#come hell or high water this guy has got to be friendly to me though i mean come the fuck on

[elytrafemme]

i need this guy who is viewed by literally everyone who has ever met him including myself as one of the kindest most genuine people ever to stop being fucking scared of me and ANSWER MY TEXTS!!!

[cursedchildofchaos]

💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬💬

19??? Anon, you little shit! Okay, fine lol. Not giving context either besides that some of these are from fanfics and some original stuff

1. 

COACH

Schmidt just went full Winston and got

pet-ernal.

2. 

ALISON 

Nothing you say is going to change my mind, Dr. Felix. 

CHASE 

(through gritted teeth) 

Oh, it's last names now? Fine, but I'm not helping, Dr. Roberts. Use the damn machine yourself!

3. 

Talk or I'll bite you! I'll bite your whole family! I'll even bite your grandma!

4. 

And that's why you shouldn't trust strangers that offer you candy, kids. Never know when one might turn out to be a vengeful witch.

5. 

It's called a chemical reaction, you fudging sucker!

6. 

BEA

So, what brings you to Hell?

DAVE

Oh, my ex told me she would see me here.

7. 

If our dumbass friend is doing something dumbass, we are doing that dumbass thing, too, because we are dumbasses.

8.

A BANK OFFICIAL, standing in front of Dedire, pulls his collar as he eyes the porcelain dolls about the room. They seem like each one is staring into his soul.

9.

There’s a cat waiting to pounce when we stop dancing. You see, I’m allergic to cats, or cads, whatever you call ’em.

10.

Snape thought briefly that he might be dead and this was his own personal Hell even though he sort of enjoyed seeing Petunia cry. The situation was all too laughable and miserable at the same time...Maybe the Catholics were right about Purgatory being real?

11.

Haru: Tohru, tell your bf to accept this secret passionate love for Yuki and join the new Yuki Fan Club.

Kyo: I said replace me with her, dammit! Not add her and not get rid of me!

Tohru: Kyo, please, honey, just accept your secret passionate love for Yuki. Also, thanks for adding me guys! Kyo has been complaining about this group chat for over an hour, and I wanted in so bad, but didn’t want to just invite myself.

12.

Virgil ripped his arm out of Remus' grasp.

"Scaring people is my thing, Snidely Whiplash," Virgil retorted.

13.

MC: Loser

Dan: Yeah, what about it?

MC: Oh, um, I didn’t mean it

Dan: Ah, well, I did

MC: Stop, you’re making me feel bad for you

Dan: Good

14.

Wait...I forgot I'm the author of this fanfic. I can just go inside his head. Let's do that (not literally, though, I get a little woozy when it comes to organs).

15.

Today really was a Happy Birthday, wasn't it? Molly thought to herself while jamming to music in her car. I can't wait to get home and tell Toby all about it.

16.

"Another time, I forced everyone to listen to Kidz Bop instead of original songs, claiming they were more Good Place friendly as you do. Another time I said the only people who make it to Heaven are the ones that love the movie Citizen Kane and refuse to watch anything else, so we kept watching it repeatedly as you do. Another time, I forced you to retake French, which I know you hated in high school, cuz I had Janet put a French filter on Chidi's voice...as you do," he rambled off.

"You know adding 'as you do' doesn't make it better...especially as NO ONE DOES THOSE THINGS," Eleanor said, now standing, and looking at Michael accusingly.

17.

His eyes began to water. He slid off the chair next to her. He pulled her into an embrace. She stiffened as he buried his face in her hair that hung near her neck and over her shoulder. His tears were hot as they soaked her sleeve and hair.

18.

Jane attempts to put her hands on her hips, but there isn't room. Instead, she sticks them in her armpits.

19. 

"But I-I," Meg stuttered. "NO BUTS! I want you to think about how disrespectful you've been while were gone," Juliet retorted. Olka belly laughed and whispered, "Butts!" Astrid kicked her sister in the shin.

[actualsaii]

the bet

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15k

Genre: smut, comedy, university AU

Summary:  You lost a bet and now it’s time to face the consequences. Aka when you lose and now you have to get a tattoo.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140211

I'm reposting this one in case it's more comfortable for the readers to use tumblr instead of AO3 :) 

“I can’t believe they made me do it,” you murmured under your nose as you passed the street, knowing that your friends still sat in the car parked in the lot across the street with eyes pinned on your nervous figure. The closer you got to the two-story building, the stronger the crippling anxiety inside of you grew, causing your inners to shake under the heavy consequences of your Thursday night’s escapade that culminated into your worst nightmare.

Yes, everything started two nights ago in a shabby university bar that you grew so fond of during the past two years of your studies. It was always packed whether it was a school night or not, full of freshmen and also seniors, from time to time even postgraduate students that seemed to be only a myth to you as you’ve almost never met one outside the classes. However, neither of that mattered that night as you successfully finished your last exam and decided to hit the streets with your two best friends that carefully prepared the night to its tiniest details. Conspiracy was the first word that popped in your mind as the night continued to unfold her secrets, although it was quickly erased with the fifth shot of tequila after which you simply found yourself walking straight to the bar with one and only thing your friends managed to set your mind on.

The hot bartender, also a member of mythical postgraduate group, was your main target even though he was currently busy with lining the glasses of RedBull next to each other while smaller shot cups full of golden liquid, you somewhere in the back of your mind recalled was probably Jägermeister, balanced on the tips of the bigger glasses under. Each of his move was precise, yet you knew this wasn’t the first Jäger-train he had built. The man worked at this bar ever since you could remember - and you also recalled the moment he stepped into your first class of Forensic psychology, looking completely different than you saw him the previous night (which was your first time visiting the bar when you were a freshman) in the club. Just then one of your friends told you he was a postgraduate student who worked at the bar and also taught some classes because of his final research paper. And now he was here again, his longish black hair carefully slicked back, exposing the undercut that made him look like a bad boy. His eyes momentarily flickered up from his work and once they laid on you, smirk flashed through his features and he straightened his posture, done with what he was doing.

“Look who we have here on a school night. Isn’t it a little bit too late for you to be out, ___?” he tilted his head to the side, never allowing the smile to disappear from his handsome features. He was famous for many things, but the nickname he used really preceded his name - Worldwide Handsome.

“Kim Seokjin, nice and friendly as always. Not that it should concern you, but I’m successfully done with all of my exams; so tonight, I’m celebrating. And I’m also on mission,” you leaned closer to him, almost knocking the train made of multiple glasses of alcohol, however you couldn’t care less. There was only one thing on your mind - and you know your friends were watching you somewhere from the booth in the back of the bar. At least they tried because your mind wasn’t the only one clouded by alcohol and a stupid bet you nodded to extremely fast and without giving it a thought or two first.

“So, mission it is tonight. Anyway, congratulations to wrapping up the term. Now, is there something I can do for you? Because, as you can see, it’s Thursday night, and the place is already bursting. Also, my masterpiece is ready for the show,” he said, reaching for the empty shot cup, ready to put the train on move. Your eyes flickered from his to the said masterpiece and you chuckled. Of course, there was something he could do for you but you didn’t want to burst it out loud just like that, not when the place was crowded and you felt countless eyes pinned on you because you occupied the spot by the bar for longer than acceptable.

But then again, you were on the mission and that was more important than some impatient freshmen that expected to put their hands on one of the glasses of Jägerbomb Seokjin has just put on the move. He gently nudged the first shot sitting on the rim of the glass and watched with his eyes full of excitement how the following shot cups fell down like a domino. People around you cheered loudly and suddenly they started grabbing glasses one after another until there was just one left. In a moment you decided to snatch it for yourself, your fingers met with another long and slender ones, covered in black ink and shiny silver rings. Looking up, you realized the crowd of people was gone, scattered all over the place and dance floor while only a few people remained lingering around the bar area. And the man, who was about to steal the drink you set your eyes on, was now staring at you with a smirk that mirrored in his deep and dark eyes. Long strands of his wavy blonde hair fell into his face but he quickly pushed them back, yet he took an advantage of the moment of surprise and snatched the drink before you had enough time to say something.

“Too late, love,” he shrugged and quickly disappeared in the crowd of people, only his blonde hair shining like a beacon, eventually disappearing as well. You turned to Seokjin with lips formed in a shape of a small ‘o’, still processing what has just happened. The bartender smirked and started lining another train of glasses on the surface of the bar, this time with a different type of drink on his mind.

“What was that? Who was that guy?” you asked, momentarily confused but you quickly shook it off your shoulders like an invisible layer of dust. You had to succeed with your mission, some blonde guy stealing the drink you wanted for yourself was out of the question at the moment.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, no one you should care about. Now, what can I offer you, ___? Or are you going to just levitate around until you are brave enough to spill the tea? Because one of your friends is peeking from the booth like a chicken hidden in the bush. What is it that you want?” with those words, he leaned closer over the bar surface and you felt his hot breath hitting your face. And even though your senses were already covered by the heavy sheet made out of tequila and god knew what else, you still felt cigarettes and scotch in his breath, the favorite combination of his when he was working.

You chewed on your lower lip while the wheels in the back of your mind spun like crazy, contemplating whether to come out with your plan or just kept playing your little game of a spy on the mission - even though Kim Seokjin could see straight through you as if you were a thin piece of a transparent paper. So, with a heavy sigh, you smashed your palms against the bar in a dramatic gesture, looking him straight into his eyes. If someone was looking at you, and you were sure there was at least one person watching you besides your friends, they must have thought you were some kind of Seokjin’s crazy fangirl. Which wouldn’t be surprising since the man was quite famous at the university.

“I need Jimin’s number.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious, Seokjin. I need Jimin’s number otherwise I’m in a very big trouble. You have to save my ass,” you basically begged him, now almost laying on the bar as you leaned closer to him. The black-haired bartender only shook his head no and gave you a look somewhere between ‘I like you, you are my friend, but I can’t help you’ and ‘someone please just kill me already before I strangle this girl first’.

“I’m sorry but if you want Jimin number, you have to ask yourself. And since I know the number is not for you, you should tell your friend to man the hell up and ask him herself. He doesn’t bite, you know. Well, at least I think he doesn’t,” he shook his head again and handed you a shot of tequila he managed to pour you while he was talking. Small pout formed on your lips and you tried really hard to pull out the most innocent look on your face, but such a witchcraft had none effect on Kim Seokjin.

“You don’t understand - I promised my friend I would get the number for her. We placed a bet and if I lose… Seokjin, I can’t lose! Of my fucking god, I can’t lose this one. That would be the end of me.”

Something in his face shifted and now he looked genuinely interested in your little mission. A tiny spark of hope lit up in your chest when his eyes softened and he turned to you again.

“What’s the bet about?”

You felt the heat creeping into your cheeks each second of standing by the bar, your eyes now pinned on your hands still placed on its surface. The shot laid untouched in front of you even though you felt your mouth watering just by watching it. And although the level of alcohol in your bloodstream was already dangerously high, you reached out for it and downed the shot in one gulp. Just in case you needed some more courage.

“If I don’t get Jimin’s number tonight, I will have to get a tattoo by the end of the week. So, please, you have to save my ass, Seokjin. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want that tattoo, I’ve wanted it for some time already, but I’m still not sure and—“

“You got to be kidding me, ___. This is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,” the almost caring look in his face was quickly replaced by his notorious smug smirk and you knew you were fucked for the night. There was no way he was about to give you Jimin’s number, and walking around the bar, asking random strangers for Park Jimin’s number was out of question.

“I will never forget your betrayal, Kim Seokjin. I will never forget how you turned your back on me. And if you come to me asking for help, I will repay you the same,” your index finger touched his chest and while you were sure you looked dangerous and almost and vengeful, Seokjin just chuckled and sent you one of his precious flying kisses.

“Duly noted, sweetheart. Don’t forget to send me a photo of your new tattoo. I will be waiting.”

And just like that, with his words still echoing through your mind, you showed him your tongue and waltzed back to the table where your friends were sitting.

Of course, without Park Jimin’s number.

And the threat of getting a tattoo dangerously hanging above your head.

“I can’t believe they made me do it.”

It was Saturday morning and the betrayal of Kim Seokjin and the following cheering sounds of your friends still rang through your mind like an annoying sound of the alarm clock set on the phone. You weren��t about to get away with new pledges and promises of getting Park Jimin’s number because your friends simply weren’t about to let you. No, a deal was a deal and now that you lost the bet, you had to get that tattoo from the artist in a parlor downtown. It was a new one and judging by what Sunmi told you a few days ago, they only opened the salon three months ago. However, the number of followers on social network sites grew higher and higher each day so you and your friends agreed it was a good place to get your first tattoo.

Although you weren’t so sure now that you were crossing the street with a paper cup of coffee in your hands. It was an olive branch from your friends when they picked you up at the dorms early in the morning, proposing the breakfast at your favorite café near the university’s main campus. At least something to ease your mind before taking such a huge step forward.

You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder one last time, checking if those two creatures that came straight from the hell still sat in the car parked in the lot. And of course, they were still there, sending you thumbs up as if to give you a courage to step inside and get that goddamn tattoo. Thinking about that, it was all your fault because you were talking about getting one for a while, so it was only natural your friends took advantage of your big mouth and used it as a weapon against you. Although, you had to admit the smoothness they turned the bet into.

“Why am I even friends with you?” you muttered under your nose and took a sip of the coffee before you reached for the doorknob and pressed it, opening the door with a sound of ring bell accompanying your gesture. You peeked inside - and your inners immediately turned upside down with the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes. Not to mention you almost dropped the paper cup with coffee.

The studio itself looked neat and clean, shiny almost as each piece of furniture and accessory seemed brand new. Right opposite the front door sat a massive black desk with an office chair and a laptop placed on the top. But besides the PC, there was a small plant and an opened sketchbook with a picture you couldn’t see properly because you stood too far away. Not that you wanted to peek inside, not really. The wall behind the table was pitch black with a few modern art pieces and shelves full of books standing there. The remaining three walls were covered in various pieces of paper showing different tattoo motives that were apparently free for customers to choose. But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of your lungs and almost made you change your decision with backing the hell out of the studio, no. What made you almost squeal were two men half hidden behind the paravan that covered the tattooing area from the common area with two black leather sofas and a small coffee table. Even though you couldn’t see their faces properly, you exactly knew who they were. And the fact that one of them was indirectly responsible for you getting in this quite unfortunate situation made your blood boil.

“Park Jimin?”

Both of them immediately snapped in your direction while the said man rolled down his shirt and patted the blonde’s shoulder with a grateful smile curling the corners of his lips up. The blonde one only nodded but once his eyes met yours, there was something wicked mirroring behind his irises - and you were quickly reminded of the Thursday’s night and the talk you had with Seokjin after he successfully made the Jäger-train work. The blonde man was the one who stole your drink. The one who ever so shamelessly snatched it right out of your hands and walked away as if nothing had happened. You clearly remembered the wave of drunken rage that almost swept you off your feet the night it happened - the drink was supposed to be yours, not his. Either way, that fact only added to the moment of surprise you went through the second you realized the tattoo artist was no one else but the blonde thief with arms covered in ink.

“Oh, hi? You are the one from Seokjin’s Forensic Psychology class, right? ___? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked and at that moment, you felt like the dumbest dumbass walking the planet earth. What were you doing here? Oh, yes. The lost bet and the punishment you had to accept according to the terms of the deal. However, that wasn’t something you could come clean about since it would make you look like an… idiot. Complete idiot. So, instead of giving him an answer, your eyes flickered to the direction of the blonde tattoo artists who was now in the process of getting rid of the black latex gloves, throwing them into a trash bin. And as if he felt the weight of your eyes heaving him down, he looked at you with a slight hint of smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. He too seemed to be interested in your answer.

“Yep, that’s me. And to answer your question - I’m here to get a tattoo. I guess that’s what tattoo salons are for?” you tilted your head to the side and gave both males your best smile without being nervous about it.

“Do you have an appointment?” the blonde asked and approached the table where the sketchbook and other notebooks laid. As soon as his question sunk in the air filling the room, you cleared your throat and realized that, perhaps, you should have called beforehand, although this whole situation came into an existence during your Thursday night’s pre-game when you were already intoxicated and so determined to get Jimin’s number no matter what consequences might come out in case you simply failed.

Exactly like you did.

And it brought you here.

Silence fell over the room and for a split second, your brain came up with an idea of asking Jimin for his number and immediately backing away from the previous plan, but then, on the other hand, you weren’t about to chicken out of your punishment. You were too proud to do so.

“No, I don’t think so,” you smiled again, wishing for the mother earth to swallow you and spit you out on the other side of the world since the weight of the look in their eyes grew heavier and heavier each second that passed. They must have thought you were an idiot waltzing into a tattoo salon without an appointment on Saturday morning. Because who would have done that? No one but a psychology student who lost the bet and was now facing its consequences.

“Well, then I guess I will just leave you two alone. Lucky you, Jungkook was supposed to have a day off since it’s Saturday, but as I know him, he wouldn’t say no to a nice young lady, would he?” Jimin smirked and before Jungkook had the opportunity to throw the notebook in his direction, the brown-haired guy grabbed his jacket and disappeared from the salon at the speed of light.

And that made you feel bit anxious because right at the moment, it was just you and the tattoo artist Jungkook who managed to steal your drink, which, for some reason, couldn’t let you cold. The small and tiny voice in the back of your mind told you he must have been a member of the mythical postgraduate students’ group as well, but you weren’t stupid to voice your question out loud. You were just frozen in one place with lips forming a shape of a small ‘o’, unable to put together a rather coherent sentence to explain how you got into such a situation. Not that he should know each detail, but then again, he was the artist and according to Jimin’s words, he was supposed to have a day off until you came, and, well, obviously changed his plans.

Again, according to Jimin’s words.

“If you have a day off, I can come another time. Or I can book an appointment and—“

“It’s ____, right? I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you. Anyway, it’s fine. Jimin wasn’t on my list either when he came banging on the door early in the morning. One more tattoo wouldn’t kill me, really. I don’t have much to do, anyway,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and it genuinely surprised you how quickly he agreed on something that wasn’t on his schedule, therefore wasn’t supposed to happen. Honestly, you expected him to throw you out of the salon with the same sassy smirk and comment he addressed you with the night you met him at the bar. But nothing like that happened and you suddenly felt the inner storm gaining the momentum, throwing you off balance easily. And maybe, that was the reason you kept standing in one spot with lips still half-parted, staring at the young man standing in front of you with a smile plastered over his features. The smile first seemed to be innocent, reaching his eyes but mirroring something not so innocent any longer as the question slipped his lips. “Did you have fun with your friends?”

Wheezing noise came out of you and he raised his brows in unspoken question.

“I’d rather not talk about that night, really,” you rolled your eyes and bit on your inner cheek as the memory of the night came to you as a wrecking ball.

“Had too much to drink? You should be glad I managed to put my hands on the drink before you did then,” his innocent smile quickly turned into a smug one, reminding you of the way Seokjin basically laughed in your face when he found out about the bet. And since the bartender seemed to be familiar with the blonde tattoo artists, there was this one certain question that popped on your mind like a red light. Was it possible Seokjin told Jungkook about the bet? Did he out you?

No, Seokjin wouldn’t do that. He might have not helped you with getting Jimin’s number, but he certainly wouldn’t do something like blabbering about the bet to his friends who had nothing to do with that. Until now.

“About that - it was my drink, I had my eyes on that first,” you murmured but couldn’t help when the smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Fighting about something so trivial like a drink wasn’t really your thing, yet, for some reason you felt like this business needed to be taken care of.

“Then you should have been faster, love. Now, tell me about that tattoo of yours you want to get. Do you have something on your mind or am I free to come up with a design?” he asked, quickly shifting into his artist mode. He wasn’t really curious about the reason you ended up in his studio, nor he blamed you for barging in like Jimin did in the morning. He simply wanted to start to work, that was all. And you had to admit, it once again stole the wind from under your wings and left you standing there frozen in one place with lips parted but no words leaving them. A wave of admiration towards the young man that dedicated his free time to grace the skin of other people woke up inside of you and brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.

As the question settled in, your mind was suddenly blank like a fresh canvas, not a simple idea crossing it. Your loss of words made him chuckle before he turned to his table and reached for yet another sketchbook laying there. The sound of pages flipping filled the room, accompanied by Jungkook’s soft humming until he found what he was looking for.

“What do you think about this? It’s a free design I made a few days ago but I was too busy to put in on the wall. It looks like something that might suit you. Of course, it’s just my opinion,” with those words he handed you the sketchbook opened on a page with the design he had on mind for you. And you had to admit, it was beautiful. A simple line of flowers tangled together, nothing too exaggerating, quite the right opposite. However, you couldn’t quite grasp the concept of place where he wanted to put it.

“It looks really beautiful, and now I will probably sound too stupid, but where do you want to put it?” you asked, genuinely interested in his answer. Of course, he must have had an idea of where to place it once he was working on it. Your question brought a smile to his face as he came closer and gently grabbed the sketchbook from your hands. He put it back on the table while his right hand remained cuffing your left wrist.

