation was blurt out whatever came to mind and apparently he had the same idea.

“You’re the cute girl who almost walked into the door!”

“You’re the pretty boy who ran into the door!”

Both of you slapped your hands over your mouths, a deep red spreading over your faces.

I can’t believe this sh-

——

You found yourself sitting in front of ‘KT’, also known as Kim Taehyung, two cups of coffee set in front of you both as you waited for him to give his final impressions of the share house.

“Woah! So you have this whole house all to yourself? It’s awesome!”

“Not really, I’m actually meant to be rooming with at least two other people hence the term share house. My last roommate bailed on me and the owner of the house can’t really run this place with one person living here.”

He nodded in understanding, his smile gradually growing.

“So in total... five people can stay here?”

“Yeah, as you saw there are three rooms for one person each and one room with two beds.”

“Cool! I haven’t heard of many mixed share houses... are there any rules?”

Besides the obvious rules such as not entering a room that isn’t yours without permission you could only think of one.

“Not really any special ones except there’s no mixed rooms. So you either have to share with a guy or pick the single room.”

“That’s fine. I think I’ve made my decision.”

He began to drum his hands on the table, imitating a drumroll. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you due to his goofy attitude. He enthusiastically pointed his thumb at himself and gave you a close eyed boxy grin.

“Say hello to your new roommate! I mean... if that’s fine with you, haha.”

A grin almost as wide as his own plastered itself on your face.

“That’s absolutely fine with me. So are you bringing stuff over today?”

“Yep! My friend is bringing stuff over in his car later tonight. So I’ll be done moving in by tomorrow afternoon.”

Standing from your seat, you grabbed the empty cups and made your way to the sink.

“Great. You should probably go and talk to the house owner. She has spare keys and a contract you need to sign. Don’t worry she’s sweet.”

“Will do! Thank you Y/N, you’re really kind.”

Your cheeks burned with the compliment.

“Thank you Taehyung, you too.”

——

[fmdjaewonarchive]

► alarm.

date(s): 25 july - 20 august 2020 mentions of: soo (very briefly, like, literally once) word count: 1,439 warnings: n/a details: a solo for the first two episodes of our songs filming, mainly focussed on the creative process behind writing alarm.

‘i’m feeling pretty confident’ had been one of jaewon’s closing remark when they had interviewed him as they had finished the first day of filming when they had just received the mission.

of course, that was a big fucking lie.

jaewon’s confidence was nowhere to be found, neither were any actual ideals as to how to tackle the mission. all there was was the overwhelming anxiety about how he was going to mess this up, how he was gonna fail before he even got to properly try.

a song that would convince everyone to listen to his music, that had to be a damn joke right? jaewon couldn’t name a single reason as to why anyone should listen to his music, he just made something that sounded good to his own ears and hoped anyone would share the sentiment. the longer he thought about it, the more he felt like truly he had nothing to do on this show.

what had he gotten himself into?

-----------------------------------------------------

the thing was, jaewon wasn’t a composer. he had dabbled around in it a little bit but none of it had ever been shared with the world and that was for a very simple reason, he didn’t think his work was anywhere near professional enough to be released for other people to hear.

dimensions entertainment seemed to agree with that, which was why the had put him in one of the companies many studios with one of the in-house producers.

(a part of jaewon felt like this was cheating. surely, plenty of the other contestants possessed the skill to manage the entire creative process behind their songs themselves. didn’t that in itself mean they were much more talented than he was? what did they still need this fucking show for?)

“the theme is identity right?” the producer asked. he knew the man decently well, they’d worked together on a few songs through the years which at least meant that he was familiar with jaewon’s music to some degree. “so what of your currently released songs describes your identity the most? that should give us a decent starting point for creating an instrumental you can work with.”

jaewon’s eyebrows furrowed together at the question. a long, silent moment passing as he contemplated the answer. “anything from biorhythm.” he responded, expression wry as he remembered his last album, what a mess that had been. “roommates only or still if you want me to get specific.”

“and you want another song like those on biorhythm?” the producer asked. it was a fair question. if there was one thing jaewon had been guilty of so far with his music it was probably getting stuck in his comfort zone, any songs that he had a big creative input in had always been written for himself, not because he had been tasked to do so but because they came easily to him. he had yet to really branch out of that safe zone.

but this mission was about his identity and if anything described his identity well, it was probably the biorhythm album.

“yeah, for now i do.” jaewon admitted with a light nod. “might i actually manage to get somewhere on this show i can worry about experimenting or thinking outside the box or whatever.” if he would even get that far and with how it was going so far, jaewon didn’t know if he dared to hope for that. “for now i think i need something familiar, something that fits in well with the rest of my music.” in an afterthought he added “like, my actual music, not whatever dimensions decided my sound was for that cluster fuck of a last album.” and the comment earned him a humored scoff from the producer before they got to work.

they ended up working way longer than the initially scheduled studio time, evening bleeding into the night before either of them really realized it. but the hard work paid off because by the time he bids the producer a good night and goes home, jaewon has the bare bones of a song. so far, the track was a gentle piano tune that blended into a deep, more electronic bass sound in the chorus that added to the overarching melancholic feel of the song.

most importantly, it sounded like his song. the producer had painstakingly made sure that every sound, every beat had been to jaewon’s liking, perfectly tailored to a song that sounded so entirely his that it felt like the man had been reading his mind. only it sounded better than anything jaewon could have ever made with his own two hands.

it managed to calm his nerve some, having a solid starting point to start working from. maybe, this wasn’t doomed to go wrong after all, maybe jaewon could manage to stand his ground in this competition after all. for the first episodes then at least.

also, he really owed this poor producer something for keeping him up till like 3 am.

-----------------------------------------------------

logically, the next step was to write the lyrics, simple enough right?

except it wasn’t.

it hadn’t been for a lack of trying, there had been multiple days so far where jaewon had locked himself in his home studio, trying to force himself to write the damn song already with very little success. there had been a few drafts, all of which he had abandoned long before they could really take a solid shape. none of it was simply good enough.

how was he gonna prove himself as a songwriter if he couldn’t even write one fucking song?

the biggest problem was that jaewon was slowly running out of time. he had told himself to make sure he had the bulk of his work done by the 7th of august. not because he would be pushing the deadline too soon otherwise, hell, the final version didn’t have to be in till the 30th. but unity made their comeback on the 7th (their first one in over a year) and jaewon knew it would take a huge toll on the time he had to write, he had to be done before then.

instead, the 7th came and went without a single lyric written.

it was the 12th already (or maybe technically the 13th already judging by how late at night it was) when he found time to withdraw himself into his home studio again and truth be told, jaewon had little faith he would actually be able to get anything done. he was absolutely drained, the day had been long and hectic and judging from the fact he had to do the whole circus over again the next day as well, starting way too early in the damn morning, he probably direly needed his sleep.

god, all jaewon wanted was to sleep in, just one day, no alarms or anything.

now wait a damn minute…

maybe tonight would amount to something after all.

for someone that had been so lethargic mere minutes ago, jaewon managed to pull up audio file of the track in mere seconds, listening to the instrumental in it’s entirety a time or two, tapping his fingers along on the desk to the music before he began writing.

don’t set it today alarm, alarm, alarm, close, close, close your eyes

he finished the entire first draft that night, only forcing himself to put the pen down so he would at least sleep. the irony of the situation mocked him as he put his alarm for 6am before getting in bed and wrapping himself around soo for a mere 2 hours of sleep but he didn’t dwell on it.

-----------------------------------------------------

it took him another two late night sessions to finish up the lyrics for the final product but truth be told, said studio time was divided between nearly falling asleep and actually writing as unity’s promotions began to weight down on him harder the more they progressed.

not that there was much of a rush. the official recording was only scheduled for the 20th of august to incorporate whatever working points that had come from the live preview he had given during filming a few days earlier into the final version of the song.

he was yet again aided by the same producer that he had been working with before, the one that had so kindly composed the instrumental for him. “you ready?” the man asked through microphone connecting to the recording booth.

“yeah, yeah let’s do this.” jaewon responded, words followed with a half-hearted thumbs up before adjusting the headphones on his head. he looked almost confident in the whole thing.

almost.

[robinrunsfiction]

Consider..Demon!Gerard (he’s such a sweetheart,,calls herbsugar,,darling-also super shady tho)finds the reader dying (mugged maybe?)And brings her back to life(the afterlife??)she lives with him now because thats what happens when a demon saves u ig?Anyways theyre kinda falling in love,,she falls asleep on him on the couch one night,,the next night what do u know things happen and things are said and they end up making out in their underwear in her room,, suuper fluffy,, they fall asleep

Have You Heard the News That You’re Dead?

Pairing: Demon!Gerard Way x Female ReaderRating: TeenRequested By: AnonWord Count: ~2,400Author’s Note: Hi, my name is Robin and I am physically incapable of writing a short story, but this is super super late so I hope that makes up for it! I use the prompt “Everyone has a guardian angel except you. You have a guardian demon. He deals with things in a much more violent fashion, but much more effective.” from @writing-prompt-s as my guide for this one. Also TW: for mentions of death, but if you didn’t get that from the ask, I can’t help you.

You always knew you were different. You could tell the vibe you gave off wasdifferent of that of everyone else. Dogs growled or ran away when you walkeddown the street. Old ladies would clutch their pearls. If it hadn’t been likethat for as long as you could remember, it would be alarming to say the least.What you weren’t aware of was the fact that most people had a guardian angellooking out for them, and you had a guardian demon.

That’s not to say it made you a bad person, you just had a different way of moving through life. Sure trouble found you more often than others, but you were still having a hell of a good time. That is until the night you stumbled alone out of that bar in a drunken stupor. You’d be fine you reasoned. You were always fine. Until that guy with a knife appeared and you didn’t have any money left to give him and that answer angered him, and then you were bleeding on the ground.