“Here, around your wrist like a bracelet while the rest of the tattoo will continue to the back of your hand. Exactly here,” his fingers traced a delicate way from your wrist to the back of your hand, leaving a burning trace behind. Breath almost hitched in your throat when you realized how close he got to you without you realizing it, however, you quickly collected yourself and fixed your posture, looking into his dark eyes. “It’s your first tattoo and I believe I don’t have to tell you how important it is for you to choose the right place. Consider this a friendly opinion of mine. It would really suit you, ___.”

Just as he finished his little speech, his touch left your hand, yet the burning sensation remained lingering over the surface of your skin.

“That sounds like a really lovely idea,” you murmured as you brought your hand closer to your face, examining the place he traced with his fingers just seconds ago. As much as you weren’t excited about the idea of getting a tattoo this fast, although you’ve always wanted one, you started changing your mind in a snap of fingers. And whether it was the picture you really liked or Jungkook’s aura that was only hard to resist, you didn’t know. What you were sure about was the one and only thing - you weren’t about to back away from this decision. Not anymore.

You were surprised by yourself and the sudden discovery you missed the way Jungkook chuckled and shook his head over your strange behavior.

“Are you sure about that? Because I don’t really want you to chase me down the university halls in case you don’t like it anymore, you know? Tattoo is mostly a permanent thing and let me tell you, it’s really painful if you want to get rid of that. Not to mention it’s almost twice as expensive. Think about it, love,” it almost sounded like he tried to change your mind, and honestly, you felt like a child getting a lecture. Which you didn’t like at all.

“Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here in the first place if I wasn’t. I’ve wanted a tattoo for a very long time, I just didn’t give it a proper thought - as of what to get and where to place it. I was hoping that since you are a pro—you could help me out with that. Which you did, so…” you shrugged, giving him a look full of confidence. At least, you hoped you did. And as to seal your words, you took a step closer to him with a smile gracing your features. “So, can we do it today?”

Smirk flashed through his features and mirrored in his eyes.

“Of course, love.”

Jungkook put everything into motion rather smoothly and you had to admire the way he basically danced around the salon while he prepared everything he was about to need for your tattoo. From time to time, your eyes flickered to the already prepared design laying on the small table near the tattooing chair you were aiming for. Excitement rushed through your bloodstream just when you imagined the art on your hand. Funny, how everything changed in a snap of fingers and your annoyed mood was quickly replaced by the excitement in the form of butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” he asked with his back turned to you as he did some last preparations for your tattoo.

“Not at all. It’s your place, play whatever you want,” you shook your head and shrugged down the leather jacket you were wearing. The room was hot and you shouldn’t be wearing it anyway, so you took it off and climbed into the chair, waiting rather impatiently for the blonde artist to be done with his little preparations. The soft tunes of hip-hop music filled the air and you had to smile. For some reason, even though you didn’t know him at all, the music suited Jungkook very much. It went along the aura his persona gave off, almost hand in hand.

“What is that? I’ve never heard this song,” you asked curiously as you made yourself comfortable in the chair, leaning against the leather surface with the butterflies still playing the game of catch in your stomach. Have you really been that excited about getting that goddamn tattoo? Or was Jeon Jungkook responsible for the weird excitement you haven’t seen coming once you stepped out of your friend’s car? Such questions popped in your mind and you had to sigh in defeat as you didn’t have a single answer.

The way your question captured his attention and the way he turned to you with eyes sliding up and down your body in the tattooing chair certainly didn’t help to calm the storm inside of you.

“Do you know Jung Hoseok? He is one of the postgraduates, but other than studying, he likes to work on music. This is one of the songs he released within his mixtape a few weeks ago. It’s only on SoundCloud, so I don’t blame you for now knowing it, but you should give it a try. He is really good,” Jungkook smiled as he was apparently praising one of his good friends, reaching for the box of latex gloves to put a clean pair on. The gesture itself told you he was ready to start working on your design.

“Not only you are a mythical group everyone is talking about, but it seems like all of you have that hidden side no one knows about - well, besides Seokjin. Everyone knows he is the most handsome bartender. I guess he is the reason why the bar is still so packed. But hey, I will give that mixtape a shot. It sounds catchy,” you wondered out loud without giving your words a thought or two. Yet, it has already escaped your mouth and you couldn’t do anything about it. And when Jungkook chuckled, you only hoped he didn’t think you were a complete weirdo.

“Is that so? I’ve never heard anyone calling us a mythical group but I can see the point. It’s just we are always busy with the university and when there’s a slight chance to do whatever else than the research for doctoral thesis, we simply do what we love to do - and it differs from person to person. For me, it’s the salon and the art of tattoo. Although it mostly belongs to my older brother, every time I’m free from uni, I spend my time here,” he was open with you and it almost made your heart melt because even though he didn’t know you properly, he talked to you about the daily basis of his life as if you two were old friends. Plus, his words convinced you he didn’t think of you as a weirdo, which was definitely a very good sign. “I’m sure there’s something you love to do too.”

That made you wonder. There were many things you enjoyed doing, but suddenly, none of them came to your mind as Jungkook kept staring at you, probably waiting for the answer. Your brain worked faster than on the university entrance exam, yet the more pressure you put on that poor thing, the more alert it seemed to be.

“Honestly, I’m glad when I have a weekend off. This is my second year on the university and keeping my shit together is getting harder and harder. But well, there was this period of time when I enjoyed doing Yoga almost every day. Currently it’s just reading books and listening to music. Now you are going to think I’m one of those boring people who like to stay inside instead of partying with a large group of friends,” you decided to be honest with him because there was nothing left to lose. Also, why not being honest with someone who decided to sacrifice his own free time in spite of giving you tattoo?

“Why would I think you are boring? I love being by myself with a good book or a good movie on Netflix. However, I also like to go out with my friends from time to time. And I bet you do, too,” the teasing smirk was back on his lips, although it didn’t last long as he reached for your hand with excited sparkles dancing in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

You only nodded, watching him like a hawk when he reached for the disinfection and turned back to you with a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. And just like before, Jungkook easily slipped into his tattoo artist mode, moving around with grace and something more that made your eyes stay pinned on him rather shamelessly. He must have felt your eyes scanning him up and down when he did the magic to your hand - aka applying the disinfection and then wiping your skin gently once he was done. After that, he put some kind of gel on your skin and when you asked what he was doing, he only chuckled.

“I need to print the design on your skin. It helps with the process,” he said, not giving you a single glance as he was so drawn in each step of his job. Next time you looked down on your hand, he was pressing the paper against your skin, peeling it off after he was sure the design was completely imprinted. The picture came out blue and blurry in some places, but you knew that wasn’t an issue for someone like Jungkook. “Is it okay like that? Do you want me to move it a little?” he asked, pushing back on the chair he was sitting in for you to have space to inspect the future design of your tattoo. You brought your hand closer to your face, inspecting each detail of the pattern, internally already excited about how it was going to look once it was done and completed.

Honestly, it looked nice and somehow, you felt it suited you well. Exactly like he told you when he first showed you the design. Simple and delicate, yet somehow daring. Nonetheless, you must have been checking it for way too long as Jungkook cleared his throat and you were quickly snapped back to the reality.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I think the place is amazing, you don’t need to move it. I can already imagine it,” you smiled without the realization Jungkook was closer to you once again, his hot breath brushing against the skin of your exposed shoulder. You weren’t going to lie here, the shivers danced down your spine crazily and your head spun a little when the scent of his musky cologne attacked your senses. How come you didn’t catch it sooner? Never mind, this wasn’t the right time nor place to be weak for the blonde artist.

Although he was hot.

Very hot.

“Okay then, let’s get this beauty done,” he smirked and you couldn’t do otherwise but mirror the excitement that was entangled within his voice. You outreached your hand for him, mentally preparing for the pain to come. Bonus points for Jungkook who let you breathe out for a while before he grabbed the tattoo machine and leaned closer to you to the point you felt his breath and cologne again. Damn, that kind of thoughts must have clouded your mind completely because you hissed when the needle first touched your skin. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch nor you moved an inch in your seat. Soon, you grew kind of used to the new sensation glazing through your skin.

“You okay?” he looked up to your eyes after a minute or two, you didn’t count. You only nodded, chewing on your inner cheeks because you couldn’t describe the weird sensation. On the scale of ‘it hurts’ to ‘it’s kind of annoying’, your feelings balanced perfectly in the middle.

“Yeah. Just can’t decide if it hurts or not. I mean, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it was going to hurt. Am I weird?” you voiced out your thoughts with a chuckle accompanying them, hoping Jungkook would understand the message you tried to send.

“You are not weird. I’ve met countless people who couldn’t quite decipher what they felt, and to be honest with you, I’m surprised you are not squealing in pain considering the place you chose for your first tattoo is quite painful. No offense, of course. Anyway, yeah. Long time ago, me and my brother agreed this type of pain was… somehow exciting. You are expecting something great and you are willing to go such a length to get it, whilst the pain. I, personally, like that pain.”

“I can see that. Considering your arms are basically drowning in the ink. I like it,” the bold confession slipped your lips without you even realizing so. Jungkook stopped working for a split second and looked at you, eyes hazy and suddenly full of something that hasn’t been there before. And as much as you yelled at yourself internally to avoid his gaze, the other half of yourself did quite the right opposite. You started back with the growing smirk curling your lips in a teasing matter. Something inside of you enjoyed the little game that was slowly but surely getting out of control with each second that passed. If he could call you love, you could play with him in return as well.

All while keeping his eyes on yours, he started talking, the process of tattoo momentarily completely forgotten.

“Most of it is mine work, some of it my brother’s. Got my first one when I was sixteen and parents almost killed me. My brother went with me, he played the role of my legal guardian since I was still a minor. And that’s basically how this addiction started. First tattoo, drawing my own designs, getting the machine and experimenting on my own skin. I fucked up some and my brother had to cover it with another design. And I still want more,” he said, giving a special emphasis on the last word as his eyes flickered in your direction for the last time before he started working on the tattoo again. The stinging sensation grew heavier, yet you prevented yourself from yelping or flinching in your place.

Because the sensation of his burning stare caused you feel more than the process of inking your skin itself.

“That really is a sheer talent,” you murmured under your nose, still bothered with the thoughts that kept whirling in your mind like a vortex that swept everything along the way. You thought about his words again and again until a question rolled down your tongue. “Do you think I might end up wanting more too?”

He looked up to you with the long strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. The urge to push it behind his ear was too strong and you had to resist hard not to reach out to do it. Damn, there was something about him that kept bugging you like crazy.

“I don’t know, love. You can get rid of the tattoo in a year or less. Or you can come barge in like Jimin did because you will want another one. One can never know,” he said as he reached for the paper wipes to clean the first part of the tattoo that crawled around your wrist. His touch was gentle and caring, almost as sweet as the smile that appeared on his lips when he said: “I’m going to finish the outlining and then we can take a break if you want. But I should warn you that after the break, it might hurt a little. Your skin will be triggered, so if you feel dizzy or something, let me know.”

“Now you sound like I might pass out.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one,” again, the sound of his laugh filled the room and you rolled your eyes. “But so far, you are holding really bravely. You are definitely not going to pass out.”

The next twenty minutes passed in silence between the two of you, only the soft tunes of R&B music filled the room. However, that wasn’t something that disturbed you, quite the right opposite. You managed to relax yourself, body almost melting against the chair as you let Jungkook finish outlining the tattoo. However, despite your relaxed state, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he touched you even though it was just a part of his job. Of course he had to touch you, of course he had to be careful with what he was doing.

But there was something more to it. Something more about Jeon Jungkook and the way he talked to you when he explained the story behind his tattoos. The way his eyes from time to time flickered to you and refused to leave just to hold a tiny piece of eye-contact. Not that you wanted to flatter yourself, but you did. This wasn’t only in your head - he was staring because he probably felt the same connection or how you should call it.

No, it was not connection.

Perhaps something else.

Something you would dare to call desire.

But then again, you didn’t want to flatter yourself.

But you did.

The realisation you were all hot and disturbed because of the blonde tattoo artist covered in ink felt fresh and exciting, however, you were quickly pulled out of the pool of your thoughts when he pushed back and put down the machine, getting rid of the gloves. He threw them into a trash bin and when he looked at you, there was this bunny smile gracing his features.

“Time for a little break. Do you want coffee or something? I bet the one you brought with you must be already cold,” he shook his head and got up from the seat, eyes still pinned on you. For some reason, a thought of him being able to read your thoughts momentarily flashed through your mind - and you felt stupid for even thinking about it. Of course, it was only able in those fantasy books you loved reading.

Yet, his eyes mirrored something deeper.

“Coffee, please. With milk and sugar if I can ask.”

“Of course. Everything for you, love.”

Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said it might hurt after the break. The skin on your hand was triggered and burning, however, you were too proud to admit it was getting too painful and too unbearable. Instead, you kept biting on your inner cheek while your eyes remained on his focused face and his skillful fingers that were almost done with the tattoo. What was first a design in Jungkook’s little sketchbook was now a beautiful art gracing the skin of your hand in a very delicate way. Just when the art was done and Jungkook cleaned your skin, he put on a transparent tape over it and gave you yet another bunny smile.

“And, we are done,” he pushed away from you and got rid of the latex gloves, cleaning the mess around while you hopped down from the chair and checked yourself in the mirror on the wall (although you didn’t really have to since the tattoo was perfectly visible just by looking at it). As you were scanning your posture in the reflection, you also felt something else. A pair of eyes running up and down your body rather shamelessly, and you had to admit - you enjoyed the attention he was giving you.

“You are strangely silent and I’m not sure if I like it or not,” Jungkook surprised you with his words, causing you to finally turn to him with a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was already done with cleaning the space, now sitting in the tattooing chair with arms folded over his chest. Something about him was so mesmerizing you found yourself unable to look away and take a deep breath. He seemed the same, though, giving you a rather intimidating look full of undisclosed attention and something more.

“I was just checking the masterpiece you created, that’s all. It looks amazing,” your voice came out strong and steady, surprising even yourself when you finished the sentence with a smile plastered over your features. Ever since you crossed the threshold of Jungkook’s salon, you managed to boost your confidence a little over the small talk and the cup of coffee you two had together during the short break.

“Now you are exaggerating, love. Anyway, I’m glad you like it. The first one is always very special. At least in my case,” the smirk was soon replaced by the bunny smile you found too cute on a guy like Jungkook. His appearance and look probably confused many people - including you. When you saw him for the first time, you thought he was a bad boy, a player, someone who would toy with you around only to tell you off the next day. But the more you were talking to him through the session, the more convinced you grew he was actually a nice guy with passion for art and tattoos. He was a nice example of that ‘to not judge the book by its cover’ saying. Those thoughts seemed to occupy your mind for longer than you thought as Jungkook slid down the chair and came closer to you, examining the tattoo he has just given you. “And it looks very good on you. Hot and tempting, but also sweet and delicate. It’s complimenting you well, love,” this time, he put a special emphasis on the last word, catching you completely off guard. However, you quickly collected yourself as your eyes found his, already staring. Once again, he came too close to you, completely destroying the last pieces of your personal space, but for some reason, you didn’t give a damn. If he was about to play, you weren’t the one to chicken out of this. No, not really. Therefore, came the answer with a smile flashing through your features and the smirk your eyes managed to pull out.

“Thank you, I like that place too. And who knows, I might come for more once I think about it deeper,” you smiled and internally fought the urge to touch him somehow. Anyhow. The aura around him was so welcoming you almost heard it whispering those teasing words into your ear, luring you to come closer despite the fact his work was over for now. You didn’t want to be done with him, not yet. You wanted more.

And moreover, you wanted him to call you like that again.

Gosh, being attracted to someone has never been more annoying than at this very moment when you wanted nothing more but to lean closer and—

“I’d be very happy, to be honest,” he took a step back, however, the smirk remained lingering over his facial features, giving you that tiny spark of hope that the game wasn’t finished just yet. But then again, he took a step back and it was a sign for you to do the same.

“Surely I will let you know in advance next time. Now, how much do I owe you?”

“How much what?”

“How much for the tattoo, Jungkook,” you couldn’t help but put a special emphasis on his name that rolled down your tongue easier than you first expected. He seemed to be caught off guard momentarily before a soft sound of him chuckling filled the room.

“Nothing,” he shrugged as if it indeed was nothing, as if he just didn’t grace your skin with his art.

His answer made you look at him in pure shock, blinking once and twice before his answer settled and you finally understood the simple word that left his lips. Just when you were about to scold him a little, he caught you unprepared with yet another shocking answer. “I stole a drink from you, so think about this as a payback. Also, you seem to be friends with Seokjin - and Seokjin’s friends are my friends.”

It was quick and bold answer, leaving you standing there as if someone spilled a bucket of cold-ass water over your head. Your lips formed a shape of a small ‘o’ and you very probably looked like a complete idiot.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I came here on your day off; you can’t give me a tattoo for free.”

“My studio, my rules, love. However, you are right about this one,” he wondered out loud, giving you a look that you couldn’t decipher, quite the right opposite. The look and his answer made your heart beat faster, almost as if it wanted to jump straight out of your ribcage. However, you kept it cool, just casually waiting for him to tell you more.

But he didn’t.

“So?”

“So… let’s just say you owe me this one, love. Let’s settle this as a debt I can collect anytime I want. What do you think about that?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that was supposed to look innocent, yet there was nothing innocent about the mischief burning in his eyes. And despite the fact you didn’t know what did he mean by the ‘debt he could collect anytime he wanted’, the idea somehow excited you, causing the butterflies to play the game of catch in your tummy again.

“I think that’s something I can agree on.”

“Then give me your number, love,” he fetched his phone and unlocked it, handing it to you right after. You took a deep breath, typing the number and giving it back almost immediately. You didn’t dare to save the number, honestly curious about what name he was about to use for you. But as much as you tried to peek, Jungkook turned away from you, typed something down and then gave your phone a quick call so you had his number as well. Just then he put the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. Pout momentarily flashed through your features, but once he turned back to you, it was quickly replaced by a smile. At least you had his number now.

“Alright so… I’m gonna go now. Thank you for… you know, staying and working despite you were supposed to have a day off.”

“No need to thank me, pretty one. Let me tell you, it was a very well spent time. I will see you around? Perhaps on Seokjin’s anniversary party at the bar next week? Or… perhaps sooner, who knows,” the same mysterious look appeared in his face once again as he gave you a look. You tried not to pay attention to the way he ghosted after you while you collected your stuff and slid into the leather jacket. “And don’t forget to take care about the tattoo. Leave the tape on for approximately twenty-four hours and then gently wash it. And use a special lotion, here, I almost forgot,” it was impressive how quickly he snapped into his artist mode, reaching for one of the tubes standing on the shelf nearby. “Here, use this. Twice or thrice a day. If anything, call me.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. I will see you.”

“I already can’t wait, ____.”

Perhaps Jungkook was right when he said he would see you at the bar next week. And maybe, just maybe, you expected that stupid call or debt-collecting way sooner. Because once you came home from the tattoo session at his salon, you did nothing else but stared at your phone, almost cursing yourself for being that worked up over a boy you’ve only spent a few hours with. Yet, he left you excited and expecting, although nothing came. The week was long and boring, you mostly spent it with your friends or cuddled under the blanket with Netflix and bottle of red wine. From time to time, you thought about giving him a call first, but you always declined the idea as soon as it rubbed against your mind. You didn’t want to seem desperate; you didn’t want to look like another freshmen thirsting over the postgrad student, way out of your league.

But then again.

The way he talked to you never left your memory, quite the right opposite. Your brain decided to rub it in your face until the night of Seokjin’s anniversary party came and your friends came barging into your dorm room with paper bags full of alcohol they claimed to be a ‘pre-game you needed’. Drinks were followed by loud laughter and fight over who was about to use the bathroom first - because it had the biggest mirror and the best lightning needed for a precise make-up process.

Hours later, you finally made it to the bar, wearing short black dress your friends chose for you despite your loud protest. At first, it felt a bit uncomfortable because you were used to visit the place wearing jeans or shorts with comfortable tops, but once you realized you weren’t that underdressed, it calmed your mind a little since there were girls wearing considerably less amount of clothes.

“I’m thinking about tequila, what about you?” one of your friends asked, actually not waiting for you answer as she made a straight bee line towards the bar. Not caring about people waiting, she fought her way towards the bar and ordered you a round of the drink you swore you would never drink again. Yet, some promises were made to be broken - all over again, in your case.

After you received your shot of tequila, you cheered with your friends but not for long. It literally took them ten minutes to disappear, dancing in random corners of the bar with random dudes while you tried your best to find a calmer place - which was a corridor that led to the restrooms and deeper, where the visitors of the establishment weren’t allowed.

Not that you weren’t about to have fun, not at all. You just wanted to check your phone in case… well, you were probably very much head over heels for Jeon Jungkook who didn’t give you a call or spared you a text since last Saturday, but who were you to blame him?

“Looking for someone?”

You almost jumped in your place, placing the phone back into your purse as you turned around and face Seokjin, the handsome bartender to whom this crazy party has been dedicated. Instead of his usual place behind the bar, he seemed to have a night off, enjoying the party at its fullest.

“No, not really. My friends dumped me and I wanted to check my phone, that’s all,” you shrugged with a smile on your face, crossing your arms over your chest right after. “What about you? Aren’t you having fun tonight? It’s your third anniversary as the most handsome bartender - as I heard. What are you doing here?”

Yes, what was he doing there? In the hallway that led towards the door to the supply room when he wasn’t even working? Perhaps he was seeking some lone time as well, you didn’t know.

“Oh, we are at the VIP box with the guys but we ran out of some bottles so I was just going to get them. It’s easier than fetching it from the bar. Do you mind giving me a helping hand?” he asked with a genuine smile plastered over his features. You quickly nodded, following him to the supply room. You’ve never been there before which made you feel like going on an adventure. Seokjin quickly grabbed a few bottles of whisky, handing you two of them as he collected more. You gave him a look but he left it without answer which only left you wondering just how many guys were out there, sitting in the VIP box he had mentioned before.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” you asked and followed him out of the supply room, hands full of bottles of alcohol. Seokjin scoffed but smile crawled to his lips almost immediately.

“I’d rather spend the night behind the bar. I mean, I’m not saying I’m not enjoying the night, but it feels different to be on the other side. I guess I’ve been working here for way too long to enjoy a proper night off.”

“Come on, this is your party, you should enjoy it,” you nudged him as you navigated your way through the crowd of people dancing on the floor. The VIP box was located on the second floor of the bar, way calmer spot for people who just wanted to chat and enjoy the night without bumping into already intoxicated (mostly) freshmen. Way up there was a bit challenging with high heels and your hands full, but you successfully reached the spot - and almost dropped the bottles when your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook’s. He seemed to be surprised to see you up there but he quickly adapted to the situation and offered you a smile that quickly transformed into a welcoming smirk.

You put the bottles on the table, completely ignoring the looks of others, and straightened your posture.

“Okay, so… I’ll go,” you didn’t know who did you address your words to, but Seokjin was the one to answer you almost immediately.

“Why would you go? You said your friends dumped you. Stay with us for a while and then you can go. I don’t think the others would mind,” he said, turning to the guys sitting around the table. They shrugged one after another until it came to Jimin and Jungkook. The duo seemed to welcome you way warmer than the others, deep into a conversation about a thesis that was completely out of a place.

“Come, sit, sweetheart,” Seokjin ushered you to the last vacant spot next to Jungkook who immediately moved to give you slightly more space. Not so much, though, as he shamelessly threw his arm on the couch over your arms. He didn’t touch you, but you knew the motion spoke for itself.

“So, you got dumped, huh?” he asked, leaning a bit closer so you could hear him. The music might have been a bit more silent than down there, but people still needed to sit closer to each other if they didn’t want to yell like crazy. Exactly like the rest of them since the conversation seemed to escalate into something reminding more of a fight.

“It depends on the point of view. They were pretty much smashed before we even arrived here. You know, the pre-game and stuff. So, after a shot of tequila, they disappeared to look for an adventure like Powerpuff girls. I’m not blaming them, it’s not the first time. And right now, I guess I’m talking way too much, aren’t I?” you looked at him, kind of flustered by your own behavior. The words just fell off your mouth without you thinking about them first. Perhaps you were intoxicated more than you first thought and it perfectly mirrored on the way you were talking to him - shamelessly and without filter between your brain and mouth.

“You can never talk too much, love.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. At least you are not blushing and giggling like crazy. That’s really something I’m not digging,” he shook his head and looked into your eyes but soon, the gaze dropped to the hand in your lap. He gently reached for it, his thumb recreating the lines of the tattoo that was already in the process of healing. “Seems like you didn’t forget to take care about it. Good girl,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and his breath caressed your skin. Your eyes met and your heart fluttered, the urge to lean closer was back and on the highest alert. Yet, you were still not intoxicated enough to simply lean closer, grab his collar and kiss him right here, in front of his friends. Also, the way Seokjin peeked over his shoulder to check on you to stopped you from proceeding with the plan that has just come to life in your mind.

But taking one brave step forward would harm anyone, would it?

You leaned closer to his ear, desperately fighting the way his cologne was making you go crazy, and whispered: “Exactly like you told me, Jungkook.”

His posture changed and you could swear you saw the muscles shifting under the layers of clothes he was wearing. With clenched jaw and closed eyes, it took him a while to come back to his senses. Yet, you never pulled away from him, enjoying the scent of his musky cologne taking over your senses rather quickly.

“Love, what are you doing right now?”

“What am I doing?” you asked, blinking once and giving him an innocent smile. “I’m not doing anything, Jungkook. I just let you know I’m taking care about my tattoo the way you told me to.”

“Right,” he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. Something inside of you chuckled, the silent voice telling you that indeed, the game you started to play last week was on the table once again. With those thoughts, you watched as he reached for one of the bottles on the table and turned to you with a question mirroring in his eyes. You only nodded, giving him a go to pour you a glass.

Suddenly, you completely forgot about the pre-game drinks and the round of tequila you had shortly after you’ve arrived at the establishment. You forgot how annoying the hungover might be in the morning. Also, it was too late to think about it when Jungkook handed you a glass of whisky you brought with Seokjin. It was neat, without ice cubes you would be happy for, but this had to do.

“To—is there something we should cheer to, love?” he asked, taking his previous place next to you. Dangerously close to you. You looked at the glass in your hands and let out a humming sound.

“First, we should toast to Seokjin. In the end, this is his party,” with those words, you turned to Seokjin who occasionally kept an eye on you two. He smiled and nodded, joining the toasting process without even being invited. When the others joined and their loud cheering filled the space, you turned back to Jungkook without taking a sip of the drink. “And then, perhaps, we should drink to this masterpiece you managed to create on my hand,” you smiled softly, yet the softness never reached your eyes as the game has already started. And you hated being on the losing end.

“You are the fierce one, I see. Honestly, I misjudged you a bit,” he said, downing the drink and putting the empty glass on the table. You did the same and leaned back, your nape brushing against his arm that managed to find the way around your shoulders once again.

“Now you got me interested. How did you misjudge me, Mr. Jeon?”

“Easy as that - you came to my studio visibly stressed on Saturday morning. I knew you were not sure about getting the tattoo at first, but then, something changed. As if something has clicked inside of you and you took the complete opposite direction. I liked that. I liked that a lot. But then again, I’ve already told you I’m not digging the fake shy game. You decided to be honest with me,” he shrugged, offering you a genuine smile.

And that was the moment the smile vanished from your face.

Because you weren’t completely honest with him.

You didn’t tell him the whole tattoo thing was just a bet because you didn’t manage to get Jimin’s number. Yes, that satan who now sat at the same table as you, laughing loudly on something his best friend told him. However, you weren’t mad about the bet anymore, because what came out of the consequences you had to accept was something beautiful. Something you fell in love with your eyes fell on it.

And perhaps that was the reason you decided to be honest with Jungkook once again. You took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm the inner storm that dispersed the game of catch the butterflies played in your stomach.

“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Come at me, love. Tell me whatever you want.”

“The tattoo… when I came into your salon last weekend, without having an appointment… it was a consequence of a bet I lost the night you stole my drink. I— I believe I don’t have to tell you what that bet was about, but the condition was simple. If I fail, I’m about to get a tattoo. I believe my friends used it against me because I was talking about getting one for quite a time, so… this was just a push for me,” suddenly, you weren’t so brave and bold as before. You felt shrinking in your seat, the touch of his hand on your shoulder almost burning. For some reason, you expected a storm coming but instead, your senses met with a chuckle that escaped Jungkook’s lips. He shook his head, giving you a rather unbelievable look.

“So, a bet, huh? I’m not gonna lie to you, love. You are not the first one to get a tattoo because of a bet. Although, I didn’t consider you the type to accept conditions like this. I guess I should put that on the mental list I made about you - things about ____ that keep surprising me. We should drink to that.”

You looked at him with mouth wide open, probably looking like an idiot. You were expecting a lecture but instead, he laughed in your face - and didn’t forget to flirt along the way. And although you were pretty much caught off guard, you quickly collected yourself and relaxed a little. Your little secret was out and you felt much lighter.

“May I know what was that bet about?”

“No, you may not. Now, pour us that drink.”

“Savage. I like that as well,” smirk graced his features momentarily. Your glasses were soon filled with another round of the golden liquid that easily slid down your dry throat and numbed your senses more. The good old feeling of intoxication clouded your view of world and your head spun a little, making you lean into Jungkook. The blonde didn’t seem to mind as he finished his drink and his hand other hand slid to your thigh, leaving a burning trail as it finished its journey on your exposed knee. He was silent for a moment, his eyes dropped to his hand that explored your skin, fingers dancing on the floor of your naked skin. The sparks of electricity were undeniable, making you take a deep breath.

“So? How did you decide? Do you want to get rid of that or do you want another one?” his hot breath met the sensitive skin under your ear as he leaned closer to ask you a question you didn’t see coming. Just then his hand left your knee and grabbed yours, thumb once again recreating the lines of tattoo he gave you. The way he was basically curled around you, shielding you from the outer world that seemed to go wild around you, made your breath got stuck in your throat, unable to give him a proper answer even though you were basically screaming in the back of your mind.

“I haven’t given it a thought yet, to be honest. But if I wanted another one, I’d definitely book an appointment beforehand, no worries about that.”

“Well, that’s your call to make. You have my number, so it’s going to be fairly easy,” he murmured, leaning even closer to you, not giving a damn about his friends sitting around the same table. You looked at him, taking a deep breath just to get a little bit higher on his musky cologne. And although his breath was mixed with alcohol and perhaps cigarettes as well, you so wanted to lean in and kiss those two sweet cushions. Inches of air held you from kissing each other, inches of nothing but space you hated so much. You hated it existed and you hated it prevented you from kissing the blonde tattoo artists. Although, everything you needed to do was simply to lean in and steal the kiss.

You didn’t do it.

No, you didn’t.

Because he was faster.

He crossed the last line of your personal space and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss that was sweet but tempting at the same time. You felt the tip of his tongue caressing your lower lip, wordlessly asking for a permission to slip in and give you more.

But there was this thing.

You weren’t alone. Not at all.

That was the reason you pushed back even though the kiss left you feeling like a hot mess. And before you had a chance to speak, he pressed his index finger on your lips.

“It’s time to collect my debt, love.”

“Collect how?”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, boldly.

You felt your head spinning and you didn’t know whether it was because of the alcohol or the excitement that rolled through your body and settled in your core, sending painful pangs to your lower parts. Yet, you managed to give him an answer right away.

“Like where?”

“Like to my place.”

“Gladly.”

The cold night outside seemed to be the only witness of your little escape from Seokjin’s party. Jungkook’s friends sitting around the table were too busy with the fiery conversation going on to notice the two of you left, and your friends were nowhere to be seen. The club was packed, so Jungkook had to hold your hand tightly when he navigated the way through the ocean of dancing bodies. You liked it; the way his fingers tangled with yours, holding tightly onto you just to be sure you wouldn’t disappear or bail from his debt-collecting plan.

When you finally got out of the club, the cold air brushed against your skin and sobered you up a little to the point you realized what you were about to do, but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he led the way down the street, knowing exactly where to go. Just when you crossed the street and walked for a few more minutes, you realized his studio wasn’t that far away.

The studio.

Was he really taking you to his studio?

“Didn’t you say we are going to your place?” you asked, a little bit dumbfounded when he didn’t aim for the main entrance of the tattoo salon, but instead led the way to the other side of the building. Another door came to your sight and Jungkook fished the keys from the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He noticed you staring at him with furrowed brows and he chuckled.

“Of course, love. This is my place, you just haven’t seen it all, that’s it,” he said as he unlocked the door and pulled you into a dark hallway. He closed the door and locked it again, but instead of turning on the lights, his arms sneaked around your waist like a pair of snakes, pulling your body closer into his. The way he teased you back in the club was nothing compared to how he held you at the moment, his chest hot and heaving with every breath he took brushing against you, igniting the fire again. “I hope you didn’t change your mind, princess.”

“Not yet,” teasing words rolled down your tongue and were followed by loud yelp when Jungkook’s hands slid down your bum and made you jump into his arms. The dim light of the street lights that peeked inside through the windows illuminated his face and revealed the smirk curling his lips.

“Love, you know I like it when you are fierce, but even I have my boundaries. So, if you don’t want to end up with blue ass and shaking legs, I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” he murmured into your ear and turned around as if you weighed nothing. His motion only made you wrap your arms around his shoulder and bury your face into his neck. Soon, you felt him climbing the stairs to the upper floor. Curiously, you looked around only to see nothing. The room was covered in darkness, not even the street light reaching inside.

“Mhm, mysterious,” you mumbled under your breath and squinted your eyes in desperate effort to scan the place. Jungkook only chuckled and continued in his little journey until he reached one of the doors, bringing you inside. Finally, he switched the lights on and revealed the place he brought you to.

The room was coated in darkish colors and was dominated by a big bed with sheets crumpled in a messy pile. Opposite the bed was a working table with PC and a pile of sketchbooks and in one of the corners stood a guitar. The rest of the room was made by wardrobe, drawers and shelves. It was simple yet it somehow complimented his persona. For a while, you just stood there, looking around yourself to grasp a tiny detail that would tell you something more about Jungkook’s character. And just when you were about to dive in, a pair of strong arms curling around your waist from behind cut the train of your thoughts.

“Do you want something to drink?”

You turned in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck to pull him into a kiss that seemed to be the most natural thing ever. Your lips met in a sweet kiss that soon grew into something more heated, perhaps a fight for dominance you immediately lost as he pressed you closer to his chest and caressed your lower lip with his tongue. You opened your mouth, welcoming him with a silent whimper that crawled from deep inside of you. He smirked into the kiss, deepening it a little to lure another series of moans out of you. And when he pulled away with the same smirk still playing over his features, you pouted.

“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to drink. I want you,” you murmured and your fingers started to work on his leather jacket, slowly rolling it down his shoulders until the piece of clothing hit the floor. But you didn’t stop, the jacket wasn’t enough. Your fingers found the way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing one after another until his firm chest came to view and you took a deep breath.

“Seem like you like what you see, love,” Jungkook wondered out loud, chuckling right after. Honestly, you didn’t mind stripping you off the clothes that covered upper part of his body. He didn’t even mind when your fingers touched his burning skin and recreated the lines of tattoo covering his chest and stomach, mainly the tattoo of tiger and its paw that disappeared under the waistband of his peeking boxers. When you touched him there, his hand shot up and handcuffed your wrist. “In this household, we play the fair game,” with his words, you found yourself pressed against the wall with his lips lingering around the skin of your neck. So close, yet so far; his lips left you desiring when he didn’t kiss you there. And you were craving him. You wanted him like crazy. Your mind was clouded, your eyes seeing red as he carefully peeled your jacket off your body. Cold air mixed with his hot breath gently caressed your skin and you trembled, wishing for nothing but to be in his arms already.

“Then strip me,” surprisingly, your voice came out steady and full of confidence. Even Jungkook blinked once before the infamous smirk flashed through his features - and to your very surprise, he took a step back until the back of his knees meet the bed and he sat down. Spreading his legs while leaning back on his elbows, he teasingly clicked his tongue and you felt his eyes running up and down your body.

“Why don’t you do it yourself, love?”

Wave of heat rolled through your body and your cheeks flushed momentarily. He took the game to yet another level and for a split second, you weren’t so sure about playing. But then again, your eyes briefly flickered in his direction and you had to swallow the whimper crawling up your throat.

“Fine,” you shrugged and reached for the straps of your dress, internally cursing your friends for making you wear it. This piece of dress was too tight to allow you to wear a bra underneath, but thankfully, you could afford to wear at least panties. The process of thinking slowed down your motion which only boosted the hunger in Jungkook’s eyes. The spark of power play flashed between the two of you as you finally managed to pull one string down - and the second followed right after. You’ve never stripped in front of anybody - if you didn’t count your friends, but that was a completely different case - so you weren’t so sure about what you were doing. Yet, Jungkook seemed to like it. His hand slid to his crotch where the bulge started to form while a silent curse left his lips.

You pushed the fabric lower over your hips and let it hit the floor before you stepped out of it, kicking the high heels off your feet along the way. Shivers danced down your naked spin and you trembled a little under the weight of Jungkook’s heavy gaze. He was silent for a while, only staring at you as his tongue poked his inner cheek.

“I always knew you were a piece of art, love,” his words surprised you and brought yet another wave of blush to your cheeks. Even in the middle of a heated moment he was complimenting you like a true gentleman. His posture straightened as he sat on the bed and signaled you to come closer. “Come closer, sweetheart.”

Your body acted on autopilot, approaching him only to stop between his parted legs. He looked at you from down there, long blonde strands of hair falling into his eyes as his hot breath brushed against the soft spot under your exposed breasts. The shyness went completely away when he leaned closer and his lips traced a line of wet kisses down your stomach. And again, as if your body didn’t belong to you at all, your fingers found a way to his hair, tugging on the strands tightly when he slid down the bed and dropped to his knees to reach lower.

The tingling started in your fingertips, making them numb to the soft feeling of his hair, and continued to your inners, travelling down to your core that you already felt dripping wet. Your panties were ruined the moment Jungkook stick his tongue and copied the curve of its lacy hem. But before he could do something more, you pushed away, looking at him through your hazy eyes.

“Sit.”

Throaty laugh crawled out of his mouth, but he obediently sat back on the bed, waiting for your move. You weren’t so sure about your next move, but what you knew what that you couldn’t let him continue in his little play. You were already balancing at the edge of falling down the pit of pleasure - and honestly, you didn’t want to let go that easily. And that soon.

You waged your way between his legs only to drop to your knees like he did seconds ago, undoing his pants rather quickly. The bulge in his pants didn’t escape your attention and you found yourself licking your lips. The situation completely took over your senses and turned you into a someone who desperately sought something raw and feral.

“Must be painful, isn’t it, honey?” he was the pro in using pet names, but who said you couldn’t give him one as well? Mainly when he looked like he really enjoyed you calling him like that. However, you quickly hushed those thoughts to the corner of your mind and rolled down his pants, throwing it into the space behind you. Fierce, really. Suddenly, Jungkook was sitting in front of you only in his boxers, yet you decided to get him rid of those as well.

Wearing nothing but ink and the smug smirk on his face, you took another deep breath to calm your senses before your eyes dropped to his lower area. Tall and hard, his cock brushed against his underbelly with his red tip that called for some attention.

“It indeed was painful, thank you for your help, little one,” suddenly, his voice dropped a few tones lower and you swallowed hard, contemplating what to do next. Of course, you weren’t stupid, you knew what to do next. However, you wanted to adore the view in front of you for a little longer.

Because the naked man in front of you kicked the air out of your lungs completely.

“Well then we should do something about it, don’t you think?” you leaned closer, fingers curling around the base of his pulsing cock. Whimper escaped Jungkook’s lips and you smirked, leaning even closer to gently kiss his rosy tip.

“Love, don’t tease me,” he murmured, voice deeper than before because of the tense atmosphere lingering around. You had none of his shit as you took him in and twirled your tongue around his length, feeling the veins popping out. You gave him a few licks before diving deeper, letting his tip brush against the back of your throat. His whole body tensed under you and his hand found a way to your hair, tugging on it rather harshly. Not that you minded.

“Fuck, love, just like that—“ he threw his head back and moaned loud, causing you to swallow on purpose. You looked up at him exactly at the same moment he looked at you, eyes wide open as a deer caught in the flashlight in the middle of the road. What happened next was too fast for you to catch up but suddenly, you found yourself caged under his firm body on the bed, legs wide apart as he squeezed himself in between. His whole posture changed, the features of a soft artist were gone and replaced by something harsher and hungrier. He was hungry for lust and passion. He was hungry for you.

“It’s time for you to get rid of these,” he murmured, pushing away only to get you rid of the panties. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room and you gasped, giving him a rather offended look.

“Those might have not been my favorite one, but hey! I’m not going home completely underwear-less!”

“Who said you are going back home?” the cockiness in his voice caught you completely off guard and unprepared when he parted your legs again and slid lower, making himself comfortable in between. “Because I’m not letting you go home that soon, love,” with those words, you felt his lips burning a fiery path down your underbelly until he reached your womanhood. And then, the fireworks exploded behind your closed eyes. First, you felt his lips sparing your nether lips soft kisses, nibbling and sucking gently. Then, you felt his tongue sliding up and down your slit, lapping around to drink your juices. And last, you felt his teeth gently teasing your clit which almost pushed you towards the bliss you wanted to hold off for as long as possible.

But your plans were ruined the moment you felt one of his fingers pushing in slowly, curling inside only to leave your body twisting on his bed and in his sheets. Soon, second finger followed, stretching you oh so good while his lips never stopped the wicked dance with your clit. Moans mixed with curse words fell down your lips and your fingers tangled within his blonde locks in a desperate need for climax. And as it was slowly building inside of you, you rolled your hips against his face and now three fingers that pushed in and out in a desperately slow manner. The man exactly knew what he did to you - and he enjoyed it.