The last thing you saw was a man with black eyes and black hair and a pale face running up, muttering obscenities under his breath, clearly panicked. All youcould wonder was why there was no one to look out for you at that moment.

~

You woke up in a bed that wasn’t familiar in a room you’d never seen. You sat upand saw your shirt still had the hole from where you’d been stabbed, but yourskin was unbroken underneath. You had been certain you were dying on that street. Was this some kind of weird hospital? Had you been in a coma for years? What was going on?

You got out of the bed and moved quietly toward the door. As you wandered down the dark hallway, you could hear music playing. Following the sound, you found yourself in a living room, where someone, a man with black hair, sat with his back to you.

“‘Scuse me,” you started and he turned to look at you with those same black eyes you saw when you were on the street. “What the fuck?” you gasped asyou backed away. “Where am I? Where did you take me?” You demanded.

He sat down the book he was reading and strode over to you. “My name isGerard. I’m your guardian demon and for the sake of honesty, its my fault you’redead.”

“I’m dead?!” You shrieked. “Demon? Am I in hell?!”

“Not exactly. You’re at my place, which dimensionally speaking, is earth-adjacent… on the hell side. Come sit down, I’ll explain everything.”

“No! I wanna go home!”

Gerard winced. “That’s the thing sugar, this is your home now.”

Gerard had to rush to help you sit down, as your legs seemingly were not working at the moment and you looked like you were about to collapse.

“You see,” he started once you were seated, “most of you humans have guardian angels. A few of you lucky ones get us, guardian demons.”

“How is that lucky? I’m doomed to hell before I even get a crack at life?” Youargued.

“Oh you aren’t doomed, you’re destined to become a demon as well. Knowing you guarding another luck human soul until its time they join our ranks.”

“Then what am I doing here?”

“You weren’t supposed to be dead yet. I fucked up.”

“Shocker.”

Gerard descended upon you, his face inches from yours. “Oh sugar, didn’t I dowell for the last however many years? Didn’t you have a life anyone could wishfor?”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just swallowed thickly.

“I thought so,” he said righting himself. “Besides, my duty to you is not relieved now that you are deceased. We need to keep you hidden here so management doesn’t know that I-”

“Fucked up and let me die.”

Gerard glared down at you. “Exactly. But don’t worry sugar, I intend to keeptaking the best care of you. I promise you that.”

Despite Gerard’s explanation of events you still weren’t totally convinced he wasn’t full of shit. That was until he left you alone in the living area for a whileand you snuck over to the window to look out.

His apartment was a couple stories up on a busy street. But instead of the usualbustle of cars and people there were what could only be described as creatures.

Sure some of them, like Gerard, looked human, save for the black eyes, or horns sticking out of their hair. Some looked like something you’d read about in ahorror novel. You watched wide eyed as they passed along the sidewalk belowyou, going about their demonic business.

“Believe me now?” Gerard asked, startling you away from the window.

“Sure,” you said sitting down again. It was all too much to take. “But what am Igonna until my destined death day?”

“Think of it as if its one of those days you called out sick from work so you couldsit and watch hours of TV.”

“I’m doomed to watch Judge Judy and Maury forever?! I mean one day is fine, but for eternity?!”

“No, anything you want to watch, read, listen to, its all at your disposal,” heexplained.

“Will I need to do live human stuff like… eat or sleep again?”

“Totally optional,” he said. “Just like all other carnal needs.”

You just rolled your eyes and went to examine the bookshelf. Not surprisingly itwas filled with books on the occult, as well as a lot on history, art and music.

“’Bout what I expected,” you said running your fingers over the spines of thebooks, “for a demon.” When you glanced up Gerard was watching youintently and it made you shiver involuntarily.

“Help yourself to any of them. I have to go meet up with some associates. Don’tanswer the door if anyone comes around, remember, you’re alive.”

You just rolled your eyes as you pulled a book off the shelf and sat down to read.

~

You had no idea how long had passed, time being more of a human construct it would appear by the lack of clocks in the apartment. Or maybe they weren’t andGerard’s lack of time management was the cause of your current, or ratherpermanent, state of being.

Eventually you got up and watched the demons on the street for a while, then wandered through the rest of the apartment. Who knew Demons would be so sensible as to have guest bedrooms? The closet will full of clothes that seemed to be similar to the style you like while you were alive. You changed out of the shirt you died in, a thought that made you shudder, and into one that was less holey.

Moving on you noted there was no bathroom, but that made sense given what he had said about things that were “optional”. The kitchen was impressivelystocked with rich foods and fancy wines and liquors. Maybe Gerard liked toentertain? Well he wasn’t doing that impressive of a job of it right now youthought as you found yourself getting bored.

As if on cue, Gerard burst through the door. “Miss me sugar?” He askedas he breezed into the kitchen where you were still standing, feeling slightlyguilty, like you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been.

“Not really,” you mumbled.

“Oh come on sugar,” he said slinking up to you and grazing your cheek with hisfingers, “is that anyway to talk to your roommate?”

You made a disgusted noise and rolled your eyes before pushing past him.

“This is gonna be a fucking long eternity,” he muttered under his breath.

~

The thing you most enjoyed about not being alive was similar to your favorite part of being alive: sleeping. You would sleep as long as you wanted without any repercussions or judgement from others. Gerard certainly didn’t mind, as this left more time for him to do whatever he wanted since he no longer had to watch over you so closely.

Soon though he realized he missed it. He was fond of you, as he had to be based on the nature of the work, but he always enjoyed making trouble for the people who pissed you off during the day. Now he watched as a dark cloud started to gather over your waking hours, the shelves of books and movies and music no longer drawing your interest like it used to. One evening he walked into the living room to find you staring blankly at the wall.

“Novelty of it has worn off, hasn’t it?” He asked.

“Yea, and the permanence is setting in,” you sighed.

Gerard sat down next to you. “I am truly sorry. You probably don’t believe me,but its true.”

“What happened that night?” You asked as you let your head fall against hisshoulder and he moved his arm so it was around you.

“Remember that guy that was bothering you at the bar earlier in the night?”

“Yea…”

“I scared him off, that’s why he left you alone. He found someone else and theywere gonna hook up in the bathroom and I made sure that the whiskey he wasdrinking lived up to its reputation.”

You chuckled at the thought of the douche who had been talking such big game all night not being able to perform.

“I got carried away, but I’ve always hated guys like that,” Gerard admitted.“There really is a special place in hell for them.”

“Good,” you said, as you settled into him even more. A small smile tugged at his lips. “What else did you do for me?”

Gerard reclined to get more comfortable as he launched into his favorite stories of when he dealt out cosmic retribution on your behalf.

“You’re evil, but like, good evil,” you hummed as you slid down so you were laying against his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively.

The next thing you knew you were being awakened by a hammering at the door. You both sat bolt upright and looked at each other.

“Gerard, you home?” a voice called from the other side.

“Go hide in your room,” he whispered and you hurried off and Gerard went to thedoor.

“Frank, what’s going on?” Gerard asked coolly.

“You got a hot little succubus in there?” Frank asked trying to look past Gerard.

“What’s going on Frank?” Gerard asked again, sounding more exasperated.

“Management is starting to ask about your human. No one has seen her in a while. You still keeping track of her?”

“Of course,” Gerard lied easily. “She’s just been dealing with some shit, so she’sbeen laying low.”

Frank nodded skeptically. “Just looking out for you. I’d hate to have you get fired,that would mean more work for me,” he laughed. “Besides, you know what happens when you get fired.”

Gerard nodded, trying not to let the nerves show. He remembered the last time another demon got fired. He couldn’t sleep for weeks it shook him so bad.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be, I know you got someone in there,” Frank smirked as he left.

Gerard went back to your room and found you hiding in the closet. “You’re good.”

“What’s going on?” You asked getting up.

“I’m gonna have to go topside and act like you’re still alive, or else I’m as deadas you.”

“Demons can die?”

“Not exactly the same, but it sure as shit ain’t pretty when it happens,” Gerard muttered.

“I wish I could help.”

“Not your fault, sugar,” he said as he headed back toward the front door. “I gottaclean up my mess for a while.”

“When will you be back?”

“You’ll barely know I’m gone,” he winked.

You spent what felt like forever sitting around, bored and lonely and thinking.Thinking for hours about what Gerard was risking keeping you here, and everything he had done for you your whole life. When the door finally opened again, you jumped up excitedly.

“Hey sugar,” he greeted you with a smile.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yea, we’re good for a while,” he said shrugging off his jacket. “I don’t thinkanyone will be asking questions anytime soon.”

“Good,” you said as you walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug.

Gerard stiffened momentarily, surprised by the affection, but then softened andwrapped his arms around you as well. “You decided you like me then?”

“Maybe it’s just Stockholm Syndrome, but yea, I think I do kinda like you after all. I have really did have the time of my life when I was alive, and I know you’re tothank for a lot of that,” you said before leaning up and placing a kiss on hischeek.

When you pulled back, he was looking down at you fondly. He reached up and ran his fingers along your jaw and leaned in and kissed you deeply. His lips tasted like coffee and red hots, as his arms wrapped around you and held you closer to him. You ran your hands through his dark hair and allowed his tongue to slip in against yours.

You pulled back and Gerard looked at you in confusion until you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him along back to the bedroom. He started to undo the buttons of his shirt as you peeled yours off as well. You pulled Gerard back to you again and your lips met as you tumbled against the bed. Gerard held himself over you as he undid his pants, and you slipped out of yours as well. Clad only in your respective undergarments, you continued your heated make out session, tongues moving together, hands roaming over bare skin, marks left upon necks. After what could have been 10 minutes, or maybe a decade, Gerard pulled back and looked down at you “(YN), I’ve never felt like this before,” he whispered.