“Jungkook—I—I need to cum. Please—“ you stuttered with the last strength you found in yourself, giving him a look. He started back, looking like a hot mess between your legs with your juices glistering all over his face.

“You sound so good when you are pleading, love. Do you want it that much? Huh?” he asked, picking up the pace and you nodded, desperately rolling your hips against his hand. You felt the spasm coming, dangerously close, peeking around the corner. Chuckling sound filled the room as he dove deep into your core again, this time sucking harsher. That was the last action that finally pushed you towards the first orgasm of the night. You let go and welcomed the warm arms of the bliss, screaming and moaning while Jungkook tried his best to guide you through the paradise. The motion of his hands slowed down and he spared your inner thighs sweet kisses to calm you down a little.

It’s been a while since you experienced orgasm this hard and heavy, clouding your senses for minutes until you came back to yourself. You opened your eyes to meet Jungkook’s. He was hovering over your, his erecting poking your inner thighs only reminding you that indeed, he needed some release as well.

“You are so beautiful,” with those words, he leaned closer and gave you a taste of yourself, the kiss so sweet but so passionate at the same time. After you were sure your body recharged at least a little, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, bodies colliding together. Yet, what was sweet once again turned into something not so innocent anymore. His hips rolled against yours and you were again reminded of his pulsing shaft.

“Jungkook—“

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you. Take me. Make me yours.”

“As you wish, my love,” he spared you one last kiss before he pushed away and reached for the nightstand. You gave him a confused look before you realized he was reaching for a pack of condoms. Smile sneaked to your features as you grabbed his arm and pulled him closer again. And at that moment, it was his turn to be confused.

“You don’t need that. I’m clean and on pills so—“

“Shit, don’t tell me twice,” he was back above you, his hand crawling down to his shaft to give himself a few pumps before you felt his tip brushing against your slit. The familiar wave of heat rolled through your body and you didn’t even have enough time to collect yourself as he slowly pushed in, grunting noise accompanying his motion. Slowly, from the tip to the base he filled your pulsing walls and halted, his eyes scanning your face to find a tiny hint of discomfort. However, there was none, only a pure need to urge him to move.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” his voice came out low and hoarse with the first roll of his hips. Unable to form any coherent word or sentence, you only nodded, desperately reaching for him to hold onto something. The gentleman he was, he leaned closer, however the motion caused him to part your legs even wider until you find yourself in a position when your legs were pressed against your chest while Jungkook picked up the pace, sliding deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips. He looked at you and despite the lust that almost sent you to another dimension, you managed to give him a smirk.

“I told you—I did yoga.”

“From now on, you are only practicing yoga with me, love,” smug smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as his thrust became harsher and you felt his tip hitting your cervix.

“You wish,” your teasing manners didn’t leave you even in such a situation, and you soon felt your legs pressed between his and yours shoulders as he decided to lean in and shut you with his own lips. The kiss was hot and heavy, broken from time to time because you the moans that crawled out of your throat. Each thrust of Jungkook’s hips became harder and deeper, which made you call out his name loudly. You felt the sensation building inside of you, slowly but surely. Clenching around him, you tried desperately to push him towards his own limit which was already visible in his hazed eyes. He was close and so were you, yet letting go still seemed out of option.

“More,” you murmured, tugging on his lock, pushing him closer and closer to the finish line. You felt him twitching harshly inside of you, first drops of precum warming your insides.

“Fuck, love, I’m so close.”

“Then cum with me,” your voice came out as a desperate cry, eyes almost tearing as you looked at him, completely lost in the view he provided you. Hot mess was nothing compared to the man towering over you, desperately chasing over the sweet release.

His hand found a way between your sweaty bodies, crawling lower until it reached your clit and gave it a few rubs which finally pushed you towards the finish line. Your body was momentarily caught in a spasm before you allowed yourself to let go, screaming and desperately digging your nails into the skin of Jungkook’s back. The second orgasm of the night felt stronger than the first one, mainly when Jungkook kept thrusting into you, still not there. And you let him. You let him overstimulate you until his body tensed and his cock twitched inside of you for the last time before the thick warm sprouts of his release coated your insides and eventually leaked out into his sheets. His body collapsed into yours and you let a whimper. The heavyweight of his relaxed body made you unable to breathe and when you tried to push him away, it didn’t work.

“Kook, baby.”

“Hmpf.”

“Jungkook.”

Nothing.

“Jeon.”

“What?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Crybaby,” he murmured and slowly pushed away while gently pulling out of you. The sudden lack of his girth made you whimper but you soon found yourself comfortable as he rolled over and pulled you closer to his arms. His chest was firm but soft at the same time, the slight scent of his musky cologne mixed with post-sex scent lingering around. He pressed a kiss to your hair and chuckled.

“What was that?” you asked, too tired to actually look at him.

“Nothing. I just didn’t imagine collecting my debt to end up like this.”

“Now you are lying.”

“No, I’m not, love,” he shook his head and spared the crown of your hair another kiss. “I wanted to ask you on a date. Well, I guess we skipped that stage. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you want to go on date with me.”

Now that was something that made you look at him with a question mark hanging above your head. The man that has just fucked the soul out of you turned into a complete sweetie asking you out for a date. How unbelievable.

“That I’d love to, Jungkook.”

Heavy sigh left his lips. It almost looked like he was relieved.

“And you know what else I want?”

“What is that, my love?”

“Drink. I want my drink, Jungkook.”

“I swear to god… You are going to be the death of me.”

[hrina]

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

    October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

      October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

      October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

      October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

      October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

[nikrangdan]

classmate!sunghoon

pairing: classmate!sunghoon x female reader

genre: fluff, comedy

description: you felt like park sunghoon was way, WAY out of your league... what happens when the teacher tells him to move seats and sit next to you?

*didnt proofread

————

becoming friends with park sunghoon was not something you expected to happen this year

throughout high school you had a small group of friends and never really stuck out

so when your teacher told sunghoon to move seats..

the seat happened to be the empty one next to..

guess who *cue the evil laugh*

YOU!!!!

your first thought was

‘this entire year is just gonna be him completely ignoring my existence or awkward interactions’

now you’ve heard of park sunghoon.... its basically a guarantee at your high school

he has this group of friends and theyre labelled as the popular kids i guess you could say

and the only reason he had to move seats in your two hour long class was because he and his friend jake goof off in class too often and your teacher deemed them “too distracting”

so eventually sunghoon was forced to move all the way across the classroom

right next to you

you were shocked to say the least

obviously he was handsome

too handsome to the point where you questioned how someone as good looking as him went to your school

he sighed and got up from his chair next to jake

but he still had a small smile remaining on his face indicating he wasnt that upset about him having to leave his friend

your heart began to beat quicker automatically as he walked towards your desk

even if you didnt have a crush on him like alot of people did, you still felt nervous around popular students like him for some reason

he ran his hand through his hair and sat down next to you, setting his bookbag on the floor next to him

he didnt look at you, nor acknowledge you

Awkward....

but nonetheless the lecture began again and the class sat in silence

taking notes on their laptops or sleeping

there were around 30 people in your class and your seat was in the middle row next to the window so you often gazed outside from the 2nd floor during class

you glanced to your right and noticed sunghoon slouched back in his seat, twirling around a pencil in his hand while his laptop remained open on his desk

it was just a white screen so he didnt take any notes

you were surpised because you knew he had fairly decent grades

you ignored your thoughts and continued taking your own notes

soon enough the bell rang and sunghoon stood up immediately and walked over to jake

‘yup’ you thought. ‘we are definitely not going to be having a single conversation this year.’

fast forward a couple days!!!!

you were sitting in class next to the boy

as normal

and you still have yet to talk to him.. mainly because you never initiated conversations ESPECIALLY when its a really really cute boy

anyways

ur teacher is like

Ok class im assigning a project and ur partner is the person sitting next to u

yay!!!!!! (can u sense the sarcasm)

welp

you sit in silence while everyone in the class starts discussing with their partners

the project is you have to make a presentation on a world issue of your choice

“um...” u start

sunghoon starts pulling out his laptop and binder

“what do you wanna do?”

he doesnt even look you

well!!!!!!

u didnt know sunghoon and his group of friends very well but u definitely thought they were more... friendly than this

its silent for like 5 seconds

“huh? oh sorry did you say something?”

“uh yeah.. i asked what you wanted to do for the project.”

“project?”

God u tried so hard not to laugh

you think he noticed because his cheeks turned a really light shade of pink

he looked so innocent

“yeah we have to make a presentation” you lightly chuckled

he was very amusing without even trying

“oh sorry haha.. i zone out easily”

“its okay.. but its due in less than 2 weeks so”

so you two spent the next hour choosing a topic and working on the project

it was kind of awkward for the first 10 minutes but then you warmed up to eachother

u were lucky that he was an extrovert too

(sunghoon is an extrovert for the sake of this story OK)

u were also lucky that he was smart

it was easy for you to talk to him.. he just felt comfortable

contrary to ur prior belief.. sunghoon was actually a really really cool guy

u used to think he was just a guy

now u think hes a really really cool guy

“can you please stop putting penguin clip art on the slides” you giggle

then he puts parrot clip art instead

“do your work!!!!” he was supposed to keep researching but he was trying to balance his pen on his nose

“shhh y/n... im doing something important.”

you roll your eyes

he was always doing something that was Not work

but you found it entertaining

and he’d make dumb little jokes that made you both hide your faces in your arms on top of the desk to hide your laughter

“hey y/n”

“what”

“what do you call an old snowman”

“i dunno.. snowgramps”

“no.. water”

you both made eye contact before bursting into laughter and then forcing yourselves to be quiet before u got in trouble

but that made everything funnier so you both were just covering your faces while trying so hard not to make a sound

this was so weird

u have never clicked with someone so fast before it honestly felt exciting

you were talking to sunghoon as if you’d been friends with him since birth

Very Very weird because you had only talked to him an hour ago and now u two are acting like besties ?!?!

jake noticed from across the room too

hes like ‘Why is sunghoon having fun without me🙄🙄’

the bell rings and so far you only have 2 slides

“we didnt get anything done” you note as you pack your bag

“yeah yeah i know. we can work on it more tomorrow”

“right.. see you tomorrow” you’re about to head out until jake walks up

“hey bro” he and sunghoon do some kind of made up handshake before he turns to look at you

now you know jake

everyone knows jake

you used to think he was the sweetest out of all their friend group

and he definitely lives up to that!!!

“hey y/n!” he gives u a smile

AWE hes so adorable

“hi” u reply

you were trying to speed up this conversation though so you could go eat lunch with your friend

“hows the project going?” he asks

“bad. sunghoon doesnt know how to do anything.” you deadpanned jokingly

sunghoon looks at you with an offended look that makes you wanna snort

“hey! you’re the one who doesn’t know how to add text to the slide!”

“what the hell sunghoon?! don’t tell him that, it’s embarrassing!” you give him a dirty look before walking out the classroom door with a smile on your face

days passed and you and sunghoon would only speak during that class but whenever you did it would be a mess

“sunghoon, y/n, quiet down! there is no reason for my classroom to be this loud!” your teacher scolds you two after sunghoon slapped his desk after you accidentally snorted

u two had such a weird relationship

u were almost strangers outside this one class but besties when u were in it

jake noticed too

one time he asked sunghoon during lunch why ur relationship was what it was

“i dont know.. thats just how we are” he answered

but jake kind of suspected sunghoon had a crush on u

*wiggles eyebrows*

it had only been a week but jake was determined to set u up together

“y/n you look cold, heres sunghoons jacket!”

“y/n sunghoon needs help with his homework, can you maybe do something about that..”

“sunghoon, y/n looks sad go give her a hug”

needless to say it worked!!!!

because a week after you presented your 2 weeks worth project

sunghoon asked u on a date

YUPPPPPP

let me recite how it went

u were walking out of class together because jake wasnt there that day

sunghoons bookbag was slung over one shoulder and u were stood next to him with both hands on ur straps

“hey.. do u wanna maybe go grab something to eat with me for dinner..? or something” he quickly asked

“what, like a date?” you joke

“uh.. yeah” he replied looking down at u

u stop in your tracks

WHA

No way

“wait what? seriously?” you look up at him with wide eyes

“yes u little munchkin” he pinches your cheeks exaggeratedly and pulls them to make your face sway everywhere

u swat them off so fast

“um.. okay” u answer and ur face heats up

you cant even look him in the eye

like u cant say u DIDNT see this coming but it was still a shock

“awe is y/n blushing” he teases

“go away stupid”

yeah he doesnt go away

ANYWAYS u are the cutest couple ever

everyone wants to be u two so bad!

couple goals literally

jake is so proud of himself honestly

whenever u get into a silly little argument his rebuttal is always

“remind me who got u the best boyfriend ever? thats right, me. dont try me y/n”

and ur like

“ooohhh jakey im so scareddd”

he cannot stand u

but Yeah sunghoon bestest bf ever

takes u on dates whenever u want to

makes u laugh very much

almost too much

and ur parents LOVE him

mhm sunghoon very awesome guy

[retrievablememories]

jealous of the way | baekhyun (m)

title: jealous of the way pairing: baekhyun x black!reader genre: smut, some angst request: “Could you write a honeymoon imagine where Baekhyun and his wife(black) go to Seychelles for their honeymoon and she runs into an old high school friend and Baekhyun gets jealous. They get into a fight but then they make up and make love? Thank you!” word count: 3.3k warnings: cursing, jealous behavior, arguing, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie a/n: i made the guy friend corny on purpose, but whew typing some of those lines bout killed me! the title is only part of a larger sentence so it might sound a bit odd but yeah lol

“Aren’t you glad we came here?” you ask, giggling as you put sunscreen on Baekhyun. You’re both sitting on a beach towel on the sand, the sun’s rays spilling across your backs brightly. Unfortunately for Baekhyun, he’s a little more prone to sunburning, so you make sure to cover every inch of his skin so he won’t come back to your room later looking like a red lobster.

“Of course, but shouldn’t I be asking you that? This is like your hometown.” Baekhyun laughs.

“It does feel nice to be back after so long.” As a child, you’d grown up in Seychelles before leaving as a teenager to live in the U.S.

Having military parents meant growing up in a lot of different places as an adolescent, and you often disliked having to leave your newfound friends behind—though you did like the aspect of traveling itself. Your carefully nurtured love for different cultures and new sights was how you ended up in South Korea in the first place, and subsequently meeting Baekhyun, which is one thing you’re infinitely grateful for.

After you’re both adequately covered in sunscreen, you go to play in the ocean for a while, splashing in the endlessly blue water.

As you’re both running through the waves, you’re surprised to see a group of men and a few women approaching your spot on the beach—not because of their presence, but because one of the guys is waving to you in a familiar way.

“Y/N!” The man calls out to you, and you’re even more confused for a moment about how he knows your name—Baekhyun has an equally puzzled look on his face—until the man splits from the group and jogs over to you.

“Wait, Ray? Is that you?” Your eyes widen as the memories come flooding back all at once. He was one of your high school friends who you were practically glued to the hip with when you were growing up in Seychelles. You’d both promised to stay in touch with each other after you left, though things don’t always work out how we intend.

“Yes!!” he responds excitedly, kicking up sand as he rushes towards you. He doesn’t come to a complete stop, though, and in a move you don’t expect, he picks you clear off the ground and throws you over his shoulder, spinning you around. Flustered, you scream and Baekhyun shouts in turn, thinking maybe you’re being attacked by some stalker.

Ray is a little slow on the uptake but eventually realizes both you and Baekhyun are freaking out about him picking you up like that, so he sets you back down. “Sorry, I just got excited; I haven’t seen you in years!”

You adjust the headwrap you used to tie your hair up, making sure it’s not going to come off in the middle of the beach. “You look so different Ray, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“I know right?” Ray flexes his muscles for emphasis, and you give him something between a grin and an embarrassed look while Baekhyun stares, unmoved. “Is this little dude your friend? Nice to meet you!”

“Friend? If there’s anyone in the friendzone here, it’s not me—”

“Actually, this is my husband, Baekhyun,” you say, trying to speak up before Baekhyun completely goes off.

Ray looks between the two of you for a few moments, grinning widely—and then when you don’t say anything else, his smile melts into an incredulous look. “Oh, you’re serious—oh!” He sees the ring on your finger when you hold your hand up, and his forehead creases. Now he looks somewhat embarrassed. “Ah, that’s—different.”

“What’s different about it?” Baekhyun is openly annoyed now, and you can’t blame him for it.

“Oh, no offense! I just remember Y/N being into a very different type when we were in high school…” Ray says, raising his eyebrows. “You’re cute together, though. It’s a nice change for you, Y/N, gotta love the Asian Persuasion.”

“Okay, Ray.” You frown and wave your hand at him. “No need to bring that up, that’s old shit. If you only came over here to throw tired shade, you can go back where you came from. Seriously.”

“Nah, I’m just messing, Y/N. It’s all love,” Ray says, snickering a bit. “You know we always used to do that in school. What brings you back to Seychelles, anyway? Are you settin’ up shop here?”

“No, it’s our honeymoon.” You and Baekhyun begin inching away, though you don’t think the other man even notices. You feel like Ray’s overstayed his welcome at this point, even though he’s trying to stretch out the conversation, but he doesn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon even as his group of friends begins a game of volleyball nearby. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed, as his looks aren’t the only thing that’s changed; his personality is much different from the boy you remembered going to classes with everyday.

“Just married, huh? Nice. Hey loverboy, you wouldn’t mind if me and Y/N kept in touch, would you?” Ray directs this to Baekhyun. “I haven’t seen my girl in such a long time, promise it’s nothing more than that.”

Baekhyun gives him a tight-lipped smile that’s more derision than sincerity. “Believe me, there’s nothing to worry about on my end.” He stalks back to your little spot on the beach before Ray can come up with another response.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you ask.

“What do you mean?”

“Really? My girl? We haven’t even talked in years and you think I’m gonna be receptive to that, especially saying it in front of my husband…?”

“Okay, okay, shit, I wouldn’t have said that if I knew you’d feel a way about it, but you know that’s how we used to joke with each other’s partners, remember?”

“It’s not high school anymore, dumbass. And I wasn’t even going to bring this up, but need I remind you that you fell out of touch with me? I tried, but you seemed completely preoccupied with your new friends only a year after I left Seychelles.”

Ray looks offended at you bringing this up, but he tries to argue his case. “So now we’re going to argue about specifics? I was pretty sure that we both—”

“Ray! Are you joining or not?” One of the girls from the group calls his name, looking at him expectantly. “We’re already on the second game.”

He glances back to the girl irritatedly, and you decide to make your leave. “You know what—enjoy your day, Ray. I don’t think we need to talk about anything else.”

“Y/N! Come on, really? Look, I’ll search you up on Facebook or something, okay?” You ignore his words, though, and when he sees he won’t get a response, he shakes his head and goes back to join his group.

“I’m really sorry Baek, I didn’t know he was going to say all those things…” you say tentatively after walking back to your husband. You sit in front of him on the beach towel and grab his hands, but he’s not very open to your touch. He merely nods in acknowledgment of your apology, though he doesn’t say anything for a few moments.

“Hmm...dunno ‘bout you, but I’m ready to go back to the hotel.” It comes out casually, but you know him well enough to see that he’s tense. 

You look at him, disheartened. “Already? But it’s still early in the afternoon.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, and your eyebrows crease even further. “Do you really want to stay here any longer while this dude is still around?” He nods his head in the direction of the group. When you glance back, Ray catches you looking in their direction and throws you a look that’s more on the side of mockingly amused than friendly.

“It’s a whole beach out here, they can just stay over here and we can go somewhere else,” you insist, not wanting to let this upset your entire day.

“Y/N, can we just go?” His tone is impatient, which sets you on edge too.

Baekhyun is a little quiet on the way back to the resort, which makes you unsure how to feel. Distressed? Nervous? Sad? He has a right to be upset about the things Ray said, but you don’t know why it’s being directed towards you. 

Things aren’t much better once you get back in the room. “Okay, well, the beach didn’t work out...what do you want to do now?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Um, what?”

“I said, nothing.”

You put your hands on your hips, staring him down. “Now what’s the attitude for?”

“Don’t know. Maybe you should ask Ray.”

“Baekhyun, what are you even talking about? I just had to put Ray in check but somehow you think I’m on his side or some shit? What the fuck?”

Baekhyun shakes his head and turns away as if he’s already done with the argument—the one he’s just ignited. “You barely said anything about him picking you up like he’s some kind of long-lost boyfriend, so I have to wonder.”

“Uhh, isn’t that your job?! You’re the husband here!”

“Clearly, but I didn’t realize I had quite this much competition for you.”

“How can you be this petty? You aren’t about to sit up here and ruin the vibe over some ridiculous shit like this.”

“You’re right, I’m not.” Baekhyun heads for the door, and your eyes widen.

“Are you serious? You better not—”

Baekhyun doesn’t heed your words, though, and is out of the door before you can finish your sentence. You want to go after him, but you think you might try to wring his neck if you do, so you instead sit heavily on the bed, fuming on the inside.