“What, demons don’t do emotions?”

“Yea, but not usually love.”

You looked up at him and grinned. “Yea, I think I’d like to spend eternity here with you.”

Gerard grinned and rolled over to your side. You curled against him as he wrapped his arms around you and you both fell asleep peacefully.

[thatesqcrush]

First Time Hijinks

Harvard! Rafael Barba x Reader. Using two prompts from here: # 6. “I wasn’t expecting it to be… THAT big.” and #28: Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.” as requested by @garturbo - companion piece to Study Buddies, found here.

AN: To avoid any squick, I am placing Rafael/reader in their early 20s.

CW: language, making out/suggested language. 

Word count: 1827

Tags: @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @niyashell @tropes-and-tales - anyone else just ask.

“So, is today the day?” your roommate Sheila asked you, as she grabbed her books. As she shoved the books in her bookbag, she looked over at you. You looked at her quizzically.  “You know! You and Rafael...” she clicked her tongue while giving you a playful nudge. “I don’t know. I hope so. We’ve been taking things slow,” you replied, as you shrugged on your Harvard sweatshirt. “I am about to combust if I had to be completely truthful. He’s so...! One look with those green eyes and I want to melt.” “Make the move! He’d be nuts to turn you down,” Sheila replied, grabbing a water bottle. “You know my folks are coming into town tonight and I am going home for the weekend. So you’ll have the whole room to yourself.” You nodded as you pulled your hair into a ponytail. “Okay; we’ll see.” *** Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you approached your boyfriend who was sitting against a tree in the main quad. His nose was deep in Legal Ethics, a highlighter hanging off his mouth. “Hey there stranger,” you greeted. Rafael looked up at you and his green eyes lit up at the sight of you. He dropped his book, and put the cap on his highlighter so he could stand. He tossed the highlighter to the grass. “Hey,” Rafael acknowledged. He pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the lips. You looked up at him, and smoothed his hair which was tussled, likely due to him running his hands through his hair when he was stressed, which for him, was often. Your hand grazed his cheek and you ran your thumb against it, stroking it softly. Rafael closed his eyes and turned his face into your palm, pressing a kiss into it. Smiling, you pulled away so that you could walk past Rafael and sit on the blanket he had been sitting on. “How goes the studying?” You asked as you opened your own books. Rafael sighed, frustrated. “It’s going.” He sat next to you and the two of you began to do your work. “We look like an old married couple,” you murmured as you reached for your glasses in your bag and slipped them on. Rafael pressed a kiss to the top of your head, chuckling. An hour later, your eyes were beginning to glaze over from reading and re-reading your notes for your upcoming quiz. Rafael was still in deep thought, and you watched him cross reference his notes with the textbook. Looking around to make sure no eyes were on you, you cuddled closer to Rafael and raised the bottom half of the blanket so that it covered you. “Cold?” Rafael asked, still engrossed in his work. “Something like that,” you purred, remembering your roommate’s advice. You slipped your hand to the front of Rafael’s jeans, and rubbed. Rafael shifted and looked at you, his eyebrow raised. You could feel him harden your palm, so you continued your ministrations. “Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that,” Rafael coughed, shifting once more. “Well, why don’t we go back to my dorm, and we can finish there? Sheila’s gone for the weekend.” You moved your hand and Rafael bit the inside of his cheek at the loss of contact. Rafael let out a deep breath. He looked at you intently, “Are you sure?” You nodded. “Never more sure.” Rafael pressed a kiss to your lips. “Then tonight. I really need to finish this though.” Seeing your crestfallen face, he added for good measure, “I want our first time to be special; not rushed. Plus you have a quiz to take in 10 minutes. You pressed another kiss to his lips and then gazed at your watch. “Shit, you’re right. I have to get to class. I’ll see you tonight. Wish me luck.” You both said your goodbyes. Rafael watched you take off. He had a nervous knot in his belly. The last person he had been with was Yelina right after graduation. Alex’s family had thrown a graduation party for Los Tres Mosqueteros de Jerome Avenue. They all got drunk on peppermint Schnapps and Coronas. Yelina led Rafael to the bathroom and against the sink, among the shampoo bottles and mouthwash is how he lost his virginity. On and off, the summer leading to college, they continued but once Rafael left for Harvard, Yelina had no further interest in pursuing anything. All Yelina had done was criticize him. The one saving grace, in his own personal opinion, was that he happened to be well endowed. And now, Y/N, his wonderful girlfriend wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Rafael ran his hands through his hair, stressed. He was your stereotypical broke college student without two pots to piss in, at Harvard on a full ride. “How on Earth,” he wondered, “...am I going to make it special?” Sighing, he found he couldn’t concentrate any further. Initially he decided to head back down to his room, but then he decided to take a detour to off campus. He was going to make tonight special, regardless of whatever Yelina thought of him. *** You sighed, as you swiped your key card to your dorm. Your final year meant tons of seminars, each class longer than last. You had gone to Rafael’s room but your knocks went answered. You assumed that your boyfriend was busy at the library. You were tempted to find him and distract him, but you didn’t dare. You knew for Rafael, his studies were important. So imagine your surprise when you walked in to your room and found your boyfriend sitting in the common room, with flowers in hand. “Rafi? What’s going on?” you questioned. “I - I hope you don’t mind. You said I could use your key code anytime,” Rafael replied. You look at the room, there was at least two other bouquets set up. And candles. Lots of them. “Of course not. Wait, what’s going on? I thought you’d be at the library,” you continued shutting the door behind you. You dropped your shoulder bag to the floor and placed your ID on the top of the mini fridge. “Earlier, I thought you wanted to... so I...” Rafael sputtered, his cheeks flushing. You smiled brightly. “That’s right.” You approached Rafael, placing your hands on his chest. “I did. And I do.” You sealed the distance between your bodies and pressed a kiss to him. The kiss was hesitant at first, but grew with intensity. Rafael reached down to grab your butt, squeezing tightly. You groaned and pressed into Rafael. As Rafael began to kiss down your neck, you realized something smelled awful. You pushed Rafael away. “Do you smell something?” Rafael crinkled his nose, and covered his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I do...” He searched the room with eyes, until he noticed the source of the offending smell. “The candle!” he shouted. One of the candles was just a little too close to wall hanging, which started to catch on fire. Before either of you could react, the alarm signaled and the overhead sprinkler system went off. You both yelped as water came down from overhead. Rafael climbed onto your desk and reached up to turn off the knob. By the time it was off, the door had swung open and you found yourself staring face to face with your RA and a public safety officer - they were both less than pleased. *** You and Rafael were both written up and you were on the hook to pay for any damages incurred. Luckily there were nothing major, just a damp carpet and some wet textbooks that would eventually air and dry out. Rafael sat on your now damp bed, his head in his hands. “I just wanted to make tonight special for us.” You sat next to him, placing your head on his shoulder. “Oh Rafi, I know. But, it will be special because it’s us.” You looked up and gave him a sympathetic smile. Rafael looked down at you and smiled. “You’re absolutely right.” “Of course I am,” you teased. “Obviously,” you added for good measure, rolling your eyes. You stood up and grabbed clothes from your drawer. “Let me change and lets get out of here.” Rafael nodded and watched as you stripped off your soaked clothes. He swallowed hard as he took in your semi-nude form. You caught him staring in the mirror that hung off your door and you smirked. “See something you like?” you turned, slipping on your jeans, slightly bouncing as you did so, as you shimmied them on. You thought it was absolutely endearing how Rafael’s ears turned pink. “Yes,” Rafael quipped in return. “Very much so.” “Then lets get out of here.” You pulled Rafael up and the two of you headed to his room. *** You groaned as Rafael sucked on the hollow of your neck. Rafael gently leaned you back so you were laying on his bed. He pulled back up, his arms outstretched on your sides. Rafael looked down upon you, your hair had fanned around you, creating an almost halo like effect. Your lips were parted, slightly swollen from your make out session. Rafael’s gaze moved further south towards your rib cage, which expanded and deflated with each breath. You breasts were encased in a soft pink bra and Rafael was eager to see the flesh the encased. His erection strained painfully against his jeans. He went to kiss you once more, but Yelina’s words rang in his ear. You noticed Rafael’s hesitation and could see something was worrying him. You pushed yourself so you were sitting up, leaning on your elbows. “Rafi, what is going on? Are you okay?” Rafael sighed, before proceeding to spill everything about Yelina. You sat fully up and drew your knees to your chest, listening to Rafael intently. By the time Rafael finished pouring his heart, he felt deflated - both physically and emotionally. Your eyes narrowed. “Whoever this Yelina chick is, she can go fuck right off,” you replied sternly. “She should be so lucky that I haven’t met her. She is missing out on someone so wonderful! Better for me,” you finished with a chuckle. But then, you softened, and reached for Rafael’s hand. “Rafael, I am not that experienced either. We will figure out a rhythm, so to speak.” Rafael gave your hand a squeeze. “Are you sure you want to do this? No pressure, I promise.” He searched your eyes for any hesitation. You pushed Rafael back, and climbed over him. Reaching behind, you unhooked your bra and flung it to the floor. “What do you think?” *** You stroked Rafael’s chest hair, as you laid on his chest, listening to his thumping heart. Both of you were sweaty and out of breath, from your intimate actions. “That was... wow,” Rafael managed to get out between breaths. You nodded. “Yes. Yes it was. But, can I just say, I wasn’t expecting it to be… THAT big.” Rafael moved so he was sitting up, propped on his side. “Are you complaining?” His hand ghosted over your abdomen and you could feel your skin prickle. You smiled and wrapped your arm around Rafael’s neck, simultaneously pulling him down while you leaned up to kiss him.

FIN

[gaygent37]

A Helping Hand - Day 7

No-Set-Prompt-List-tober, October 7: GRAVEYARD

JayDick, Undead/Zombie Jason, college student Dick, oblivious Dick, nudity but no sex,  722 words

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It was late, and the study session had gone on longer than Dick had anticipated. He had also forgotten his phone in his dorm, so he could not call a cab. 

So he pulled his leather jacket closer around himself, and started the trek back to the college campus. He had decided to take the shortcut route, through the graveyard and through the woods behind the campus grounds, which cut nearly a mile and a half off of his path. 

While Dick was very familiar with the shortcut route, at night, it was a different story. During the day, the graveyard was completely harmless. No one ever told stories of it being haunted to anything weird happening around it, other than the fact that it seemed creepy at night. Fog always rolled in around that time of night, and Dick was just lucky enough to catch that hour. 

He took a deep breath, adjusted his bag on his shoulder, and stepped onto the graveyard grounds. 

It was a rather small graveyard, and it was relatively well lit because of how often people cut through it, so the city put lights along the path. 

Still, with the fog, it was kind of hard to see. Dick walked quickly, humming quietly to himself to drown out the silence. 

Just as he cleared the graveyard and reached the small wooded area, Dick heard something stumbling behind him. 

“Woah!” someone shouted, followed by a heavy thump. 

Dick whirled around in alarm. Lying on the path behind him was a man who looked like he had crawled through dirt. His white t-shirt was covered in dirty and his hair was messy like he had woken up from a year-long nap. 

The man groaned and slowly sat back up, rubbing his head. He raised his head and spotted Dick. 

“Oh, hey,” the man said, his face scrunching up. “Do you mind telling me where I am?” he asked. “I think I’m a bit lost.”

“Oh,” Dick said, glad that the man had not stood up and started chasing him. “You’re at the local graveyard. Y’know, the one behind Gotham College?”

“Gotham... I know Gotham,” the man murmured to himself. “But why?”

“Do you go to school at Gotham?” Dick asked, taking a tentative step towards the man. 

“I don’t... know,” the man said in confusion. “I can’t remember anything.”

“You can’t?” Dick asked, eyebrows shooting up. “Like nothing at all? Not even your name?”

“My name... My name is Jason,” the man said. “I think.”

“You think?” Dick asked. “Is it something similar to Jason?”

“No, no,” the man said, standing up. “I saw it on the grave marker. Jason Todd. I died five years ago, apparently.” He gave Dick a smile. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand. 

Dick hesitated, giving Jason a strange look. Then, he started laughing as he took the hand. “Ah, you’re funny! I’m Dick. Like Richard,” he said. “I think you just hit your head, and you can’t remember anything. But that’s a good story!” Dick said. “I’ll have to remember it.”

Jason continued smiling, but he still looked slightly confused. “Right,” he said.

Dick shook his head, still laughing to himself. “Anyway, Jason,” he said. “The local clinic is closed for the night, and our school nurse is on maternity leave and her replacement is incompetent, so I can drive you to the hospital in the city tomorrow morning, if you’d like? I don’t really have much knowledge on amnesia, but I’m sure the city doctors would know.

“You can stay with my tonight! My roommate is out of town for the weekend,” Dick explained. 

Jason stared at Dick. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you very much, Dick.”

“Sure thing!” Dick said. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll remember by tomorrow morning, and I’ll get to hear this story. C’mon, my dorms are just through these woods.”

~~~

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Dick asked. “I’ve got water, coffee, tea, juice, no alcohol, sorry... energy drinks-”

“Just water is fine,” Jason said. “Do you have any food? I feel like I haven’t eaten in... five years.”

Dick laughed again. “I’ve got some chips? Oh! I saved half a sandwich from dinner earlier today!” He pulled a box out of the fridge and passed it to Jason. “It’s turkey!”

As Jason ate, Dick sat backwards in his chair, leaning his chin on his arms on the back of his chair. He smiled almost fondly as he watched Jason eat. The man, though strange and dirty, was very attractive. 

“Oh!” Dick said, standing up as Jason finished the last bite of his sandwich. “You need a shower and some clothes to wear,” he said. “I’ll see if I can find anything large enough for you... Shower is just through the door. You’ll have to give the water a second to heat up though.”

Jason wordlessly headed towards the shower, and a minute later, Dick heard the shower running. He shot a text off to his brother, telling him about his crazy night, then he headed to his closet to see if he had an old sweatshirt that was big enough for Jason. 

By the time the shower had shut off, Dick still had not found anything that could fit. There was a pair of boxers that his ex had left there, and since it was the only thing that might have fit Jason, Dick decided to surrender it. 

He heard Jason come out of the shower and wander around the dorm. Dick pulled himself out of his closet, holding the boxers. 

“Hey, I couldn’t find-”

Dick froze. It was not because Jason came out naked. He was wearing a towel around his waist, but he had also pulled on Dick’s leather jacket, and fuck, he looked good. Better than Dick did. 

Dick swallowed hard as he watched Jason marvel over the feel of the leather on his bare skin. 

“I like your jacket,” Jason said with a smile. “I used to have one, I think.”

“O-Oh,” Dick said, barely getting his voice to work. “You, uh, you look really good in it.”

“You think so?” Jason asked, glancing up at Dick. 

Dick nodded. 

Jason sat down on Dick’s bed and pulled the jacket tighter around his firm body. His towel rode up so that the split of the towel revealed Jason’s muscular thigh. The knot of the towel strained around Jason’s hips. 

“Thank you for letting me borrow your shower, by the way,” Jason said. He noticed the boxers in Dick’s hands. “Oh, are those for me?”

Dick nodded again, mechanically handing them over. Jason loosened the knot and let the towel fall open. Dick gulped, unable to keep his eyes away. 

Jason laughed at his expression. “Are you okay, Dick?”

“You’ve got... a very nice body,” Dick whispered. 

Jason looked pleased. “Thank you. I noticed it myself in the bathroom. At least I died good-looking!”

Dick licked his lips. The movement did not go unnoticed by Jason. 

The man smirked and set the boxers aside, spreading his legs a little wider. “Wanna take a closer look, Dickie?”

Dick stepped forward. Then he did it again. He put himself between Jason’s legs, and slowly lowered himself to his knees. Without thinking twice, he put his hands on Jason’s thighs, feeling the warm, tight muscles under his palms. 

“Can I?” he whispered, his voice a bit hoarse. 

Jason’s bright blue eyes glittered as he looked down at Dick. He nodded, and Dick started running his hands up Jason’s thighs. 

~~~

When Dick woke up the next morning, he was tucked into his bed, and his leather jacket was folded on his desk. Jason was nowhere to be seen, and Dick never saw him again. 

But the next time Dick passed through the graveyard, he did notice a gravestone a few rows from the path. The gravestone of one Jason Todd who died five years ago, and the dirt of the grave had been recently disturbed.

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This has no porn and is so short because I didn’t have time to write much. Hope you guys liked it anyway.

[a-diary-for-seoulmates]

[Feb. 14, 2019 7:30 am]

The blaring of your alarm coming from the nightstand woke you up earlier than you would’ve liked, but you knew it would be worth it later when you saw the smile on your best friends face. You were determined to do something special for Jaehyun’s birthday this year. You hated how he always ended up feeling forgotten, as everyone was too busy with their own Valentine’s Day plans to celebrate with him. You had even been guilty of that crime a couple times, and the heartbroken puppy look he gave you when you would tell him you had a date absolutely shattered you. You needed to hurry if you wanted to get everything done in time, so you pressed pause on your thoughts and climbed out of bed, pulling your clothes on and  doing your hair and makeup before you rushed down the stairs. You nearly fell in the process.

Once you were out the door, things seemed to be going smoother. You’d made it to the the shopping district just before the morning rush had set in, and practically sprinted into one of the shops just as the doors opened to pick up Jaehyun’s gifts you’d ordered. After that, you managed to get back on the road without any major delays and headed towards the little hole in the wall breakfast place Jaehyun always dragged you to. You had called in your order while you were driving, so by the time you got there your unusually large order was ready to go. You tried your best to ignore the stares your received as you paid and carried the several bags of food out the doors; you couldn’t afford to let anything slow you down today.

Your final stop was the coffee and confectionery shop near his dorm. You checked the time on your stereo as you climbed back into the drivers seat. 8:25 am. It had taken you longer than expected to get the food situated in the back seat so that it wouldn't tip over and you were now pushed for time. You knew it would take you at least another 20 minutes to drive to the coffee shop, leaving you only 15 minutes to get in, order your coffees and sweets, and get to the dorms before your best friend woke up. The thought of being late made you drive a little faster than you were really comfortable with, but luckily you made it to the shop a few minutes earlier than expected. It was a good thing you had, too, because you had to wait in a longer line than you had accounted for. You left the shop with your coffees and a little bag of confections (it was Valentine’s Day too, after all) and headed straight for your car.

Thankfully, you met Ten and Johnny in the parking lot as they were leaving for the day, and they kindly helped you carry everything back to the dorm so you wouldn’t have to make so many trips. Since you didn’t have to wait to be let in, you set everything out before heading towards Jaehyun’s room to see if he was awake.

You were just about to knock on the door when it swung open, leaving you face to face with a sleepy-eyed, messy-haired, half naked Jaehyun. It was a sight you weren’t used to seeing, even though you had known him for years. You tried not to stare at his muscles, and focused instead on the somewhat surprised look on his face which you assumed mirrored your own.