You almost can’t believe you’ve been ditched during your own honeymoon, but well, here you are. Trying to find something to watch on this stupid big screen TV and eating some chocolate dessert you ordered from room service. You’d probably cry if you weren’t so furious, and you aren’t sure what you’re going to say or do when Baekhyun comes back to the room. You’ve spent the evening cooking up scenarios in your head, and you can’t wait to unleash one of them on him once he gets back—if you could only settle on one that could appropriately convey your anger.

You don’t have to think about it for much longer. Just as you’ve settled on a movie to distract yourself with, Baekhyun finally comes striding back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He flicks the overhead light on to reveal you curled up on the bed, still in your bathrobe from your shower, and you spring up from your position on the mattress, bristling.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Turn the fucking light back off, you might’ve ruined our time earlier but I’m not letting you ruin this—”

Baekhyun dives for the remote before you can and switches the movie off, which only works you up more. You try to swipe it back from him but he throws it to the floor and it bounces off somewhere out of your line of sight.

“Have you lost your fucking—” You start to climb off the bed to where he stands by the edge of it, ready to start round two of your argument, but he meets you halfway and angles you back towards the mattress with his whole body—his hands grasping your wrists, his form crowding you in, his lips pressing against yours.

You pause for a few moments to try to understand what’s going on. You and Baekhyun end up falling back on the bed, and you let him kiss you for a few moments before separating from him and pushing him back to the bed so you can climb on top of him, regaining some leverage. “What are you doing?” you snap.

Baekhyun’s hands run up your thighs, pushing your bathrobe up your brown skin as they go. “I was wrong,” he says a bit timidly, “for taking my anger out on you.”

“You think?” you reply, watching as his fingers disappear underneath the white fabric. His fingers meet the cleft of your abdomen and inner thigh; you hadn’t bothered to put on any underwear after getting out of the shower, though you are sure he’s already well aware of that. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you right now, by the way. You acted an ass on our honeymoon, for God’s sake. We only get one of these.”

His fingers dip lower still, towards your center, pressing in between your lower lips and rubbing against your clit. You shift on top of his body, already feeling the effects of him touching you though you aren’t ready to stop being mad yet.

“I know,” Baekhyun agrees, his voice still low, though much less sheepish once he sees how he’s affecting you. He keeps the pads of his fingers on your clit, slowly circling it and staring up at you like he’s thinking about a secret. You know this playful gaze of his well, and it makes you want to crumble. It makes you even madder still that he can get to you this easily. 

But you married him for a reason, after all.

Eventually, he nudges his fingers lower until he’s pressing two of them into you at once. The stretch is pleasant and makes the first moan fall from your lips. At that, Baekhyun becomes eager, sitting up so quickly that you almost lose your balance. He wraps his arm around you, though, and holds your hips against his hand as he makes you ride his digits. 

You didn’t expect him to be this intense just after getting inside you, and the fast pace of his fingers has you careening up to a sudden high you weren’t anticipating.

“Gonna come for me?” he whispers this against your collarbone, mouthing at the skin where your bathrobe has fallen away. He angles his hand so he can grind his palm more fully against your clit, and you shudder at this change in friction. It’s enough to bring you to a quick end, dripping in his lap—he is still annoyingly fully clothed—and holding onto his shirt for stability as you keep grinding your hips against his hand, drawing out the sensation as long as you can.

When you’re satiated, you slump against him, though he isn’t done yet. Baekhyun moves you off his lap so you’re lying on the bed and peels your bathrobe away like he’s unwrapping a treat, running his hands over your body, teasing your hardening nipples, tickling your abdomen and making you laugh and squirm. 

He leans closer and retraces all those areas with his mouth, his lips and tongue mapping out a wet chart on your body, all the way down to the junction of your thighs. Then, he buries his face into you and accepts all your previous pleasure onto his tongue.

“Baekhyun…” you whimper quietly as he licks you out and keeps his hands on your body so he can caress your breasts the entire time. The tongue rippling on your clit and the fingers toying with your nipples make it hard to think, hard to feel anything but this particular moment, and your legs stretch out and tense up as another orgasm builds below your belly button, stronger than the first.

Baekhyun pushes his tongue into you to taste you from the inside, making you feel strangely full but not quite full enough, then pulls it out again just to drag it over your clit. This time your body arches when you come, trying to get as close to his touch as possible while your mind blisses itself out. 

He doesn’t stop there, though, and you grip his hair steadily as he rides you into yet another orgasm with his mouth alone. When the last of your tremors fade, he finally departs from your lower half and climbs up the bed so he can be at eye-level with you, kissing you once more.

“I won’t ask you if you forgive me now, but…”

You roll your eyes, sighing as you try to frown against the smile tugging onto your lips. “Just get undressed.”

He heeds your words without complaint or hesitation, and soon he’s pressed against your damp skin and pressing inside your entrance, which is wet and more than willing to take him in by now. You both moan once you’re fully joined together. Baekhyun holds the back of your head as he begins thrusting into you, his fingers slipping into the fabric of your scarf, as if he just has to have every part of him on every part of you possible.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs and shudders and half-moans at a particularly deep thrust, and you are almost too preoccupied with him driving his length into your g-spot for you to wonder about why he’s apologizing. “About, you know…”

“You can show me you’re sorry by doing that again,” you say quietly, pulling his hips further into yours and moaning when he pushes into that spot again, “and making it up to me the rest of this week.”

“I can do that, baby,” he pants, lowering his mouth to your neck. He busies himself with teasing the skin there with his teeth, and he keeps thrusting into you, holding your hip tightly with his free hand. “Just remember I’m the only one who can get you this wet.”

“Ugh, Baekhyun…” you groan, because his words make your skin heat up and because of the pleasure he has you feeling. Your orgasm is building for the fourth time now, and you grip onto his shoulders more tightly as it does. Your legs slide around his waist, trying to get him as deep as he can go.

“Y/N…” His lips push against your skin as he mumbles your name repeatedly, gripping your body more tightly against his own as he ruts into you and pushes you both further toward that final end.

It comes a bit unexpectedly on his end, a heavy moan bursting from his lips as his strokes falter and his cum floods your insides, splashing deep. Even through his stuttering thrusts, he slips his hand from your hip and rubs his fingers against your clit again, stroking the small nub with a firm enough touch to have you coming fast around him.

You both hold onto each other with grasps hard enough to bruise as you come down from your orgasms, bodies and minds unwinding from the earlier tension.

“Damn,” Baekhyun murmurs.

“Y-yeah,” you agree, trying to catch your breath. He pulls out of you to lie beside you on the soft bed, your legs still tangled together.

“I guess that’s the beginning of my apology tour, huh?” He laughs beside you, air whistling through his nose as he plants a warm hand just beneath your ribcage, feeling your smooth skin against his.

You smirk and turn your head towards him, reaching up to fix your headwrap that has well and good come loose by now. “If the rest of it is like that, I think you’ll be just fine.”

[lupismaris]

Summertime, And The Livin’s Easy- a black sails fic prompt fill

this became incredibly long so instead of just posting it with the ask i’ve made it’s own post 

@themelonface​ asks- For the fic prompts (if you're still taking them), silverflint talking about children. Can be AU, can be set during or after canon. I just have a feeling Miranda never wanted any, Thomas was too wrapped up in the fight for equality to need anything more than cats, but maybe James would have wanted kids in another life.

HERE MY DARLING HAVE THE FIRST OF hopefully TWO PROMPT FILLS because i want to write a post canon ficlet for this ask as well. 

but for now have modern au silverflint (and hamilton at the end) and the discussion of children 💕

cw for mentions of child abuse and shitastic fathers!!! but theres nothing graphic mentioned or shown. 

***

It was the hazy space between what would have been brunch on a weekend and the corporate lunch time rush and the start of cocktail hour on every other day when half the bars in Brooklyn Heights hadn’t actually opened their doors yet and those that had were serving sandwiches and day drinking friendly cocktails.

 The Walrus was one of the latter.

Silver slid off his bar stool as the last member of the aforementioned lunch rush stepped out the door and leaned against the polished bar top with a bright grin. “How you holding up, honey?” Muldoon rolled his eyes. “Please, a corpse could make an aperol spritz.” “I doubt a corpse could make that many of them that quickly.” “Flattery might work on other men,” Muldoon said, as he always did, with a wag of his tattooed finger and a smile fighting to show on his face. “But it will not work on me.” “Are you sure? Cause you were pretty sexy with those martinis. Remind me why its always vodka?” “Your boyfriend has told you that a dozen times already, I know it for a fact, you shit.” “Okay but maybe I wanna hear you explain it. Again,” Silver said, propping his chin on his hands and putting on his best Cheshire smile, throwing in a slight batting of the lashes just for Muldoon’s sake. They played this game every time Silver wasted away a few hours at the bar, which he was starting to do more and more often. He’d joke with Flint that it was only out of boredom, but in truth, he felt safe there, nestled in the corner with his laptop or acting as an honorary member of the staff when they needed some help. He didn’t want to dwell too much on it, on why he felt so safe there or why after so many years he was once again feeling so painfully devoted to the same group of men who’d despite everything, seen him through hell. Muldoon sighed, his hands making quick work of filling the high powered steam dishwasher under the counter. He pushed it closed with his hip and looked up at Silver, finally cracking a smile. “Do you want to help me run bar for a bit, love? While it’s quiet?”

Silver was behind the bar before Muldoon could even consider changing his mind. He did pause to duck into the kitchen quickly, where the two line cooks- Randal and Dooley- were working on their mise en place and Vane was wedged into the alley doorway with a cigarette in his mouth, recovering from the lunch rush. His long hair was carefully tied up in a braided bun and covered in a bandanna, ears lined as always with half a dozen hoops a piece. “Why do you look like you just ate a canary?” Vane asked around his smoke. “No reason. Where’s the Captain?” Vane nodded to the walk in pantry where Flint was likely checking stock counts, “he’s in a mood again.” “When isn’t he? When he’s done tell him to come up to the bar I’ve got a surprise,” Silver said, still wearing that grin, and Vane laughed with a nod, going back to watching the alley behind the bar. “Alright come on you flirt-” Muldoon called, and Silver quickly washed his hands and snagged one of the spare aprons Hal kept behind the bar. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to make a cocktail, he played bartender for house parties all the time. But there was something different about learning to do it properly, from Muldoon who clearly took great pride in it, and in a place that was quickly becoming a second home to him. An hour in, and several successful cocktails later, Muldoon allowed Silver to help him actually fill orders for the few customers they got, though it wasn’t many. Flint still had not resurfaced from the kitchen, and so Silver kept his focus on the recipes Muldoon had him run through- proper martinis and Manhattans, Mojitos and mules, mezcal margs and all the things you could do with the collection of Amaros and aperitifs behind the bar. The customers were students on their way home from morning classes, morning shifters heading home or stopping for some food before the evening shift at their second job started, regulars who stopped in for lunch because no one made a cuban quite as well as their kitchen did.   And then the door chimed and Silver looked up with his customary smile and greeting ready, waiting to see where the guests might seat themselves- the host wouldn’t be in till four when the official dinner service started- and found himself staring at, well, children. Six of them, all too young to be in a bar unsupervised even before happy hour but probably even too young to be wandering around Brooklyn by themselves as it was. The older two definitely had the hardened older sibling with “semi absent if not entirely absent parents” look around them, Silver knew that look far too well, though whether the four younger kids were siblings or just under their care he couldn’t be sure. All of them were wearing some variation of public school uniform which Silver recognized from the public school a few blocks away. “Hey Nicki,” Muldoon said with a wave, and one of the older kids with short messy dark hair and equally dark eyes waved back. Silver looked at Muldoon quickly with raised brows. “Do me a favor go find Flint, okay? Tell him the kids are up front.” Silver just nodded, watching as Nicki and the other older kid shepherded the younger kids into the big corner booth closest to the bar without being told to, and slipped into the kitchen. Vane was at the prep table, knife in hand and making quick work of a cut of meat. He didn’t look up when he heard the door swing open but tilted his head expectantly. “Flint?” Sliver asked. “Smoke break, should be about done. Said he was coming up to see you in a minute.” Silver threw open the back alley door and there was Flint, propped up against the wall with a beaten up paperback on his knee and a forgotten cigarette in his hand. He looked up at him with a frown. “Hey whats wrong? You set the bar on fire with a flaming mojito or something?” he said, wearing a rare teasing smile. “Not yet but theres like, half a kindergarten class upfront.” Flint blinked, looked at his watch, and swore, “shit they must’ve let out early cause of the heat.” “Darling, what in the hell are you talking about.” Flint stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it in the ashtray by the door, kissing the top of Silver’s head as he passed. “I’ll explain in a minute- Vane! Leave the dinner service I need you on the meal kits with me-” “Already started on them,” Vane said, waving the knife idly as he portioned the meat into rather exact ready to cook portions. Flint nodded and washed his hands. “Dooley wheres those sandwiches I told you to fix-” “Here boss.” “Silver,” Flint loaded up six plates of sandwiches onto two serving trays and passed the lighter of the two to Silver. “Take one of these out with me ‘kay?” Silver nodded and balanced the tray on his shoulder, following Flint out of the kitchen. The bar was still mostly empty, Muldoon hanging out at the corner of the bar closest to the kids, making them each a Shirley Temple and passing Nicki a pitcher of water for them to share. Normally, Silver would’ve made some smart ass remark about how apparently it was normally for a bunch of kids to just turn up at the bar for lunch but something about this felt different and something in the set of Flint’s shoulders told him to stay quiet. “Let me guess the AirCon crap out again?” Flint asked upon reaching the table. “Or did one of you sabotage it to get out early?” The younger kids all started talking at once, bursts of loud excitement at seeing Flint, and the food, all wanting to explain why they had been let out of school a little bit early that day. Nicki and the other older kid, Sola, helped distribute the plates of food with smiles and nods of thanks while Flint listened intently to the kids’ rambling and incoherent explanations.   Once the young-ins were distracted by the sandwiches, Nicki offered a more coherent explanation. “Yeah they said the AC’s gonna be out till tomorrow with the heat, so they’re closing school till Monday,” he said. “Three day weekend I guess, without the extra homework since the teachers didn’t have time to prepare for any.” “Nice. Gonna meet your friends at the bridge park tomorrow? You mentioned wanting to get your kick flips more polished.” Nicki shook his head, looking bitter about it. “Can’t, busted up my front bearings and wheels on a ride home last week, won’t be able to afford to fix it for a bit. S’fine though, got chores to do.” Flint nodded, leaning back against the bar with his arms lazily crossed over his middle. “Do me a solid and bring the board by tomorrow okay? I think one of my guys might have some spare parts they’re not using.” Silver felt something in him break a little at the way the boy’s face lit up at Flint’s words. Or maybe it was at the ease with which Flint handled the kids, the openness he showed them, listening to how their days had gone, if only in brief, listening to their problems, which to them seemed world ending- Sola’s internet was out for the weekend, so she’d be at the library doing homework on Friday and probably most of the weekend when she wasn’t helping at her aunt’s salon, the little ones would all be shuttled to various relatives until Monday until they went back to school and Sola and Nicki, or another of the older kids in their building would take charge of them again. One of the younger kids was staring at Silver, her sandwich half held to her mouth. Just staring, bright brown eyes fixed on him in that quizzical way that children possessed that always made Silver feel transparent. Flint noticed and followed her gaze with an amused grin, waving for Silver to come over to join them instead of hiding behind the bar with Muldoon.  Silver looked at him wide eyed for a moment, then at the kids, specifically the little girl who was staring him down like a gunslinger, and then back at Flint, who just reached for him. Damn the bastard, he knew that was all it ever took. Silver came over and let Flint pull him in under his arm, feeling like a bug under the microscope in a science class he never attended but had heard about from other people. “You have pretty hair,” the little girl said. She was missing her two front teeth and Silver wanted to melt. “Thank you. You have big eyes.” “Yeah. They see a lot,” She said nodding solemnly. Silver could feel Flint shifting with the effort it took not to laugh. “They’re a pretty color. They remind me of this stone called tiger’s eye,” Silver continued. He could see Nicki giving Flint a look, though he didn’t know what Flint was doing in response. The little girl tilted her head. “Whats that?” So Silver pulled out his phone and showed her, which lead to a short lesson in gemstones that mostly amounted to excited cries of “oh shiny” and “I’d steal that one” which did Silver’s heart good. “This is Silver, a friend of mine who just moved back to town. He’s helping out round here. So he and I are gonna go fix your take away bags,” Flint said, once the momentary fascination in gemstones had faded and the kids were once again fixed on their plates. “Sola, you and Nicki just let Muldoon know if you guys need anything, or stick your head in the kitchen and yell okay? We’ll hear you. C’mon Silver.” If Silver had hoped for an explanation, he didn’t get one. Once he and Flint crossed the threshold back into the kitchen there was work to be done- Randal and Dooley handled the orders brought to them from the waitstaff while Flint and Vane, with Silver doing whatever Flint told him to, made quick work of assembling meal kit after meal kit from dishes both on and off the bar’s menu. Everything was boxed up and taped shut, paired with pre-typed instructions on how to cook the meals and how many servings each would make, and tucked into sturdy double layered brown bags that would hopefully survive a trip across the neighborhood. As they were finishing twenty minutes later, Hal’s voice could be heard through the window behind the bar, which answered Silver’s most pressing question- did he know that Flint was just running a school cafeteria out of the bar? Apparently yes, and apparently the kids were just as excited, if not more so, to see “Uncle” Hal. Because of course they called him Uncle Hal, why wouldn’t they. God, Silver was going to have to book a fucking dentist appointment for all the tooth rot the sweetness of this was giving him. He helped Flint carry out the bags of food, Vane insisting the kids would be too scared of him while Flint argued that Vane was just scared of the kids, and Silver watched as Hal and Flint got the bags labeled for each child and into a push cart that Sola promised to bring back the next day when she passed on her way to her Aunt’s salon. He then did his very best not to pass away on the spot as each kid, even Nicki and Sola, hugged Hal goodbye. Flint had crouched down to say good by to the little ones, accepting their clumsy hugs, reminding them to be careful walking home, and asking them to recite the bar’s phone number for him just in case (though Silver was sure they probably had cellphones, even if they were elementary schoolers), before he stood and gave Nicki and Sola each a one armed hug and watched them shepherd the group outside again. “Only group today?” Hal asked and Silver thought his voice sounded a bit heavy. “So far. Powers out at their school though, likely a couple others’ll come by later. Want me to call around to the other bars and see if they’ve heard anything?” “Yeah call the food bank and the closest shelter too for me, see if we can’t drop off our end of night supply to them this weekend.” Later, several more hours of food prep and three more groups of wary looking kids who all seemed completely unafraid of Flint and his crew, plus a Thursday night dinner rush, and Silver finally got his explanation. He also thought he should have gotten the nobel prize for being able to keep his mouth shut for as long as he did. “So are we gonna talk about it?” Flint was sitting on the floor in front of him, half asleep already between his thighs, as Silver combed his hair. They had taken home food from the bar and shared a six pack between them on the deck, Thomas held up at a Client dinner where he was no doubt being wined and dined and bored to absolute tears. They had treated themselves then to a hot bath, with the jets, and were now just wasting time with the kind of nonsexual intimacy that Silver had learned he craved with Flint, waiting for Thomas to join them so they could all manage a good nights sleep. “Talk about what?” Flint asked, his voice a heady rumble. “The kids. And why they knew to just wander into a bar on a Thursday,” Silver said, keeping his voice gentle. He coated his hands in more product and worked it into the shaved sides and back of Flint’s head, massaging his scalp as he went. “Why you and Hal and the rest of the crew seemed completely unphased by it.” Flint hummed lowly, nearly a purr as he leaned into Silver’s touch. They’d settled into the bedroom Thomas and Flint shared, like they did most nights since it had the nicest adjoining bathroom and all the obnoxiously nice hair and skin care products. Silver sat in the old plush armchair, bundled up in a robe while Flint, naked and content to air dry, leaned into him, a picture of ginger hair, rich freckles, and well loved tattoos on a soft strong figure. If Silver hadn’t been so distracted by the day, he’d have been more appreciative. “S’not that big a deal. Lots of families round here with young kids, can’t keep an eye on them between working two or three jobs, haven’t got money for babysitters or relatives to watch ‘em, or enough to cover food for the week, especially when the public schools can’t feed em. You start to notice which kids it is, when they pass by, which schools they go to, which blocks.” “In Brooklyn Heights?” “They don’t live in this neighborhood, Silver, you know that, not all of Brooklyn has been gentrified to shit by the developers. Hell walk a few blocks east towards the tech school and you’ll find a lot of them. Or south towards Bayridge. Anyway, the groups you met today are all right from Downtown Brooklyn, they go to school nearby you’ve seen them.” “Yeah I just… I dunno, you see so much of the multi-million dollar condos I guess you forget thats not all theres is.” “Nicki lives with his mom, his dad walked out and she’s working two jobs to keep the one bedroom they share over on Jay street. He’s only thirteen but he tried getting a job with me washing dishes last summer, I turned him down, sent him home with some food for his trouble,” Flint continued. Silver smiled, he could picture the scrappy dark haired boy trying to square up with Flint, trying to convince him he was old enough to legally work. “Let me guess he wasn’t the first.” “Won’t be the last either. If they aren’t working for the family to earn some extra money or to cut back on hiring expenses they’re looking for shifts somewhere to pick up the slack. They’re losing out on being kids all because the rent keeps going up and there ain’t shit else to do about it other than leave. And a lot of them can’t even afford to do that.” There was a familiar grit to Flint’s voice, the old bitter salt that meant someone had touched a nerve. It scared other people, but Silver knew it just meant Flint was, for the moment, being vulnerable with him. “Were you Nicki once? Trying to bully your way into work?” Silver asked softly. He reached for the comb again and sectioned off a part of Flint’s hair to start working with. Flint was quiet a moment. “Yeah. Yeah worked the docks a bit as a boy, most kids did it to earn pocket money or to help out with the bills.” “Which was it for you?” “Granddad only had his pension. And he spent that on booze. So whatever I earned at the docks helping the fishermen, or from pickpocketing, that was what bought food. Kept the lights on, shit like that. I told you once, that I met Henessy that way, picking his pocket.” Silver laughed softly. “I do remember. You technically succeeded, didn’t you?” “Mm, he only caught me cause someone snitched. Broke that fuckers nose real good I’ll tell you.” They were quiet for a moment, Silver combing Flint’s hair with impossible care, working his fingers through any knots he found, before following with product and conditioner, Flint grew heavier and heavier against him, warm and soft and his. “So you and Hal decided to do something, the way you always do?” Silver asked. “Hm? Oh yeah- city isn’t doin’ much, food banks and schools are already over run, and when school holidays hit, they can barely keep up demand for kids who need free meals. So we got a few other bars involved, met with some schools and the food banks and sent out some notices and just- started feeding people. I mean thats why Hal wanted to open the bar you know? You feed people and you give them everything. You feed them and they’ll do the rest. So thats what we did. In a week or two when the schools are out for the summer we’ll have a couple trucks that’ll make deliveries, so the kids don’t have to come to the bar.” Silver hummed and kissed his temple. “You’re sweet.” “Am not.” “You’ll let me help, right? Prep the meals and stuff?” Flint tipped his head back to look up at him. “You want to?” “Yeah. This altruistic thing is new to me, as is the cooking for fun thing but… it matters, to you, any idiot can see that. And I want to be part of it.” Silver smiled and leaned down to kiss him best he could. He could feel Flint smiling into the upside down kiss. “You’re really good with them too, you know, which please don’t take this the wrong way, I did not expect,” he added when he pulled back. “What with the kids?” “Yeah.” “Oh no offense taken I have no idea how it happened. They just aren’t afraid of me for some reason. I fully expected them to be, mind. I used to think I had the kind of face that would make babies and small children cry but apparently they just, I dunno, think I’m alright.” “They trust you, thats a big deal for kids. Especially ones who have clearly been let down by other adults. I mean you also talk to them like they’re just tiny adults which probably helps.” “They’re gonna be adults one day, might as well treat them with dignity well before they realize they should be fighting for it, you know?” Silver smiled softly, “Sometimes I don’t think you realize how magnificent you are, you bastard.” Flint didn’t say anything, just blindly reached for Sliver’s hands so he could pull him closer. So silver set aside the comb and rested his chin on the top of Flint’s head, wrapping his arms around him and holding tight to his weathered, tattooed hands. “You were good with them too, once you stopped being scared of them,” Flint offered. “Kids scare me, I’ve never spent enough time around them to learn how to make them happy. They’re so easy to hurt, so easy to damage. And extremely durable, extremely resilient but… I dunno… Just never trusted myself and never had the opportunity to do more than amuse them for a few minutes at a time before vanishing into thin air like Santa Claus.” “Well, you’ll have plenty of practice at the bar. I still think you were good with them. Little Sylvie likes you at least.” “Not as much as they love you.” Silver thought a moment. “Hey…” “Hm?” “Have… Have you and Thomas ever talked about kids?” It was a heavy question, one that might have been too much too soon and a part of Silver wished he hadn’t asked it. But there had been such a softness in Flint’s face when he’d spoken to the children, a kindness and a focus in his attention that meant he’d put time and effort into his actions, into making sure what he was doing was what the kids needed in that moment. It wasn’t just an adult slumming it with the neighborhood kids cause he had nothing better to do, it was almost, dare Silver think it, Paternal in nature. Paternal and the dread Captain Flint being used in the same sentence had not been something Silver had ever considered as possible, and yet- And yet it was, and it had piqued the old curiosity. Flint was quiet again, though he didn’t pull away or let go of Silvers hands, so Silver trusted that he hadn’t upset him. Silver held him tightly, turning his head to rest his cheek on Flint’s hair and wait patiently for him to speak. “Its complicated, pup.” “You don’t have to tell me. I was just curious. I never thought of you as a dad until today but now I’m… I won’t lie a part of me is still thinking about it.” There was a soft shuddering sound and Silver felt Flint shift in his arms, curling tighter in on himself for a moment before trying to settle again. Silver held tight, pressing his face into his hair. It took another moment or two, and several deep breaths, but Flint eventually spoke. “Thomas and Miranda were expected to have children when they married,” he said lowly, “all wealthy families expect heirs. But Miranda didn’t want to go through pregnancy and Thomas wasn’t sure if he could sire so they found ways of putting it off and focusing on Thomas’ political career. Thomas… he wanted to save the world, I’m sure for a while he thought he couldn’t allow himself thoughts of a future until that was done.” Silver hummed. That did sound like Thomas. Even now, with the chip on his shoulder and the somewhat colder view of the world, he still seemed to think he could save it. Silver wasn’t about to point out that Flint still seemed to think the same way. “And after everything I dunno I guess it just took so much time to remember how to be living, breathing people again, that children were never part of the consideration,” Flint said with a shrug. There was a weight to his voice, an emptiness that had Silver frowning slightly in surprise. “How can you care for a child when you’ve only just come back to life? When you’ve only just found reason to stay alive? It- Any child we brought into our lives would have been at risk, back then for certain, though I’m not sure a child would be better off now and besides with how much we work its not like-” “James,” Silver said softly, lifting his head, “you’re rambling.” Flint went still in his arms, still as if waiting for the lash that he knew would never come, but waited for all the same. The readiness with which Flint expected violence broke something in Silver, just as much as it felt like a mirror, smudged and smoky and cracked with age. “Is this your way of saying you want to be a father, but the thought of it terrifies you?” Silver asked. “The things I’ve done,” Flint said in a rough voice, “The stains my hands have carried- I’d see them every time I held my child. That’s my fear, I think. That I’d see them, and that violence would stain them as well.” He paused. Silver held him, hiding his own face. It was easier, they had learned, to talk about such things like this, with Flint’s back to Silver, their faces just hidden enough to give the illusion of control. How many secrets had they shared like this? Silver was losing count. “I was raised by a drunken old sailor and a bastard of a navy man who brought nothing but ruin- what could I ever give a child, John?” Flint asked, his hands white knuckle tight on Silver’s, his eyes the deep green of the sea, ghostly and far away. “What could I give them but that same ruin?” And what could Silver say in the face of that? So he said nothing, just nodded and kissed Flints throat until the tension in his shoulders softened and Flint settled back against Silver’s body to rest, weary and still haunted, but at least no longer at knife point in his own home. Silver went back to brushing his hair, singing softly to him as he worked, until Thomas came home and they were able to find more pleasant ways to spend their evening than discussing the sins of one’s father. They didn’t talk about the possibility of children again, not for the whole of the summer. They helped the food banks and the neighborhood families as best they could through the summer, made sure whatever kids stopped by the bar or the kitchen door in the alley left with something to eat, on the house. Thomas made sure checks were written to the shelters and the food banks that needed them, that the families that needed childcare could get it free of charge. They got through the summer, and the conversation never arose again. Silver just kept the thought of Flint holding a bright eyed child that sometimes looked like Thomas’ kid, and sometimes looked like his own, locked away safely in his heart and didn’t examine it too closely. Then Idelle had her baby in August. In October they held a two month belated baby shower for her at The Walrus, so the crew could meet little Wesley Ira Featherstone and his father, bless him, could cry with his crew mates about how proud he was while Idelle had her first stiff drink in over a year. Rackham was there, of course, as the boy’s God father (Silver was delighted by the idea because Rackham was absolutely as terrified by the concept as he was as honored) and Wesley took to him as well as any two month old possibly could. But when it came to crying babies, Rackham didn’t know what to do, and Hal the God Father to all and obvious baby whisperer was back in the kitchen unable to assist. And so Thomas and Silver watched as Flint, who seemed to be acting without really thinking about what he was doing (outside of scolding Rackham who was himself on the verge of tears) scooped up the baby and promptly rocked him calm within moments. “How did you-” Rackham stared at him in shock. “If you didn’t fuckin panic all the time then he wouldn’a started crying,” Flint growled at him, which Wesley found hilarious, if the slew of gurgling giggles was anything to go by. Silver watched, feeling his face split into a ridiculous smile, as Flint refused to give the baby back to Rackham until he’d sobered up, and instead let Idelle tie a sling around his chest to tuck Wesley into, so he could still fix drinks and use his hands while keeping the baby safe. “Sure you don’t want me to take him back?” she asked, Max watching with an amused smile. “You’ll have plenty of him soon, I got ‘im. Just give Rackham a 101 on how to actually hold a baby.” Silver leaned into Thomas as they watched Flint from their seats at the bar, humming as Thomas’ arm went around him automatically, pulling him close into his side. He looked up, curious to see what Thomas thought of his husband suddenly so at home with a child. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but whatever it was, it wasn’t what he saw. Thomas’s face had gone soft, from the crows feet around his eyes to the laughter lines around his mouth, which parted in the gentlest shape of awe Silver might have ever seen on the man, as if he’d realized something he’d never considered before. His shoulders were rounded, leaning forward against the bar, hand fidgeting against the polished bartop as if desperate to reach out for his husband. Silver could feel the arm he hand around his shoulder tensing with the need to act. They watched as Flint moved behind the bar, one hand resting where Wesley’s head was under the sling, rocking him gently as he fetched fresh beers for himself and for Hal. Silver was watching his face, watching the way his lips were moving, as if he were talking to the baby, but he was just too far away to hear what he was saying. “He’s singing,” came Thomas’ voice suddenly, almost lost to the noise of the bar. “What?” “He’s singing,” Thomas said again, nodding to his husband. “Padstow Farewell, he sings it to me sometimes when I have nightmares, I’d know the lyrics on his lips even in the grave.” Silver smiled softly. “He sang it to me when I was recovering from my leg. I didn’t know it could be a lullaby.” “Neither did I but…” “But now-” “Yeah.” Silver reached for Thomas’ other hand and kissed his knuckles, leaning into him further. Thomas held him impossibly tight, resting his cheek on his hair. There’d be more to talk about in the morning, tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, next year. And there was a dizzying sense of joy in that, the same kind of joy that came from watching Flint carrying the future in his worn and weathered hands.