“Y/n, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be at work right now.” He asked as he stepped back into his room and began looking for a t-shirt. You stayed in your place in the doorway, but your eyes never left him as they explored his exposed skin. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t ever had feelings for him; he was incredibly attractive and surprisingly quite your type, but you knew he didn’t see you the same way, so you pushed those feelings to the side and enjoyed the relationship you did have with him.

Shaking your thoughts from your head once again, you answered Jaehyun as he walked back over to you and leaned against the door frame. “I took a vacation day... I thought we could hang out today, unless you have other plans.”

“Nope, I’m all yours.” Your smile widened and your heart fluttered with excitement when he said that.

“Good.” You quickly grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“I have a surprise for you!”

Once you reached the kitchen he looked around at everything in confusion. “Y/n, what’s all this? Did you do this?”

You nodded excitedly, “Happy birthday, Jae!”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning eating and once you were finished, you put the left overs away and watched Jaehyun open his gifts. You’d bought him several clothing items you’d seen him looking at, along with a few others that you thought he’d like. He tried each and every one on, giving you a mini fashion show while you cheered him on from the couch. When he finally came to the final bag, the small bag of confections, he looked at you. “Is this one for me too?” He asked as he sat down beside you, now back in his sweats and his t-shirt. You nodded as he pulled the sweets from the bag and raised an eyebrow.

“I know we’re celebrating your birthday, but it is still Valentine’s Day too... I thought I might as well add on the stack you’ll get later.” You teased, nudging him with your elbow. For a second, you thought you saw his smile falter, but no sooner than it had happened it was gone.

It was now nearly 3:00 pm and Jaehyun was carrying you up the stairs bridal style to his room. Once he reached his room he sat you down on the edge of his bed. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to do something like this. In fact, you spent a lot of your time cuddled up together and flirting; it didn’t matter if you were watching a movie or playing a game or doing nothing at all, you just enjoyed being close to one another. People around you always liked to point it out, too. You looked around his side of the room while you waited for him to get a couple blankets from the closet down the hall. Nothing had really changed since you were here last, except for the beautiful bouquet of flowers and what you assumed was a jewelry box that now sat on his desk.

Curiosity got the best of you. You walked over to the desk and took a better look at the items. Your brows furrowed and your bottom lip jutted out in a slight pout. How did you not know that your best friend was seeing somebody, and, judging by the brand name on top of the box, that their relationship was apparently quite serious. The thought that Jaehyun would keep something like this from you sent a pang of hurt through your chest, but it was nothing compared to the guilt you were starting to feel. You were keeping him here, when he could be spending time with whoever he’d bought those gifts for. Those thoughts began to make you feel selfish and grow more uncomfortable the longer they lingered. When you heard the soft pattern of feet coming down the hall, you rushed back to your previous spot on the bed and did the best you could to pretend nothing was wrong.

“Sorry it took so long, I accidentally knocked the other blankets off the shelf.” He chuckled and set his blankets down.

You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, “It’s okay, but... I actually need to get going.”

“What? Why? I thought you wanted to spend the day together.” He said as he watched you walk towards the door. You bit your lip and started to gather your bag and grabbed your coat, trying to think of some excuse as to why you had to leave so suddenly.

“I um... I forgot I told my roommate I’d pick the cat up from the vet.” You lied, trying your best to sound believable. Just like the sweetie he was, Jaehyun quickly adapted to the change in plans.

“Oh... I can go with you if you’d like! Just let me get changed.” He offered. You quickly shut him down.

“No, that’s okay. You probably have plans later anyways. I’d hate to keep you from them.” You quickly hugged him as you turned to leave. It wasn’t like you to turn Jaehyun down when he offered to do something with you, and you both knew that. He caught your gaze shifting towards his desk as you turned to leave and grabbed your wrist before you could walk out the door.

“Y/n, wait.” He was mentally cursing at himself for not thinking to hide the gifts he’d bought you. He assumed you had caught on to his confession plan. “Look, I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but please don’t leave... let’s just talk about this.”

“I don-“

“Please don’t play dumb. You saw the flowers and the necklace, didn’t you?” You’d been caught.

“Yeah I did...” you turned back towards him, but your gaze dropped to the ground. “I know I shouldn’t have snooped, but you shouldn’t have hid something like this from me.”

“I know... I just...” he paused trying to find right words, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You could’ve just told me you’re seeing someone, Jae. I would’ve understood. I just feel bad for ruining your plans today. I wouldn’t have lingered so long had I known.” His grip on your wrist tightened a little and his head shot up.

“Seeing someone? I’m not seeing anyone!”

“Then who did you... oh...” you trailed off as you realized his true intentions.

“Yeah.”

“Jae-“ he cut you off again.

“It’s okay Y/n, I know you don’t think of me like that. I’ve had feeling for you since we met and I just had to get them off my chest. I felt like I was suffocating. I’m sorry if that seems selfish.” Jaehyun released his grip on you, but you stood still. You knew just how he felt. You surprised him when, out of all the reactions you could’ve possibly shown, you suddenly started laughing.

“Okay, I get that you don’t like me but you don’t have to rub it i-“

This time it was you who cut him off as you pulled him down by his shirt collar and kissed him. It was short and sweet, but somehow it still left you breathless. “We’re idiots.” You chuckled as you pulled away, though your arms stayed wrapped around each other.

“What makes you say that?”

“We’ve liked each other since the very beginning. We act like a couple constantly and we flirt just as much.“ you pointed out as you thought back over the past few years. “We must be really dumb if it really took us this long to realize this.” Jaehyun started to laugh with you once he realized just how right you were.

“So you really do like me then?” He asked as you both calmed and you nodded. He leaned down and pecked your lips again. A teasing smirk replaced his smile when he pulled away. “I don’t like you...”

“Jae, seriously?” You rolled your eyes at his teasing. He nodded and took your coat and your purse, setting them aside before he picked you up and carried you back to his bed.

“I’m serious, Y/n. I don’t like you.” He repeated as he climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you, your legs tangling together. “I love you.” His words took you by surprise, but you still reciprocated and immediately said them back.

The two of you laid there for what felt like forever, just talking about anything and everything like you normally did. The only real difference was the occasional kisses and words of affirmation that you shared with each other. Finally, Jaehyun asked you the question that had been burning on his mind for a while now. “So do you actually need to go pick up your cat today?” He asked with the most innocent look, making you laugh again. You kissed him between your giggles and cupped his face when he raised a brow at you. He seemed to do that a lot.

“Jae, I don’t have a cat.”

“Oh...”

[d3-iseefire]

Little Swan Lost Chapter One

My second most popular fanfic. You can read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743620/chapters/3723188

Bilba Baggins was in the midst of a truly beautiful dream. In it she was principal dancer in a production of "Swan Lake" and was right in the middle of the black swan pas de deux. She’d just finished her variation to thunderous applause and the danseur playing Siegfried, a mysterious man shrouded in shadow, stepped forward to join her for the coda.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies in rhythm with one another and the music. Realizing they’d arrived at her strongest part Bilba took a slow, deep breath and launched into her thirty-two fouettes en tournant.

Her execution was flawless and as she ended and launched into the final part of the dance the audience erupted once more. She threw her arm back, head held high in triumph both for the successful performance and as dictated by the play. Her lungs desperately sucked in oxygen and her legs had the barest tremble to them but she pushed it aside, holding the illusion of effortless grace.

A shriek rippled through the auditorium and Bilba blinked in surprise.

With a sharp click the applause, and the audience, vanished.

A second shriek tore through the air.

Bilba’s eyes snapped open, her body already reacting. Adrenaline surged through her veins and she rolled over, falling out of bed and hitting the ground with a thud. Scrambling to her feet, she snatched the can of mace off her bedside table and bolted for the door. A feeling of cold settled over her as images of her roommate being viciously attacked ran through her mind.

Light streamed through the window in the hallway outside her room allowing her to run full tilt. As she reached the entrance to the living room she tried to swing around the corner, hoping to have the element of surprise, only to have her socks slip on the wooden floor and send her sprawling instead. She hit the ground hard, pain barking up her elbow.

Immediately she rolled, coming up into a crouch on one knee, her arm up and ready to spray whatever attacker had dared threaten her friend Rosie.

Rosie who was currently seated on the couch a few feet away, arms wrapped around a pillow, legs drawn up and her surprised gaze fixed on Bilba.

“What in the world are you doing?”

“You screamed,” Bilba said, getting painfully to her feet. “I thought you were dying!”

Rosie smirked. “And you came rushing to my rescue? How sweet.” Her eyes shifted back to the television and she suddenly shrieked again, her grip tightening on the pillow.

Bilba followed her gaze and saw the news running a story. A series of clips aired in a loop behind the reporter as she spoke, not that Bilba could hear it with the sound so low. She squinted as the clips began to replay, recognizing the Shire International Airport. A large, expensive looking jet sat on the tarmac, the door open and a long, velvet carpet stretching down a staircase and across the pavement to where a limousine waited.

“Look, Look, Look!!” Rosie squealed, her hand frantically waving at the screen, “they’re about to show him again!”

A figure appeared at the top of the ramp and slowly started down. From the distance the camera was at Bilba couldn’t make out much other than it was a man and he was dressed in some kind of uniform. What looked like an impressive array of medals and other things adorned the front catching the light and reflecting.

Bilba’s eyes dropped to the footer at the bottom of the screen. It read, in enormous letters, “Prince Thorin arrives for upcoming wedding to still unknown Princess of Shire.”

Bilba rolled her eyes and tossed the mace on a side table in disgust. “Oh, for the love of—next time I may just not come, did you ever think of that?”

Rosie ignored her, still fixated on the story.

Sometimes, Bilba had to admit, she worried a bit about Rosie’s obsession with royalty.

Speaking of which…as if on cue Rosie’s attention snapped back to her, eyes wide and pleading. “Bilba, do you think--”

“No,” Bilba stated.

“But you’re--”

“Disowned, remember? I barely know them.”

“But the Thain is your grandfather!”

“In name only.”

“And your guardian.”

“Also in name only,” Bilba muttered. Anyone with a brain knew her grandfather only took over custody of her after her parents died as a political move. The great, benevolent Thain graciously forgiving his errant daughter in death and taking on her orphaned daughter as a gesture of goodwill, even allowing her to live in the palace and providing her with the very best life had to offer.

At least until public attention died down. After that he couldn't get her shipped off to a boarding school on the other side of the country fast enough. She was still forced to visit in the summer, to keep up appearances, but over the last few years she'd been able to beg off under the pretext of traveling with the ballet company she’d joined.

Rosie had gone back to staring at her latest obsession again, idly chewing on a nail as she did. Bilba shook her head in bewilderment. Rosie was beautiful, on the shorter side, curvy with black hair that hung to her shoulders and beautiful hazel eyes. She could have any boy she wanted but chose, instead, to obsess about princes she’d never have a chance to meet.

Bilba returned to her room, grumbling about the slowly developing bruise on her elbow. Her alarm sounded just as she walked in and she slapped it off in agitation. Ten more minutes she could have slept in wasted thanks to her lovestruck roommate.

She showered quickly and threw on her jeans, shoes and a loose fitting, dark blue blouse. She ran a brush quickly through her hair before twisting it into a chignon and clipping it in place.

She headed out again, stopping in the kitchen to grab breakfast.

Rosie popped in, doing her best to give her puppy dog eyes.

“You seem to be of the mistaken belief I’m a male and those work on me.” Bilba poured herself a bowl of cereal and splashed in milk before leaning against the counter to eat.

“Come on,” Rosie pleaded, “you can at least tell me who he’s marrying! They’ve been keeping it all hushed up for over six months like it’s some kind of state secret or something!”

More like her grandfather was a paranoid bastard and didn’t want to reveal which of Bilba’s cousins was the future bride for fear of her being targeted by…whoever her grandfather was convinced was threatening him at the moment. Bilba firmly believed he had a calendar with a threat of the month written out for each page.

“Whoever it is I don’t envy them." That was saying a lot for her,considering the relationship she had with her royal relatives was…less than stellar.

“I guess,” Rosie mused. She leaned forward on the counter, dropping her chin on the cold granite. “Who wants to marry a guy who had to break his engagement to be with you?”

Bilba agreed silently. She still had no idea how her grandfather had managed that. The country of Erebor was much larger than Shire and far richer. They’d never had much contact with one another until six months earlier when, out of the blue, it had been announced the Crown Prince of Erebor would be marrying a Princess of Shire. The news had stunned the world as just two months before THAT Prince Thorin had officially announced his engagement to a childhood sweetheart.

A knock sounded on the door and Bilba put the news out of her mind as warmth rushed through her.

“Oh, lord,” Rosie grumbled, burying her face in her hands, “save me from the sappiness of lovebirds.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Bilba retorted, setting her bowl in the sink, “you’ll find your own someday, once you stop moping over Princes.”

“In that case I’ll never find anyone,” Rosie’s voice was muffled by her hands, “since I never plan to stop.”

Bilba stepped out of the kitchen and darted to the door, pulling it open with a huge grin on her face.

A second later she was grabbed around the waist, lifted and spun around. Bilba laughed and threw her arms around Bofur’s neck, kissing him soundly before he set her back on her feet.

“So,” he said with a grin, “how’s my girl? Ready for your big night?”

“I think so,” Bilba answered even as her stomach clenched with nerves. “Hopefully I don’t screw it all up.”

“You’ll do fine,” he reassured. Reaching up he pulled off the floppy, insanely ugly hat he always insisted on wearing everywhere he went, and plopped it on her head. “There, you can wear that for luck.”

Bilba grimaced and tugged it off. “I think I’d be more in line for the bubonic plague than luck if I wore that.”

Bofur scoffed. “Critic. That hat is a classic.”

“That hat is dead,” Bilba retorted, plopping it back on his head. "And should have been given a proper burial ages ago.”

Before he could respond she went back to her room to grab her bookbag. When she returned Rosie was sitting cross legged on the kitchen counter, watching the news for more updates on anything royal. Bofur was still in the doorway and she joined him, turning to wave at Rosie. The other girl waved back absently and Bofur pulled the door closed.

As they headed toward the building’s exit he took her bag and slung it over his shoulder where his already rested. He slid an arm around her waist and she snuggled into his side. “Think we’ll need to stage another intervention?”

Bilba laughed. “She’s eating so it probably won’t be as bad. We’ll see how long this coverage lasts.”

Bofur frowned. “Isn’t the wedding tonight?”

Bilba nodded. “Tragically my invitation seems to have been lost in the mail.

They reached the door and headed out, sunlight hitting Bilba in the eyes and forcing her to blink a moment or two before they adjusted.

Bofur shifted suddenly, grabbing her arms lightly and swinging around until he was in front of her. “Well,” he said agreeably, “I guess it’s a good thing you weren’t invited. You have big plans tonight as it is.”

Bilba grinned back at him, butterflies skittering about in her stomach. By a stroke of luck, at least for her, one of the girls playing a swan in her company’s production of "Swan Lake” had fallen ill and Bilba, as her understudy, had been asked to step in.

She was equal parts nerves and anticipation. She’d danced since she was three but this would be her first time on stage as part of an actual ballet company.

Bofur gave her an amused look. “You grin any harder and your face might just crack.”

Bilba laughed and kissed him before tugging out of his grip and racing toward his car. She heard him behind her and managed to get inside before he arrived, locking the door behind her. He gave her a dry look and held up the keys, shaking them at her.

Bilba grinned and leaned against the seat with a sigh as he strode around the other side to get in.

Her mind went briefly back to her grandfather and the wedding set to take place that night and she felt another pang of sympathy for whichever of her cousins had been caught in the Thain’s latest plot.

She also felt a sense of almost gratitude toward the older man. While his treatment of her had clearly been intended to harm it had, in fact, done more good for her than he would ever know. If he hadn’t done as he had, she’d have never joined her ballet company or met Bofur.

She’d never have been able to go to such a fantastic college as Bag End University, even if it was smaller and less renowned, and wouldn’t have met so many amazing people. Even Rosie, though she often wondered if the girl was her friend only because Bilba happened to be a granddaughter of the Thain, no matter how unwanted.

In any event, her life had turned out to be truly amazing.

The car roared to life and Bofur shot her a triumphant grin as he always did when the hunk of junk deigned to start.

Bilba just shook her head.

***

The day rushed by in a blur. Most of Bilba’s classes were shortened in a sort of unofficial holiday in celebration of the upcoming nuptials. The few professors who did insist on full classes mostly spent them talking about Erebor or Prince Thorin and the benefits Shire would gain from the new alliance.

Bilba truly didn’t care and spent most of her day daydreaming, staring out various windows and working through her routine in her mind. The performance that evening would be her moment to shine, to prove to everyone she deserved more roles and, hopefully, one day principal roles. She remembered her dream and shivered at the thought of one day holding the status of principal dancer in a production.

After class she ran out to catch the bus which seemed to move at an insanely slow pace until, finally, it arrived at the theater and she leapt down the stairs and ran inside. Thanks to the stupid wedding she was already later than she should be.

The entrance of the theater was enormous, carpeted in a lush, red and gold pattern thread. The walls were paneled mahogany and the ceiling overhead was gilded in gold leaf and inset lights that gave a soft glow to the room. Just ahead of her were the massive doors that, in only a few hours, would open to permit hundreds of guests eager to see the performance.

At the moment Bofur was waiting in front of them, dressed in the uniform identifying him as a stagehand. He’d been there most of the day already, having skipped his classes to help set up for the show. He opened the door and gave her an exaggerated bow. Bilba returned it and skipped past him, her excitement and nerves warring for dominance.

Inside the carpeting continued, plush enough she could feel it through her shoes. Here, row upon row of polished wood seats filled the room and the balcony overhead, each outfitted with a comfortable red headrest and seat cushion. The room was curved, angled around the stage at the front. The stage itself was huge and very deep, allowing for multiple sets to be set up in layers, a system of pulleys easily lifting one to reveal another behind it. Currently it was buzzing with activity as the crew set it up for the show. Bilba paused for a brief second to take it in, imagining herself on that stage, preforming before a packed house.

She breathed out, trying to calm herself, and then headed on. Steps on one side headed down into the orchestra pit and she took them swiftly, bypassing players rehearsing sheet music, and headed through a door that led to the back of the house.

Here it was pandemonium, dancers and stage crew rushing back and forth as they fought to get ready in time.

Bilba headed to the main dressing room for the dancers. When she entered the others were already there, most of them outfitted in their pure white costumes and headdresses. Several paused when she walked in, giving her confused looks and Bilba felt her face heat. Some good impression she was making, her mind scolded, showing up late opening night.

She scurried to an open mirror, planning to get dressed as quickly as possible. She headed to the racks to grab her costume and paused, her hand lifting to touch empty space.

What?

She twisted slightly to face the other girls, was this some kind of weird initiation joke?

“Do you know where my costume is?” she asked the room at large.

Silence fell, the girls all staring at her and Bilba felt a clenching begin in her gut.

Finally, a girl she recognized as another of the understudies, Christy or something, stepped forward. She was taller than Bilba, and most of the other girls, and didn’t often get parts as she stuck out so clearly in group dances. Bilba had no idea why she was there at the moment. Had someone else fallen ill?