[akaluan]

aka i'm still losing my shit at the convo with Yakumo in the pits area. i have a Need to see louis cornering yakumo afterwards and going MC IS A FUCKING AMNESIA MAN FFS WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT the game has CHEATED us of this prime content -ser

((ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE! Technically this probably does need a followup apology/discussion between the three of them when they finish the Howling Pit zone and go back to base, but I'll write that later. Also, in general, consider this canon for.. basically all my versions of code vein Erich, no matter which ending he gets.))

Louis leans against a piece of scrap, contemplating the misty, waterlogged area in front of them; he’s not looking forward to trudging through the morass, and even less to fighting in that morass, but needs must. He’s pretty sure he remembers a Bloodspring out in this direction, and if Erich can revive it — and the mistle in the whole area — it will mean more safety, more hope, for every revenant in the Gaol of the Mists.

He’ll do anything for a brighter future, even if it means wading through hip-high water and fighting the Lost while doing so.

“—we were all human once,” Yakumo is saying behind him, clearly chatting with Erich as they rest.

Louis shifts his stance enough to cast a glance over his shoulder, a touch of amusement curling in him at the sight of Yakumo holding one of his ubiquitous onigiri; Yakumo always has some of the damn things on him, though at least he’s stopped attempting to offer them to Louis.

(Though, Erich hasn’t had the joy of trying them yet, has he?)

(That will be an interesting—)

“If I completely lost the memory of my human past, I wouldn’t be me anymore,” Yakumo continues with, and Louis freezes, dread pooling in his stomach; he knew he should have pulled at least Yakumo aside before they left! He knew how Yakumo felt about memories, about losing them, about holding onto things, but somehow he’d not expected the man to just— just—!

“I would just be… something in the shape of me,” Yakumo says gloomily, oblivious to Louis’ rising panic. “I’d look like a revenant, but on the inside I’d be no different than the Lost. What’s the point of living like that?”

Breath hisses between Louis’ teeth and he turns, desperately hoping that Erich hasn’t taken offense, that Yakumo hasn’t lost them their best — only? — hope—

Erich is watching Yakumo with an unreadable look in his gaze and his expression otherwise calm; Louis would almost think the man completely unaffected, but there’s… something about him, about the way he’s standing, and the way his right hand is slightly curled, that makes Louis wary. It doesn’t seem like Erich’s about to lash out — his stance isn’t correct for that, at least — but if the man internalizes those words, comes to believe that he isn’t any better than a Lost, that his only worth is in fighting and pushing back the miasma—

No. He can’t let that happen. Can’t let the man think that he doesn’t matter when he absolutely does, when Louis would have welcomed him into their group even without the man’s unusual gifts!

Yakumo rises to his feet and shrugs his jacket into a slightly more comfortable position; he’s not looking in Louis’ direction, though, so he entirely misses the sharp ‘cut it out!’ gesture that Louis makes. Erich does, though, his amber gaze flickering away from Yakumo to settle on Louis for a brief, puzzled moment, before Yakumo opens his damn mouth again and pulls Erich’s attention back to him.

“I served in the army, back before I became a revenant. We used to eat these things when we were out on missions,” Yakumo says as he gestures slightly with the hand holding the onigiri. “I guess… it helps me remember.” He pauses, hand curling slightly towards his chest and chin tipping down, and adds, “It was a miserable time, but I made some good friends that I shouldn’t let myself forget. This stuff doesn’t really taste that great, but eating it always reminds me of those friends.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. Doesn’t taste that great is an understatement in his opinion; Yakumo’s onigiri tend to taste like absolutely nothing, not even salt, which is absurd when Louis knows the damn things are salted to high hell.

This time, the look Erich casts him over Yakumo’s shoulder has an edge of amusement to it. Which is… probably good? But at the same time, it makes Louis really want to see the man try to choke down the tasteless, sticky mess that Yakumo calls ‘onigiri’ and see how amused he is then.

“So I guess you could say it helps me stay me,” Yakumo announces a bit more cheerfully, as he walks past Erich towards the ramp down into the waterlogged morass below. “It’s been an important companion in my life!” he adds with a wry grin while turning back towards Erich, who huffs a small laugh and nods a bit, before freezing as he finally catches sight of Louis.

“Yakumo,” Louis says with as much quiet fury as he can. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Er… sure?” Yakumo flashes a cheerful smile at Erich and says, “Sorry, we’ll be just a moment, alright?” before striding over to Louis, expression wary and fingers tightening on his onigiri enough to start deforming it a bit. “What’s up?” he asks quietly as Louis gestures him into the vague privacy of a nook made by rubble.

Louis quickly checks where Erich is just to be sure the man isn’t close enough to overhear, then quietly says, “Please never, never talk about memories like that around Erich again. This is also on me because I didn’t think to warn you, but… please try to avoid it, if possible.”

Yakumo blinks at him in confusion. “Louis…?”

“He…” Louis grimaces, wrestling with how much he should say, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it, and I didn’t, but… neither Erich nor Io remember anything.”

He can see the moment Yakumo understands: it’s in the way he stiffens, the way his eyes round and his face blanches, the way the breath stutters in his throat and his chin tucks down towards his chest.

“Nothing?” Yakumo repeats in a horrified whisper.

“Nothing,” Louis confirms wearily. “Best I can tell, Erich has about a day or two of memories from before I found the two of them and Io has a few days more, but neither of them know anything about themselves beyond their names.”

“Shit. And I just… I said… shit…!”

Louis hums in agreement and steps closer, bumping his shoulder against Yakumo’s arm in an attempt at comfort. “Eat your damn tasteless onigiri,” he murmurs instead of saying anything else, content that Yakumo understands now and will do his best to help Louis head off any potential issues.

Yakumo scoffs and drives his elbow into Louis’ side in retaliation, though he does take another bite of his food and chews thoughtfully. “You thought about talking with Davis?” he asks the instant he swallows his bite. “Guy’s lost a bunch of his past, if I remember right.”

“I’ve considered it,” Louis agrees as he leans into Yakumo a bit and tips his head up to stare at the vast hole in the distance. “But I just don’t know…”

“If you should go waving that bit of info in front of everyone? Yeah, that makes sense.” Yakumo shoves the last bit of his onigiri in his mouth and dusts his hands off, chewing and swallowing so hastily that Louis is almost certain he’s going to choke. He doesn’t though, and promptly wipes at his mouth as he wryly says, “Still, might want to figure out how to let everyone else know, just so no one else sticks their foot in it like me.”

Louis grimaces but nods in agreement. He should probably just ask Erich and Io if it’s fine for others to knows about their situation — that will be the least invasive way to handle this, he knows — but he’s definitely not looking forward to that conversation. Not because they’ll fight him or be rude or anything, but because… because Erich will probably just quietly agree, and Io will follow his lead, and Louis will be left once again not knowing if they agreed because they want to or because they think they should.

He’s already having that problem with what they’re doing right now, dragging Erich out into the Gaol of the Mists in search of mistle and Bloodsprings: did Erich agree to help them because he wanted to or because Louis was the first friendly face he met that didn’t end up turning into a Lost? Does he actually agree with Louis’ plans, or is he just following along because he has no other purpose, no other direction, and he might as well go along with it?

(Fuck, if Louis was like some of the larger gang leaders, bright and charismatic and cruel, would Erich and Io still have fallen in with them so easily?)

(Power like Erich’s… almost anyone would do their best to flatter and praise and twist their way into controlling it.)

(Is… is Louis doing the same thing?)

(Is he just using them?)

A sharp elbow drives the breath from his lungs and slams him back into the rubble behind him, snapping him free of his twisting thoughts.

“You back with me?” Yakumo asks with a frown, then reaches out to poke Louis between his eyebrows. “You got all silent and guilty looking. Talk to me here, man.”

Louis groans and bats Yakumo’s hand away from his face. “It’s nothing,” he tries to deflect, then scowls when Yakumo just plants himself in front of him.

Yakumo clicks his tongue, gaze sweeping across Louis and then over at the rubble blocking their view of Erich. “Let me guess. You’re worried about coercing him.”

“It would be so easy,” Louis practically whines, letting his head thump against the rubble behind him. “If I say the wrong thing, give him the wrong idea—”

“Yeah, let me know how that works out for you,” Yakumo interrupts with a snort. “He’s quiet, but he’s got some pretty solid instincts. Er… well… people instincts at least. Not so much the instincts of ‘high places bad, watch your footing’, he absolutely does not have those.”

Louis chokes on his laughter, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and futilely drives a foot into Yakumo’s leg in retaliation; it’s not funny, it’s absolutely not funny, but the way Yakumo phrased it—

“Yeouch, hey! Just saying it like it is!” Yakumo yelps as he hops backwards, comically flailing his arms in the process. He casts a quick, surreptitious glance around the edge of the rubble as he does, then signs a quick ‘all clear’ and steps closer again, back thumping against the rubble right next to Louis. “Seriously, though,” he murmurs, all joking gone from his tone, “if he’s just muddling along on instincts and copying us, then you’re not wrong about worrying. Hell, I probably just made things worse without even realizing it.” He huffs and shakes his head, then casts a sidelong look at Louis and adds, “But we also can’t shy away from it, or pretend to be anything we’re not. We just gotta… do our best, you know? Be us. Be honest. Be kind. Try to remember that he doesn’t remember.”

“I know,” Louis agrees with a sigh, rubbing away the moisture from the corners of his eyes. “I know, but I still worry,” he admits softly, painfully, thinking about all the ways he could just… spin a lie around Erich that the man would never think to question. He won’t, not knowingly at least, but the idea that he could sits sour-heavy-horrible in his stomach, like the rotgut Yakumo brought home one day and insisted they share.

Yakumo shifts a bit closer, pressing their sides together, and bluntly says, “You should. Just don’t second-guess yourself too much, huh? Can’t have our fearless leader hesitating on us.”

Louis snorts and gives Yakumo a dark look in response. “When did this become you giving me a talk?” he asks in exasperation, even as he leans into Yakumo, soaking up the offered reassurance and trying to settle his mind; they can’t afford Louis hesitating or having his focus drift at a critical moment, Yakumo’s right about that, but knowing that and avoiding that are two very different things.

(It’s going to take him a while to sort all this out in his head.)

(Hopefully this trip through the pit will be uneventful...)