“Bilba,” the girl started, wringing her hands before her. “They told us you weren’t coming.”

Bilba blinked. It occurred to her suddenly that the girl’s costume was too tight, as though it had been made for someone smaller.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “what?”

“Marty called me,” Christy continued. “He said you couldn’t preform and I had to come take your place.”

“That…” Bilba stammered, “That’s not true. It’s a mistake.” Her stomach was in full cramp mode by then and her hands were clenched in fists at her side. The other girls were looking away from her and she felt her eyes burn in embarrassment. She swallowed hard, past the lump in her throat. “It’s a mistake,” she repeated, her voice a mere whisper. She held her head high and forced herself to stay calm. “I’ll handle it right now.”

She strode forward, keeping her eyes straight ahead. No one made a sound as she exited, but the second she was back in the hall a babble of voices broke out behind her.

Bilba ignored them and continued to move down toward the director’s office. The underground tunnel was large and sparse, made of concrete and currently crowded with crew, racks of costumes, set pieces and equipment. Bilba focused on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She would not cry in front of them, she told herself, she would not.

Bofur walked out from around a corner.

“Bilba.” His voice was barely a hushed whisper. “You’re white as a sheet. What happened?”

She shook her head at him, not trusting herself to speak without breaking down and continued past. She reached Marty’s door and rapped on it, feeling the sharp sting of pain in her knuckles.

“Come in.”

Bilba obeyed and promptly froze at the sight that greeted her.

Marty was seated behind his desk, a plump, short, middle aged man with thinning hair and oversized glasses.

He wasn’t what gave her pause. What did were the two enormous men on either side of him, both in suits and sunglasses, hair slicked back, earpieces sticking out from their ears.

A sense of dread settled over her. “Marty? What’s going on? Why is Christy wearing my costume?’

One of the suits answered. “Your presence is requested at the palace, Miss Baggins. Immediately.”

Ice settled in her veins. Bilba stared at him without comprehension. “I can’t go,” she said with a thick swallow past the rock now lodged in her throat. “It’s a two hour flight by jet to get there. I have a show to preform in.”

Marty sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You won’t be preforming tonight.”

“But--” Bilba’s voice cracked and she took a deep breath, bringing it back under control. “But I PRACTICED.”

“I know you have,” Marty assured her. “Believe me, Bilba, I know.” He stood up and rounded the desk, coming over to grab her hands. They were sweaty and clammy and Bilba resisted the urge to jerk hers away from him. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “It’s the THAIN, Bilba. I can’t very well refuse him now can I?”

Bilba just stared at him.

She looked toward one of the suits. “Can’t I just go tomorrow?” she asked, her voice pleading. “Or even after the show? It’s only a couple of hours.”

“I’m sorry,” the man stated, his voice flat. “Your grandfather wants you immediately.”

“Why? What does he want?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” The man stepped forward. “You will come with us now. The jet is waiting.”

Bilba’s jaw trembled and, despite her best efforts, tears started to slip of their own accord down her face. “But I practiced.” she whispered.

“I'm so sorry,” Marty replied. He patted her hand awkwardly. “There will be other productions, Bilba. I promise.”

She didn’t respond. He released her hands and stepped back. The two suits stepped up on either side of her and then she was being escorted down the corridor. The people she passed stopped and stared and whispers followed her. Shame and embarrassment burned hot within her and the tears flowed ever more freely. She dug her nails into her palms in an attempt to stop herself from crying but to no avail.

She caught another glimpse of Bofur but shook her head at him as he stepped forward. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him, she’d break down entirely and then her humiliation would truly be complete.

She was guided out of the corridor, back through the hall and, thankfully, through a back door instead of out front where show goers were no doubt beginning to gather.

A limo was waiting there and she was bundled inside and whisked off to the airport. The entire ride Bilba sat in stunned disbelief, half expecting and half praying she’d wake up and find the entire thing had been a terrible dream.

It was only once she’d been led onto her grandfather’s private jet that reality set in and Bilba finally allowed herself to break down. As the plane rolled down the runway and lifted smoothly into the air, Bilba huddled in her seat, pressed her face into her hand and sobbed.

The suits, and whoever else was on the plane, had the decency to leave her alone as despair rolled over her. She imagined they would probably not bother her until she’d managed to recover.

They didn’t speak to her the rest of the flight.

***

The palace hadn’t changed from the last time she’d seen it, nearly five years ago. Bilba watched it come into view, her eyes dry and puffy from crying, her body exhausted.

Her grandfather had built the new palace, setting it high upon a hill so it would be visible for miles. He’d wanted it as ostentatious as possible and had achieved his wish. It boasted hundreds of rooms, not that many were ever used, multiple swimming pools, an indoor theater capable of holding well over a hundred people and much, much more.

The car wound up the long driveway, past giant bushes cut in the shape of the Thain and his beloved, and much spoiled, children and other relations.

All but her mother that is. Getting disowned for marrying the wrong person meant you didn’t warrant a bush.

The car stopped at the front gates and she listened with halfhearted interest as they were buzzed in. By now she imagined the production was in full swing back home, Christy was probably even then leaping and twirling about the stage wearing Bilba’s costume and dancing her part.

The car continued on, rolling slowly up the curving driveway and coming to a stop at the entrance to the palace. Bilba was out before they were fully stopped, her depression already morphing into anger.

She marched inside and found her grandfather’s steward, a greasy looking weasel of a man named Grima Wormtongue, waiting for her.

“Where is he?” she ordered before he could speak.

Grima looked startled. “In his office,” he started, “but--”

He got no further as she stormed past him. The front foyer of the castle was meant to impress, marble floors, gilt lined walls, expensive art, tapestries and statues everywhere. Bilba saw none of it as she stomped her way to her grandfather’s office.

Once there she shoved the doors open and entered, finding the man who’d ruined six months of dedicated practice seated behind an ornate, walnut desk.

“Why?” she ordered. “What was so bloody important you forced me to miss my production?”

The Thain of Shire, Gerontius Took, gave her a look one might give to a particularly bothersome insect. He was old, nearing eighty, but had lost none of his vigor and his mind was as sharp, and devious, as ever.

“You look terrible,” he stated. “It’s a good thing I decided to keep you away until the last second. He’d probably have run in fright at the first sight of you otherwise.” He stood to his full height of just under six feet and nodded behind her. Bilba had no time to look as the door slammed shut, sealing her in the office with the old goat.

Gerontius moved casually out from behind his desk. If possible he’d grown even larger since she’d seen him last. He was dressed, as always, in the richest and most ostentatious robes and garments he could find. Rings sparkled on several fingers and he wore a crown so enormous and bedecked with jewels Bilba often wondered how he didn’t suffer a broken neck just from the strain of supporting it.

“How well do you remember your history, Bilba?” His voice was oily as ever, a tone to it that somehow always made her skin crawl.

“I don’t see what relevance that has to anything,” Bilba shot but stopped herself from saying more as he held up a hand.

“I wouldn’t expect you to remember much,” he mused. "You do take after your father after all, simple minded as he was.”

Bilba bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood. Rising to his bait would do nothing but give him the pleasure of knowing he’d gotten to her.

Gerontius settled on the corner of his desk. No doubt he probably felt he presented a commanding presence but, to Bilba, he just looked like a lazy, fat peacock.

“Nearly twenty years ago,” Gerontius said calmly, “the Kingdom of Erebor was conquered by the Kingdom of Mordor. The royal family was forced to flee and a dictator, going by the name of Smaug, was placed on the throne in their stead.”

Bilba rolled her eyes. “I already know all that,” she snapped. “What does it have to do with me?”

“I’m getting to that,” her grandfather replied. He looked amused and Bilba mentally kicked herself for letting her emotions rule her. “A great portion of the population of Erebor fled under Smaug’s rule and, with the royal family in exile, there was little they could do to help them. It was at this time that Thror, the King in exile at that time, came to me desperate for help.” The man’s face twisted for a moment, as though remembering and Bilba suppressed a shiver at the glee in his eyes. “He had nothing to offer me at the time, of course, so he promised a repayment at a future date, once Erebor had been reclaimed.”

An event that had happened nearly ten years earlier, Bilba thought. Thror hadn’t lived to see it happen but his son, Thrain, had and now ruled in his father’s stead.

Realization dawned on her suddenly and she looked at her grandfather in horror. “Is that how you forced the alliance and the marriage? You called in the debt?” She had wondered, as had many analysts, why Erebor would ever agree to such a deal. The alliance, as she understood it was for them to send money and Shire to send food. The problem was that Erebor was so much larger than Shire that there was no way for them to ever send enough food to make much difference or to make an alliance worthwhile. Particularly one that, seemingly arbitrarily, forced the Crown Prince to break off an engagement and marry a woman he’d never met.

Her grandfather smiled, a truly wicked look, and Bilba felt her heart sink at the notion she was related to one so incredibly cruel. “Why?” she asked again, though this time for a different reason. “They would have given you a fortune in payment, why ask this?”

She had no doubt it was somehow money related. It was common knowledge Shire was in dire straits financially. Gerontius Took indulged himself and his family with every indulgence, it was only a matter of time before the money started to run out.

“Oh, they did,” he stated, “but I rejected it. It was not nearly enough given the amount of help we provided when Erebor was at its most dire need.”

Somehow she doubted that. “So you demanded an alliance,” she stated flatly, “and a political marriage to seal it. Why?”

Her grandfather nearly preened with pride. “The reason for the alliance should be obvious. I want money, they have it." He settled back slightly on the desk, "as for the reason for the marriage, that I'll keep to myself for the time being. As far as you need to know it is merely symbol of the alliance, a guarantee of the good will of both our kingdoms.”