“Probably when you started having a crisis,” Yakumo answers flippantly, then nudges Louis lightly and asks, “You good now?”

“Good as I can be,” Louis says as he pushes away from the rubble and brushes dust from his pants. Not that it matters, since they’re going to be walking through a mire soon enough—

(Can he skip this area?)

(He’d love to skip this area.)

(Ugh!)

—but it’s something for his hands to do while he finishes collecting himself and getting himself back into the right mindset.

Yakumo steps away and gestures grandly for Louis to go first. “Shall we head out, then?”

Louis rolls his eyes, takes one last moment to gather himself, then steps around the piece of rubble and says, “Okay, all set!”

Erich glances up from the mistle, his gaze curious, but he says nothing as he rises to his feet and steps back expectantly, clearly waiting for something—

Louis flashes the man a smile as he walks forward, hoping that none of his doubts are obvious, hoping that Erich didn’t overhear any of their conversation, hoping-hoping-hoping—

“Let’s be careful as we go,” he says instead of any of the twisting jumble of words — of apologies — that he wants to. “If we get split up in this mist, we might never find each other again.”

Erich nods sharply, casts a calculating gaze out over the watery pit, then slants a wry glance at Louis and says, “Yakumo can take point with me.”

Louis snorts, ignores Yakumo’s snickering by dint of long practice, and says, “Appreciated, even if I still have to slog along behind you.”

“You’ll live,” Yakumo declares as he steps forward, clapping a hand on Louis’ shoulder as he swaggers past with that frankly ridiculous blade of his slung over his shoulder once again. “Come on, let’s go see what lurks in the shallows, huh?”

“I would prefer a bit less lurking,” Erich grumbles as he follows Yakumo down the ramp, his bayonet in his hands and his gaze sweeping across the area around them.

Louis makes an amused noise as he follows them down into the water, then immediately wrinkles his nose at the feeling of water pouring into his boots and making his pants stick uncomfortably to his legs.

(He already hates this place.)

(If it wasn’t for what he could learn here—)

(But no, personal comfort means nothing in the face of a way to help other revenants stuck here in the Gaol of the Mists.)

(He just… wishes everything was a bit less wet.)

(Ugh.)

[skywalkerstyles]

To Break Her Down

Poly Relationship with Bakugou, Todoroki and Deku AU fic

Chapter One

Warnings: Yandere Shoto, Yandere Katsuki, Yandere Izuku, manipulation, gas lighting

Summary: Jun Tanaka thought it was too good to be true when she’s fired from her job and offered another within minutes. Working as a live in maid for pro heroes Shoto, Deku and Dynamight. But not everything is as it seems and these heroes hold a dark secret she doesn’t discover until it’s too late.

To the public they were Pro Heroes. Saviors of the city to everyone who saw them.

No one knew about the things they did in the dark though.

When their adrenaline was pumping and they were filled with the need to overpower. To ravage.

They were corrupt. There was no doubt about that. They played with dolls and tossed them aside. Captured more and broke them too.

They never seemed able to find the right doll. That is….

Until they stopped at a little mom and pop diner one night after patrol.

Her name tag said Jun. what a perfect name. It meant

‘obedient.’ She had long black curls and Sunkissed bronze skin. Her eyes were hazel and they looked so wide and innocent.

“Pick your jaw up Deku. You’re staring.” Katsuki snapped at the other hero. Deku nodded, shutting his mouth and swallowing hard. His fingers twitched by his knife.

“She does look absolutely delectable, doesn’t she?” Shoto said in a low tone, shifting in his seat as he watched her walk away. Katsuki grunted his agreement. They watched her waltz around, anger spiking when men flirted with her. When she came to their table they were polite, more friendly than they’d normally be.

They were all abuzz as they walked the rest of the way to their apartment that night. Excitedly talking about the girl they had just met.

“She has the perfect body for bearing children-“

“She would be such a good little doll.”

“I for one, will enjoy breaking her.”

They couldn’t wait to go back and see her again.

They followed her for a few months, learning her life, her schedule. She had a boyfriend. A skeevy bastard. Katsuki was itching to kill him but Shoto kept him at bay.

“She will belong to us soon enough. Patience.”

“Tch.”

She worked a lot and didn’t seem to have many friends. When she wasn’t working she was at home. Painting, taking care of her cat, reading. She seemed to enjoy solitude.

“I don’t know how much longer I can wait Shoto.” Deku said one night as she entered her apartment. “I want to watch her break. I want to see her tears. I want...to taste them.” Shoto pats Deku on the shoulder, smiling wickedly at him.

“Soon Izuku. We’ll have her soon enough.”

“Jun! I need you to get in here.” Hoji, Jun’s manager shouted at her from his office.

“Alright!” Jun yelled back. She had two trays balanced on her arms as she made her way to the back. The Pro Heroes that had started coming in a few months back were there, waiting for her to serve them. She stopped at their table for a moment, flashing them a soft smile.

“Be with you guys in a second.”

“Tch.”

“Okay.”

“Take all the time you need.” She swallowed the uneasy feeling in her throat as she made her way to the back.

Hoji sat at his desk, looking more disgruntled than usual as she took the seat across from him.

“You wanted to see me?” He glared up at her with Brady black eyes.

“I have to let you go.” Her jaw dropped open at his words, heart jumping into her chest.

“W...what?” He nodded.

“There’s been several complaints these last couple months. About your treatment of customers, remarks you’ve made. I can’t have that. Not here. I’m sorry.”

“But Hoji I didn’t-“

“You need to go.” He had a look on his face, as if he wanted to tell her something but couldn’t. “Just….go.”

Jun sat for a moment stunned, tears welling in her eyes. Angrily she got up, yanking her apron off and storming out of the office.

“Jun!” A co worker hollered after her.

“Fuck off!” She snapped back, rushing out the door.

Once outside she knelt down, placing her head between her knees and screaming. She didn’t notice the heroes had gotten up and followed her outside as well.

“Hey...Um….Jun?” She flinched when a hand touched her shoulder, jerking up and away from the touch, angry tears in her eyes. Deku, Shoto and Dynamight stood in front of her, all looking at her with something of concern on their faces.

“What?” She snapped, wiping at her eyes furiously. Deku spoke again.

“Are you….are you okay? You left so quickly-“

“I just got fired.”

“I….oh.” He gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Unless you can pay my rent and put food in my fridge then no.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked down at her feet. She turned to walk away when she felt a cold hand on her wrist, pulling her back.

“Actually….we might be able to help you with that.” Shoto said, a kind smile on his face. But it didn’t meet his eyes. It made her nervous.

“N...no really. I was being sarcastic-“

“I wasn’t….” he interrupted. “We just moved into a new house. We,” he motioned between himself and the two others. “Have always been roommates. But I must say, we aren’t very good at keeping after ourselves-we need….we need a woman’s touch about the place.”her eyebrows knit in confusion as he continued. “If you need help, we can give you work. If you come and be our live in house keeper, you’ll have free room and board and an allowance or ‘paycheck’ of sorts. We’d love to have you.”

It felt almost too good to be true. Something in the back of her mind screamed for her to run, to get away from them. But another part of herself knew that’d be useless and possibly cause her danger.

She swallowed hard, looking between the men.

“Can I….can I bring my cat?” Shoto chuckled.

“Of course.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and scribbled something on the back of it with a pen he pulled from his shirt pocket. “My phone number. Call me when you have your things packed up, we will come and help you move it. Let us know when you’re ready.” He reached out, patting her cheek twice before turning away. Dynamight stood for a moment, watching her heavily before scoffing and following the other two.

Jun looked at the card in her hands that night as she was sitting on her bed, Pan in her lap, purring as she stroked his fur.

She decided that night that she would call the number the next morning. Working for Pro Heroes could be fun. And she’s get to know them in a way no fan ever could.

“The hell were you thinking? Just letting her go like that?” Katsuki snarled at Shoto. Shoto sighed, sipping his water slowly as the silence stretched. He knew that irritated Katsuki to high heaven, being ignored. When he finished his water he looked at him.

“She needs to come to us on her own idiot. She needs to think she’s calling the shots….for now.”

“DONT CALL ME AN IDIOT-“

“It’ll be fun won’t it?” They turn to see Deku gleefully throwing his knives into the floor, watching them stick straight up and pulling them out to do it again. “I can’t wait to break her.” He looked up at them with wild eyes. “She cries so pretty doesn’t she? I can’t wait.”

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

oh dreammmm. Shut up Tommy.

Okay so I was watching Tommy's stream today and it gave me this very out of character idea for my crime au.

The pilot episode: 2 & 4

Masterlist

Its a few days after the dream teams public execution that terrorized the city. 

Dream, George and sapnap are hanging out in a backstreet bar that's notoriously know to be one of the many criminal friendly bars around the city. Even though all of their faces were partially revealed to the public, nobody seemed to bat an eyelid at the trio. They didn't even look like criminals at all to be honest

They were all laughing and joking and just having an all round good time

Until dream heads home early to feed his cat, and feels a presence behind him as he walks through the streets to his apartment.

He turns round and pins the person to the alley wall just as he felt a hand near his back pocket

“Woah-o-ho okay okay” Dream swears he hears the guys voice crack

“Hey man, that's my bad. I’m sure we can work things out, just please don't shank me, my mum wants me home by 11.”

Dream furrows his eyebrows and looks the guy up and down.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he looks more like a kid

He’s got a thin frame and straggly hair that he cant tell weather its light brown, or just dirty. His face is red but mostly pale with a few cuts and a large purpling black eye on the left side of his face. The kids facial expression takes dream by surprise. He doesn't look like someone whose being pinned to the wall by, basically a mass murderer. 

In fact, he looks like someone he knows.

“Tommy?”

This is the kid that used to follow techno everywhere.

“Well I mean yes but, h-how do you know that if you don't mind me asking big man.”

Dream releases Tommy and steps back from the wall, the kid looks confused but he follows closely behind when the taller of the two motions for him to join him out of the alley.

Tommy smirks for a second until dream turns back around

“Wallet first.”

Tommy sulks for the rest of the walk

Its a few months later and Tommy looks a bit older, he’s still covered in bruises and his hair is still dirty. He’s sat on top of one of the larger buildings in the city, swinging his legs over the edge and looking down into the street below 

He knows Wilbur will be worrying where he’s gotten to, especially since tensions in the city are so high right now, but he needed to get away. He needed time to think.

He looks up to the stars and thinks of how alone he felt when techno disappeared without a trace. Remembers feeling so upset with the world, so worthless and lost. He still thinks it was his fault the kingpin of the city went away. Maybe he had finally gotten fed up with Tommy, maybe he’d annoyed him too much, he knows he was defiantly being too clingy. And he thinks a part of him will always deem himself to be a burden to others.

But then he met dream, and life changed.

( Or rather, he pickpocketed dream and suddenly this strange man he tried to steal from wanted him in his life )

And suddenly he felt less alone

He learnt very quickly that the man he tried to pickpocket was in fact the masked man he’d been watching all over the news, and man did he annoy the hell out of the dream with the amount of questions he asked.

He didn't know why the older man wanted to keep him around, especially since he knew of his close connections to his ( former ) rival technoblade, but he was very grateful for the friendship regardless.

Dreams friends weren't as quick to trust him, and tommy didn't blame them. ( He did try to steal a number of there possessions )

He remembers the first heist dream ever brought him on. He was supposed to be on crowd control with sapnap, but one of the hostages lunged at Tommy when sapnaps back was turned, wrestling the startled kid to the ground. Tommy was never the best at winning fights, he usually just let his opponents get a few hits in and then they would usually walk away with whatever possessions he had on him, but this guy wasn't backing down. 

He hit Tommy a few times before taking the gun from his hands and pointing it in his face. He remembers this as one of the only times in his life he showed how truly scared he was infront of other people.

The guy tried to use Tommy as negotiation to let everyone out of the bank unharmed, neither sapnap nor George knew how to handle the situation, but as soon Tommy saw Dream re emerge from the vault pistol in hand, he didn't feel scared anymore.

Tommy smirks at the memory and looks up from where he was watching his feet swing back and forth, in the distance he sees the rubble of the bank and he almost wishes he could go back to that day just to see if he could tell if Dreams worry was just another ploy for the public .

The young boy hears the creak of the metal door behind him and he knows its Dream. He doesn't turn around to look at the man, he doesn't even really want to have this conversation, but he cant pretend like there's nothing wrong forever. Dream knows him now, knows his queues and quirks and even through the stress of an incoming war, he knows that Tommy's upset.

“Shouldn't you be in l’manberg”

Dream doesn't join tommy on the ledge 

“You know its not safe for you here.”

Tommy doesn't look at him

“Tommy”

“What dream!”

“Oh so its dream now is it.”

“Yeah its fucking dream”

“What the hell Tommy, what's you deal man .”

“What's my deal? I’ll tell you what my fucking deal is.”

Tommy stands up from the ledge and pushes himself into dream space. “Why were you so persistent to become my friend ay. You knew, you knew I had connections to techno, pretty fucking close connections dream. And even when the people you trusted with your life told you over and over again that I was gunna fuck you over, you went against them to keep me, fucking me in your life. Why the fuck did you want a scrawny ass, shit for brains, worthless fucking kid in you life dream? Was it to get back at techno? Was it ! Because I cant think of any other fucking reason dream!” Tommy was so caught up in his own anger he almost didn't hear dreams reply.

“He asked me to!”

Tommy's breath hitches and he feels like times stood still, for a second he forgets how to breath, how to think. He doesn't know how to feel.

Tommy watches Dreams facial expression, only just notices that he hasn't got his mask on. He watches Dream furrow his eyebrows and then soften as he try's to put his hand on Tommy's shoulder, but the younger boy just swats his hand away. “Don't touch me.” Tommy try's to be aggressive but Dream sees how tired tommy is and he notices the tears building up along his waterline.

Its a while before Tommy speaks again

 “What do you mean, he asked you to.”

“He didn't do it in person, probably would have shot him otherwise. He sent me a letter, few days after everyone realized he’d gone for good. It was smart, sending something that wasn't digital, probably would have been hacked by some shitty fangroup by now. Told me he was going, and that he probably wasn't going to come back. Told me to look out for you, to tell you not to go looking for him, and than none of this was your fault cause he knew you were a stupid kid who would blame everything on yourself.”

Tommy's a lot calmer now, he still feels tears threatening to spill but he doesn't make an effort to wipe them away. “Why didn't you tell me.”

“Didn't think it would make a difference. Thought it would just make you think I was only looking after you because of a debt.”

“Arnt you?”

“You think Id put up with your teenage bullshit for this long if I didn't care about your stupid ass.”

Tommy searches his friends face for anything, any indicator that he was telling a lie. Out in the field when his masks on he’s unreadable, his expression is worthless because everything he does is an act. But when he’s talking to his friends, in the comfort of their headquarters or their apartment, his expressions change like the weather. So when Tommy sees dream give him warm eyes and a soft smile, he cries.

He sobs and falls into dreams arms. He wraps his arms around his friend and for the first time he hugs dream without feeling like a burden of any kind and he feels like the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

Dream lets Tommy sob into his embrace for a while before he addresses the elephant in the room. “Your not safe outside l’manberg Tommy.”

“I know.” Tommy mumbles into dreams tear stained shoulder.

“You know I cant promise that your friends wont get hurt tomorrow.”

Tommy only nods at this

“Knew you'd be to stubborn to give up on this.”

Tommy smiles and lifts his head, “Have my disks thought you nothing old man.”

“Hey! I'm not that old.”

They step away from each other now, Tommy hovers at the door to the roof. The sun would start to rise soon, and he needs to get back to his part of the city before Wilbur has a heart attack. They stand there, so many things left unsaid. Tommy wants to tell dream to spare Tubbo, to make him tell the Dream smp not to kill his friend, but even Tommy's immunity is falling apart at this point. Dream wants to tell Tommy to convince his friends to surrender, he doesn't want the boy to see the bloodshed. Maybe he even wants to convince him not to take part in the war at all, but he knows his attempts would be futile.

“Hey, whatever happens out there tomorrow.”

Tommy cuts dream off and just nods “I know.”

They look at each other one last time, both wishing tomorrow would never come. Tommy's eyes water again, he knows he’s doing the right thing, for him, for his friends, and for l’manberg.

Tommy slips out the door and he never looks back

[lilousmustaches]

L.A nightmares

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: TW!!! Sexual harassement, authorities using their power in a nasty way, dissociating, anxiety. 

Notes: Hey! Here i am after years writing Jensen x reader again! How do you feel about it? But okay... this fic. I had this idea when i saw a thread on twitter that told a story about an event that Jensen was with Danneel, they saw a girl being harassed and Jensen immediataly intervened. I can't find this post anywhere but i truly believe that he is that type of guy. Be safe out there ladies! 

Summary: Jensen and the reader are co-stars and travel to L.A together, just to pass throught a series of unfortunate events. 

xxXXxxXXxx

"Here's the next week script (Y/N)." A girl that worked around the set said polity handing you a large new script. You had seen her around before, what was her name? Lauren... Laura! Was Laura. You hated not knowing people's name, especially those who worked with you and for you, but it was so many people walking around, everyday a new person, that made it a bit hard.

 "Thanks Laura!" You asked with a small smile that she retributed and walked away. You started to leafing through the next script seeing that you had more scenes in this episode than in the last two you appeared. 

 "(Y/N)!" Someone shouted making you immediately lift your gaze seeing a smiling Jensen in front of you. "I didn't know you would be here today!" He said hugging you and felt almost dizzy with his perfume. He was definitely one of most good smelling men you ever came across. 

 "You seen me yesterday J." You said laughing breaking the hug and the struggled. 

 "Still missing you though." He said putting his arms in your shoulders and started walking with you again. You had entered the Supernatural cast years before, being a really important character and recently, Sam's love interest. You didn't appeared on every episode but in the most of them, like Misha, for example. Because of this, he was one of your best friends, along with the boys that eventually you became inseparable. Always hanging out together, laughing and pranking each other. It truly was a family. Although you had to kiss Jared sometimes because of some scenes, you saw him practically like a older brother. But with Jensen... Well, that was a whole another story. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought that you had already taken the fight for L.A" 

 "I had to adjust some details of my last scene." You explained. "Why? You wanted me gone, that bad?" You joked hearing him huffing. 

 "Well, yeah, I can't even look at your face anymore." Jensen joked back making you roll your eyes and he laughed, squeezing you harder. "Just kidding sweetheart, you know pretty damn well that I never can bring myself to be tired of you." He said like it was nothing making you blush a little bit. Usual.

 You were already in the outside part of the set and spotted Jared and Misha coming at your direction. 

 "Good things to say Ackles, because I will be going with you to L.A" You explained when the boys came closer. 

 "Really? Thank god you will be saving me from a boring trip with that moron." Jared said stepping up in the conversation referring to Jensen, because Misha wouldn't be able to go to this one, and you smiled. You would take a fight a few days earlier than the boys but because of the problem with one scene, you had to go with them. 

 "Really, argh, I'm so excited." You said making a strange face and they laughed. "It's going to be my first award!" 

 "It's gonna be fun." Jared said and Jensen smiled in adoration looking at you,  lot shorter than him and a few years younger. 

 None of you knowing what kind of things this trip could bring. And man, there were a lot.

 XxXxXxxXx

"Wow." Jensen breathed out stepping up in the apartment you would share in this three days in the city of angels, Los Angeles. Some of the cast had to come to be present in a award that was going to happen in the city. Jared and Genevieve, his wife, opted to stay in a hotel but you had this friend that was out of town and offered her place for you to stay, and you took it, inviting Jensen since you knew he wasn't a big fan of hotels. 

 "Pretty nice, hun?" You said with a little smile realizing that it had been a while since you stayed in there and he nodded. 

 "Tell me about it." He said looking around. The place was pretty wide and cozy. A little fancy but with a lot of little fun things, like a orange table, some colorful frames around and a blue fridge. Your personal favorite. 

 You two adjusted yourselves in the two guests rooms that had in the apartment beside the suite and started to get ready for the dinner Gen invited you. It was some friends of her and some producers, directors and a bunch of kind of important people in the movie industry. You didn't recognize any of the names Jensen told you that would be attempting to it, but why the hell not, you wanted a fun night with some of your friends. 

 You finally finished your makeup and with a last look in the mirror you step out of the room going to the living room, only to find Jensen there, sitting on the couch, ready to go, scrolling throught his phone. Soon as he heard your high heels getting closer, he lifted his gaze, losing his breath for the second time this day. 

 "Wow." He breathed out looking at you with a loose short black dress, red high heels and lipstick. "You look beautiful (Y/N)." He said honestly staring at you and you felt yourself blush. 

 The truth was that you were completely in love with him. For a few years now. Since you started the series, Jensen caught your eye. I mean, how could he not? He was handsome, funny, sweet, always smelling good and the most important thing.... He was caring. Jensen Ackles was one of the most caring guys you knew. Got a problem? Jensen would listen. Hell, Jensen would solve it. And not just with his closest friends, but with everybody around him. He always offered help, not matter what. He makes sure his PA, and the people around set already had breakfast before work. He makes sure to offers to take water, every time someone get drunk on the casts parties. It was the details. And you loved them all. 