Except Erebor was giving up her Crown Prince while Shire was only giving up a random Princess or, more likely, close blood relative to the throne, Bilba thought, hardly a fair trade.

“Not to mention guaranteed hatred of whatever poor girl is forced into such a situation,” Bilba responded. “Who is it?”

He looked at her, smile still firmly in place on his face.

It was a testament to how tired she was that the truth didn’t hit her immediately.

Instead it was a slow trickle. The mystery over who the woman was, grabbing her from her production on the night of the wedding, giving her no time to prepare or consider running, her grandfather’s words when she’d walked in. The very fact he’d be sending whoever he’d chosen into a hostile situation and, therefore, would most likely pick someone he disliked.

Bilba staggered and her back hit the door. “No,” she whispered. “Grandfather, no.”

“Oh, it’s Grandfather, now is it?” Gerontius stated. “You will be married in approximately a half hour’s time. I expect you to look better than you do now.”

Bilba shook her head, her entire body trembling. She continued to sag, gravity seeming to increase its hold on her. “No,” she repeated, “you can’t force me. I’ll say no.”

“Will you? You’d have a hard time refusing your guardian.”

“Only for six more months,” she said in desperation, “I’m almost twenty-one.”

“At which time I shall still be the Thain,” her grandfather said, “and, thus, still in control.”

"I don't care," Bilba insisted. "You can ruin my life. I'll leave, go to another country." Bofur would go with her, she knew he would. It would be difficult but preferable to being used as a pawn in whatever plot her grandfather was concocting.

Idly he reached over his desk and picked up a folder. “You know, just because you’re the bastard of that scum your mother married doesn’t mean I don’t keep an eye on you. Consider it watching the half that’s my blood.” He flipped the folder open and started to page through it. “You have amassed yourself quite a number of friends I see.” He held up a picture and Bilba found herself staring at a shot of Rosie, striding across the courtyard on campus, probably on her way to class. Another picture and there was Petunia, her lab partner in Chemistry, a shy, quiet girl who wanted to be a doctor. He showed another picture and another friend and another and another after that.

Then he held up a new photo and Bilba felt her breath stop in her lungs.

Bofur.

Bofur, his arms wrapped around her, a giant smile on his face as he said…something. She couldn’t even place what day that shot would have been taken.

“Promising career this one had.” Her grandfather turned the picture toward himself, studying it. “Oh, I’m sorry, has. It would be such a shame if anything was to happen to derail it, wouldn’t it. I doubt he'd even be able to find work in another country if it was found out he'd derailed the alliance, angering both Shire and Erebor.”

“You wouldn’t,” Bilba whispered, but he would, oh, she knew he would. He’d made her mother’s life a living hell, made it nearly impossible for her or Bilba’s father to find work. They’d been left in poverty until the day they died, driving a car with bald tires on ice. They’d spun out and right into a lake that wasn’t nearly frozen enough to support the weight of a car.

"Please," she begged. "Please don't do this."

Gerontius set the photo down. "You are a tool," he said, his voice cold. "Did you genuinely believe you would never be used?"

Bilba heard a loud roaring in her ears.

She sat hard on the ground. Her body no longer responded to her commands. She swayed, dizziness overcoming her and, vaguely, felt her body slump to one side.

Bofur, she thought, and her heart clenched at the realization she’d most likely never see him again. That, in all likelihood, her grandfather would announce her marriage in a half’s hour time and Bofur would think she’d betrayed him, that this had been her plan all along.

Rosie as well. She could imagine the hurt her friend would feel thinking Bilba had planned to marry a Prince all along and had deliberately cut her out.

A nearly hysterical laugh bubbled out of her throat.

And, then, Bilba proceeded to faint dead away.

***

If life held any fairness in it Bilba would have remained unconscious and Prince Thorin would have been forced to return to Erebor without her. Thorin could elope with his ex-fiancee, the alliance could be re-negotiated and Bilba could go back to her own life.

She already knew life wasn’t the least bit fair. Her parents death had taught her that much.

She ended up being out less than ten minutes.

When she woke up her grandfather was no longer in the room. Instead a group of people were clustered around her. They immediately dragged her up and proceeded to manhandle her. Before she could try to argue she found herself stripped naked and hustled through a door into her grandfather’s private bathroom. There she was ordered to bathe and, when she didn’t do a good enough job, they took over and scrubbed her until she was sure her skin would actually come off.

Once that was done she was hauled back out, shoved into undergarments and a corset and pushed into a chair. The primping started after that, makeup and hair and fake eyelashes and nails. Through it all Bilba sat in a numb sort of trance, watching the proceedings as though they were happening to someone else.

She was stood up unexpectedly and handed a pair of sheer nylons to put on. She obeyed dumbly and then dutifully stepped into spiked, gold high heels.

The dress was a sight to behold and, under any other circumstance, Bilba would have been in awe. Now, however, she stood like a mannequin as they strapped her into it. It was long sleeved, going over the backs of her hands and ending in small loops around each middle finger. The bodice was tight against her body and the skirt was comprised of so much fabric it felt like she was wearing bricks. The overlay for it was gold lace, culminating in a train over ten feet long. A veil completed the look, draping over her head and going to her waist. It was so heavy that, when shown a mirror, she couldn’t see her face and, for that, she was grateful. Given the beauty of the dress she had no doubt her grandfather planned to record and broadcast the entire thing. No doubt he would show himself as the loving grandfather doing right by the granddaughter of an unapproved marriage, ensuring she made a good match and was taken care of.

She was guided from the office. Outside one of her cousins, Beatrice, was leaning against the wall. She was closest in age to Bilba, with blond hair and green eyes. She was gorgeous with a fit, athletic body she was now showing off in a sparkling gold sheath dress.

She pushed off the wall and came forward to grab Bilba’s arms. “Lucky you,” she almost purred. “If he weren’t so pissed about having to break up with that little mouse of his I’d have married him myself. He’s hot.”

Bilba gave her a blank look. Beatrice pulled her down the hall and Bilba went with her, wordlessly allowing the other woman to take her to the doors of the grand ballroom.

“Grandfather wanted a big wedding,” Beatrice said, “but Thorin refused. So we’re faking it instead. We’ll let the media use clips, you know? Make it seem like it was this big long thing.”

Bilba didn’t care, wasn’t listening, was barely aware of her surroundings.

Footsteps sounded and then Gerontius was there, taking her arm in his.

He was going to walk her down the aisle, Bilba realized. The thought made her physically ill but she couldn’t do anything without risking the futures of her friends. Of Bofur.

Bofur.

As music began to play and the doors were thrown open she tried to imagine it was him waiting at the end of the long aisle as they began to walk down.

It would have been him, eventually, of that she was sure.

As they entered the room Bilba could see what Beatrice had meant. A few rows of seats had been set up at the front of the room, filled with people. No doubt that would be one of the clips shown over and over with no one ever questioning why no wide shots were ever shown.

At the head of the aisle a large altar had been set up, upon which she would shortly be sacrificed. It was draped in greens and blue, the colors of Shire, and overlaid with blue and silver, the colors of Erebor. A man she didn’t recognize stood waiting to officiate and, to her surprise, many of her female cousins, dressed in the same dress as Beatrice, stood lined up to one side. As she watched Beatrice joined them near the front, taking the place of Maid of Honor. The other side held a number of men that Bilba vaguely thought she recognized from the security force, including the two who’d dragged her away from her life. She wondered if the clips of them would be photoshopped to make them appear even more different.

They reached the front of the aisle and Bilba was finally forced to look at the man waiting there.

Thorin Durin was tall, much taller than he had appeared descending from the plane. Bilba was sure her heels added several inches to her normal height of 5’3” but he still towered over her, probably easily topping six feet. His shoulders were broad, his face chiseled and sporting a short cropped beard. His hair, dark and with a slight wave, was worn long and currently tied back in a low ponytail. Two braids, she vaguely remembered something culturally significant about them, draped over his shoulders, silver beads capping them. He wore the uniform he’d had on when she’d see him departing the plane, had it just been that morning? The uniform of royalty, marking every inch of him as the Crown Prince he was.

She risked a look at his eyes, and instantly quailed, wishing she hadn’t. They were a blue that couldn’t possibly be found in nature, and stared at her with a blank coldness that she thought might just match what she currently felt inside herself at the moment.

The minister began. The service was short, not at all what she’d imagined or dreamed of when she was younger.

When Thorin spoke, his deep, slightly accented voice offering a curt, “I do” she started in surprise.

A moment later the question was asked of her. Feeling as though bars were closing around her, Bilba focused on Thorin’s shoes, polished to a shine so intense she could see her veiled reflection in them, and offered a quiet “I do.”

The bars clanged shut, the sound so loud in her mind it was a wonder they weren’t audibly heard.

Thorin’s hand took hers and a ring was slid onto the ring finger of her left hand. She didn’t look at it. It felt like a manacle, dragging at her hand.

The minister spoke a few more words and Thorin stepped up to a small table she hadn't noticed before. He bent, wrote something, then straightened, spun on one heel and marched out, leaving her at the altar. Bilba felt a brief moment of hope. Had he changed his mind? Decided he couldn't go through with it?

Then the minister said something to her, gesturing toward the table and she stepped forward to see a marriage license laying there. Thorin's signature was scrawled on it, the lines harsh and jagged.

Someone handed her a pen. For several seconds Bilba stared at it until her grandfather cleared his throat loudly next to her. Choking back a sob, Bilba bent and signed her name.

And, just like that, her life as she knew it was over.  

Her cousins surrounded her, talking excitedly and lifting her hand to stare at her ring.

All Bilba could do was stare at her signature.

It felt like she'd signed her own death warrant.