 You quickly became friends, and you were okay with being just that. Besides the friendly flirting it's not like you expected something else. Just having someone as incredible as him to call your friend was enough. 

 "Well, you don't look too bad yourself." You said and he laughed, rolling his eyes getting up of the sofa. "But thank you." 

 "I meant it (Y/N), you look like you could break some hearts tonight." Jensen continued to compliment you as he opened the apartment door. "But let's go miss, Jared said that we are already late." 

 You called an Uber to take the two of you to the restaurant placed in DownTown, a district in Los Angeles, one of your favorite parts of the city. Although you enjoyed every little piece of it, you just loved L.A, it made you feel good. After some minutes in the car, and some easy going conversation with Jensen, the driver announced you had arrived. Just for the entrance you could tell it was fancy. 

 "I thought it was just a dinner." You said immediately when you entered the place, looking around seeing that the restaurant was closed for the event and everybody was up talking and walking around. Some waiters were passing serving some food and some of them with trays serving wine, whiskey and champagne. 

 "Yeah, I thought so too" Jensen said, looking around surprised as well. "Hollywood, and their people with grandeur complex." He said making you chuckle. 

 "(Y/N)! Jensen!" You heard and spotted Jared smiling and waving you, with Genevieve by his side. You and Jensen reached them, after a waiter stopped you offering something to drink, you went with wine and Jensen with whiskey. "You finally got here! I was already thinking you wouldn't make it." 

 "Stop being dramatic, we were just a little late." Jensen said hugging his friend and then Gen. You doing the same. 

 "(Y/N) is so good to see you, it has been a while hasn't it?" Gen said breaking the hug and you agreed. Since you became friends with Jared, the friendship with Gen came along and you two just hit so well, in the set, your friends was mostly males and you loved having some girl company when she was around. She introduced you to her friends, that first invited her to the event. They were also actors, and they explained how they met in a project Gen was part of when she was just beginning her career.

 "So, are you guys excited about tomorrow? Heard you're competing in two categories right?" Aaron, one of Gen's friends, said referring to the awards you would be attending because of Supernatural. 

 "Yeah! Especially this girl here who is totally a award virgin." Jared joked putting his hands on your shoulders and you giggled, rolling your eyes.

 "Can you blame me? It's a big step in someone's career!" You defended yourself. "Oh it definitely is! I remembering when I went to my first award, I was so nervous and I wasn't even running for anything." Aaron laughed taking a sip of his wine. "It's just a great place to meet important people."

 "It sure is." Yan, the other friend, agreed. "But if I'm being honest, we are just in the right place for networking right now. Every big fish that can hire and fire you from any huge project in the industry is here tonight." 

 "I noticed... That guy over the balcony is practically one of CW's owners right?" Jensen said holding his whiskey, discreetly pointing at some guy behind you. Your turned around to look, after all one he was one of the owners of the channel Supernatural passed. The guy was a lot older, bald and plus sided, but you quickly turned around when he caught you facing. 

 "Yep, Tony Garcia." Aaron answered. The six of you passed a few more minutes talking and drinking, until they parted to talk to more people that was there. You got that Tony guy staring from time to time. You walked with Jensen for a bit, meeting some great and important people, as Yan had said. Talked for some time with Jared, he was already funny but got even funnier when he was tipsy. And finally, passed some time with Gen... until you had to go to the bathroom.

"(Y/N) right? The Supernatural star!" The Tony guy stopped you when you were getting out of the toilet, in your way back to Jensen that was laughing with some other three mans. You laughed a little embarrassed, why that guy knew your name? Okay, you literally worked for him but he was way far away in the enterprise. 

 "I don't if it could be called that, but yeah! I'm (Y/N), pleasure to meet you!" You said smiling extending your hand to him and he quickly shake his head. 

 "Nah, I don't do hand shakes with beautiful woman like you." Tony said with a laugh already pulling you to a hug. His hand in your back was dangerously close to your butt, his breath stank like whiskey - a great amount of that -, the tone of his voice and the intimacy he putted on the hug was enough to make you uncomfortable. This wasn't right. You could sense something was terrible wrong. "And believe me when I say beautiful, I mean something else." 

 "Ha ha." You gave him a yellow smile already grossed out by the man in front of you. What he was implying? "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Garcia, but if you excuse me I-..."

 "So you know who I am!" He interrupted you, interrupting your way to leaving the conversation too. His tone already implied power and dominance, as if his name had a big weight in the conversation. "Well, as one of the CW's owners I have to say Supernatural brings a lot of benefits for us. I'm happy about the success of the series! I can see why the audience increased after your entrance." Tony said with pure maliciousness in his voice looking you up and down, showing no shame, looking you as if you were totally naked. "I believe woman don't last much on the show, but it would be a shame if you had to leave." He said and you knew that it was a threat. He was threading you.

 You gulped feeling your throat burning from holding back tears. The only words that crossed your mind was 'Every big fish that can hire and fire you'. God, you were a woman, unfortunately harassment was something you experienced all your life but it didn't make any less painful anytime it happened. The fame industry was gross and you knew that. You heard horrible stories about girls having to do every kind of sick bullshit to only get a chance for audition. You were so thankful that none of it happened to you, that you found a show with the most respectful co-workers and producers you could ever think of. But there you were, face-to-face to some sick nasty man that had the power to fire you in a snap of his fingers. 

 "It would indeed." You said forcing a smile, taking a sip of the wine in your hands.

 "I have to say, you have such a beautiful mouth." He said. "I wonder what it can do." 

 "It sure can drink." You said laughing nervously drinking the entire wine that was left in your glass. Only your glass was still half full. It didn't burned more than holding back the tears though.

 "Oh princess, no need to be nervous around me." Tony said laughing and you immediately related to the sound of a pig. That was what he was. A pig. Once again he passed his arm around your body pulling you close and resting his hand, this time, just down your boob but close enough to be touching. You were trapped in his grip, so close to his face, feeling that alcohol breath. You couldn't think the last time you were so uncomfortable, you needed to get out of there, you just needed. Every single part of your body yelled dangerous. "We're all friends here.... We can even be more than it tonight." 

 "Hey." You heard a deep voice by your side and you almost missed the sight of Jensen's hard expression by the tears that now was blurring your eyes. "Let go man, I believe you're making her uncomfortable." 

 "Hey..." Tony laughed looking at Jensen, letting you go and you didn't noticed you were holding your breath until that moment. You immediately stepped away from Tony, going to Jensen's side. "We were just chilling... what? Playing Dean for so long that incorporated the hero type?" 

 "Yeah, it didn't look like chilling to me." Jensen said not losing his posture and not falling for any of his bullshit. Jensen was in the middle of a conversation with some directors, exchanges tips, when he saw you from far away simply drinking your whole glass of wine all at once. He knew you to well to notice something was wrong, and he didn't need more than 10 seconds to understand what was happening. "And relax! I know how to separate my character really well, but I do believe we have basic ethics principles in common." 

 "Okay smart boy." Tony said with now anger is his features. "Remembering who you are taking to. Supernatural can turn into a one star show really quick. And you..." He said turning to you. "Consider yourself fired."

 "As far as I know you don't decide shit about my show, but I do know that you need to start respecting women." Jensen said in the same low tone, with anger in every word. "Excuse me." 

 Jensen leaded you the way making sure you didn't even pass near Tony again, he was with a gentle hand in your back almost not touching you and quickly you two were already outside and you saw him calling a cab. 

 "I'm sorry (Y/N), I got so angry... You wanna go home or you want to stay more? That dick won't get any closer to you, I promise." Jensen asked turning to you and looking straight into your eyes with concerned. 

 "I just wanna go home Jens." You said with a chocked voice letting the first tear fall down. You were in shock, practically shivering. You always says to yourself that the next time something like that happens, you were going to stand, be loud and not take it quietly. But every time you freeze. Every fucking time. 

 You dissociated the entire way back home, with a million thoughts in your head and at the same time, none. You noticed with the corner of your eyes, Jensen constantly looking at you to check and typing something on his phone, probably letting Jared know what happened and why you headed off. He didn't try to talk to you, and honestly you were grateful for that. 

 Immediately when you entered the apartment, you went to the shower. The water was burning hot but it felt like nothing in your body. You didn't know what trigged you so hard, thinking about it, the situation was kind of quick and it could have been a million times worse. But you were so scared that he would fulfill his word. Mans like him don't just accept being rejected, you felt so small.... Almost guilty. Tears started to fall down desperately and sobs got out of your mouth. You didn't know how much time you passed in the bath but saw some clothes in the bed you were sleeping when you got out. A grey sweatshirt and some boys shorts. Jensen. 

 "Hey..." You said with a small voice standing by the door of the room Jensen was sleeping, seeing him sitting by the end of the bed scrolling through his phone. "Thanks for the clothes."

 "Comfort sweatshirt right?" He joked seeing you in his clothes, referring to when you stole it on set and he passed days looking for it until he found you sleeping in his coat and listen to the excuse that it was your 'comfort sweatshirt', that it made you happy and safe. "Hey... com' here" 

 Jensen said with a soft voice when he saw your face struggling to hold back the tears. He back out laying in the left side of the bed opening his arms for you to join him, and you immediately did. Nestling in his chest, he hugged you strong hearing you cry quietly into his neck. 

 "You know... This is not even the worst that happen to me." You said when you calmed down after some minutes of cuddling in silence and Jensen moved his face away just enough to stare at you, but stayed quiet waiting for you to get out of your chest whatever you needed. "These situations had been happening with me, well with all women, since before we even know what this means. Teachers, taxi driver's, superiors, random people in public places, friends... I just... Tell myself that the next time something like that happen I will stood up for it. But every time it happens I just loose all my courage." 

 "And this it's not on you (y/n). This is unacceptable, shouldn't be happening at all and it's not your fault not having a response for it. This shouldn't be a situation you must be prepared for." Jensen said frowning his eyebrows looking at you deadly serious. "I'm so sorry you have to go through that bullshit almost daily. It fucking pisses me off."

 "Yeah I'm sorry too." You said with a weak smile feeling him stroking his thumb slowly in your back where his hand stood. "Do you think he can fire me?"

"No." Jensen said with certain. "He has nothing to do with Supernatural productions. And even if he could, I wouldn't let them. If he wants you gone, i would be gone too." 

"Jensen..." You were speechless. "Us women really suffer daily, but it makes a little better knowing that there are at least some guys out there that truly respect us. I am lucky to have fell in a job full of you. I really appreciate what you did for me today Jensen." 

 "I'm always gonna be here for you (Y/N)... And it's truly that least I can do." Jensen said with a rough voice. "There was this time on set, before you were even in the series, that Jared's PA was harassed by a camera man... Nobody saw the moment and from one day to another she asked for resignation. Nobody understood and we continued to treat the guy like a friend for months until we finally discovered what happened. I just.... I'm just glad that I was there with you tonight." 

 You just gave him a small smile feeling your heart so full that could explode. It was an awful night, it really was. But Jensen... He was everything you could ever ask in a friend. You hugged him strong and got into a position where your foreheads were touching. Yours and Jensen's eyes were closed but you could feel his breathing and the warm of his lips almost touching yours. You didn't know how long you stayed in that position but you surely didn't want that to end. 

 "I could be like this every single day." You said before you even could stop yourself and frowned when the realization hit you. "Wait did I just confessed?"

 He squeezed your waist to make you open your eyes that stood close because of the embarrassment, and you had to hold your breath when saw Jensen's green eyes, so vivid, looking so close at your tenderly. 

 "Yeah? Cause I would too" Jensen breathed out feeling a weight off his chest. What that really happening? The women he had feeling for months now, in front of him telling she liked him? He saw in your eyes the relief you felt cause of his confession and slowly finally gave you a long chaste kiss.

 You both knew that this was enough for now. The cuddling, the comfort of each other and the lightness of knowing the feeling were both sided was enough. There was going to have the moment for your skin meet his and there was going to have the moment for a serious conversation about your feelings.

 But for now all that matters was being in each other arms, and sensing that the night that started like a nightmare turned into a dream.

Tagging: @esoltis280 @smoothdogsgirl @helloangelicaaaaa @sleepylunarwolf​ @sympathyforluci​ @mirandaaustin93​ @atc74​ @spnbaby-67​ @reginaphalange2403​ @hi-my-name-is-riley​ @mychemicalimagines​ @multifandomlover121​

[wooyunhwa2]

𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 | 𝑱𝒀

Genre: fluff, smut

part 1 | part 2

Pairing: yandere!Yunho x fem reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: choking, crying, hair pulling, rough sex, oral (giving and receiving), dom!yunho, general posessiveness, yunho is generally just kind of insane

Synopsis: He was tall, charismatic, and had a smile that could outshine the sun, but your fun date with Yunho soon proved to be more than you bargained for.

“Hey!” 

You looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. As you turned, you noticed a tall figure trotting up to you, waving a hand to get your attention. 

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right? I’m Yunho, Yeosang’s friend. Sorry, I kinda ran here. I was really worried I was gonna be late,” he said, looking a little winded, though still sporting a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said, tilting your head way up to be able to make eye contact. Holy shit, he was tall. Yeosang had mentioned that, but for some reason you underestimated him a little.  

“Awesome! I mean, I’ve seen pictures of you, so technically it’s not a blind date, but close enough, right?” he laughed. 

“It’s ok, I cheated too. Yeosang showed me your Facebook profile, so I guess we’re even.” 

Though, you had to admit, he was way cuter in person. He had fluffy, platinum-blonde hair and a dark undercut, and big, friendly eyes. He was wearing a giant sky blue sweater, and it looked so soft that you kinda wanted to ask if you could touch it. Would that be weird?

“That bastard!” he faux-growled, shaking his fist at the sky. He seemed like kind of a dork, but in a cute way. He had a smile on his face that could only be compared to the literal sun. You laughed, and followed him as he walked up to the ice skate rental booth. 

“I’ll get your rentals, ok?”

“Oh, actually, I uh…” you held up the tote bag you’d been carrying. “I kinda brought my own.” You smiled sheepishly when he looked impressed. 

“Really? Do you skate a lot?”

“A little,” you said. Maybe more than just a little. You’d been skating since you were a kid, and the ice was practically your second home. You’d even won a few medals at a local figure skating tournament some years ago, but you felt a bit shy about bragging on a first date. 

“Well, you know what that means,” he said seriously. 

“...What does it mean?”

“We can race, duh!” 

He paid for his skates and grabbed them off the counter, gesturing to a bench over by the frozen lake. You sat on it and began lacing up. It was always the most annoying part, but it would be worth it once you finally got out onto the ice. He hummed while he did up his laces, taking a little longer than you to get everything tightened. You’d had plenty of practice, so it didn’t take you nearly as long as it once did. 

You glanced over at him as you waited. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were starting to turn pink from the chilly air. Wow, he was really, really cute. He caught you looking and smiled, and you quickly looked away, a little embarrassed. 

“Phew! Ready.” Yunho stood up, swaying his ankles a few times to make sure his skates were secure. “Don’t fall, ok?”

“Ha, no promises,” you said as you moved your feet onto the lake, feeling the blades slide over its frozen surface. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you do!” He glided backwards a little, holding his arms out for support if you were to fall. You weren’t worried at all about falling, but his sweater looked so soft and inviting that you couldn’t help but to fake losing balance just a little bit as an excuse to hold onto him. You let your hands rest on top of his forearms, and you were pleased to note that his sweater was even softer than it looked. He gently held onto your arms, pulling you forward with him as he moved across the ice. 

You have pretty small arms to begin with, but his hands were huge and easily wrapped around your wrists, keeping you steady. He wasn’t half bad at ice skating, and you were a little impressed. 

“You’re pretty good at this!” you said. 

“Thanks! I played some hockey in high school. I’m a little rusty, though.”

He carefully let go of your arms, spinning around so that he could skate beside you. His long legs allowed him to easily set a fast pace, and you found yourself having to work a little to keep up with him. 

“Not fair! You’re taller, so I’m at a disadvantage!” you whined playfully. 

He stuck his tongue out, giving you a cheeky smile as he took off ahead of you. Not to be bested, you dug your blades into the ice, propelling yourself forward to catch up. 

You skated until your legs were about ready to fall off, having way too much fun to stop. Yunho was a formidable opponent, nearly skating in circles around you at times. It seemed like both of you had downplayed your skills a bit. “Rusty” my ass!

“Ahh, I’m so tired. I feel like I could eat an elephant,” you panted, hands on your knees, breath forming little clouds around your head. 

“Isn’t it ‘horse?’ Like, ‘I’m so hungry I could eat a horse?’”

“I guess that just means I’m really hungry. It sounded right in my head.” 

Yunho laughed, and his eyes scrunched up a little. He really reminded you of a giant human puppy. 

“Sorry if this is kinda sudden, but… I could make you something for dinner? I’m not much of a cook, but I make a mean frozen pizza.” He looked at you sheepishly, the corners of his mouth turning up into a shy smile. 

Your mouth watered a little at the idea of carbs. You really were starving, and Yunho seemed like a total sweetheart, so why not? 

He drove you back to his place, and got to work right away on the pizzas. He had you do the honors of picking the flavors, and you chose one with pepperoni and one with chicken and veggies. He made a big deal about being impressed with your exquisite taste in cuisine, but you’re pretty sure he was just being a dork again. 

You watched Friends on his couch while you ate, laughing with your mouth full of pizza on more than one occasion. He almost choked once, which made you laugh even harder. Every now and then he’d look over at you and smile, eyes bright and cheerful, and your heart would skip a beat just a little. He had to be the sweetest guy you’d ever met in your life. Like, he was practically a ray of sunshine on two legs. 

You helped him rinse off your plates in the sink after the episode finished, wanting to be a little helpful at least since he made you dinner and all. You accidentally splashed him at one point, and he declared war, getting payback by dipping his hand under the faucet stream and flicking droplets all across your face. You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut and laughing as drops of water assaulted your cheeks. 

You stumbled back a bit, and he moved his hands up to your waist, keeping you steady. When you opened your eyes, he was right in front of you, eyes flickering down to your lips. You placed your hands against the soft fabric over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your palms. Your heart fluttered a little, watching how his long eyelashes moved as he took in the details of your face from up close. His hands slid around to your back, gently holding you there. 

“You’re so cute. Can I kiss you?” Yunho said, tightening his hands around your waist, pulling you close against his body. His face was so close to yours, and you balled your hands up in his sweater and pulled him closer instead of answering with words. Everything about him was soft and warm, and you melted against his lips as he kissed you sweetly. 

When you were this close, it became apparent just how small you were next to him. He had to bend over to be able to reach you, and you stood on your tippy toes to gain some height. This worked a little, but it was still a bit of a pain on both ends. Suddenly, you yelped in surprise as you felt your feet leave the ground. With his large hands gripping your waist, he effortlessly lifted you up and set you onto the counter. 

Yunho laughed, guiding your legs around his waist as he went to kiss you again. It was easier that time, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you found a comfortable rhythm. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you welcomed it, eagerly reciprocating his motions. You felt his hands drop from your waist down to your thighs, giving them a sudden squeeze. 

“God,” Yunho said, pulling back from the kiss and leaning into your ear. “You’d look so cute choking on my cock.” 

A chill ran down your spine. His sudden change in attitude stunned you, and you gasped as he sank his teeth into your neck, leaving a bruise just beneath your jaw. Your legs involuntarily tightened around him, pulling his hips closer, and he took it as an invitation to pull you against his crotch. He kissed you again, but harder this time, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment. The room was suddenly much too hot. 

You fisted your hands in his hair, tugging it with your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth, squeezing your ass hard. You could feel his cock getting hard as he grinded his hips against yours, any shred of his gentle demeanor from earlier having gone right out the window. How the hell was this the same cute guy from earlier? 

His fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric of your sweater up to your chest. He yanked down one side of your bra and leaned down, his warm breath fanning over your breast. You couldn’t help the moans that spilled from your lips as he swirled his tongue in circular motions, flicking and sucking at your nipple. You cried out as he bit down, but despite the pain, your panties were starting to feel damp. 

He moved to the other side, pulling your bra down to do the same to the other nipple. That time, though, he ran a hand up your leg until it came to rest on your pussy, thumb rubbing circles over your clit on top of your leggings. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, overwhelmed by both sensations at once. He pulled back, removing his hands for a moment to pull your shirt all the way off and roughly threw it to the floor. He practically ripped your bra off, clearly not having it anymore. You held yourself up with your hands, lifting your ass up off the counter so that Yunho could slide your leggings and panties off, dropping them on the floor with the rest of your clothes.  

“Fuck, you look so good,” he said against your lips, pushing your legs farther apart. “Wanted this from the moment I saw you.”

He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, leaving bruises along your throat as he stopped to suck and bite at the skin. He continued licking down your chest and stomach, then settled down on his knees, moving your legs to rest on his shoulders. He licked along your inner thigh, teasingly slow, and he looked up at you with a smirk like he knew he was driving you crazy. 

You squirmed helplessly as he chomped down on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and it was clear he enjoyed dragging out this teasing as long as possible. 

“A-ah,” you said, half because of the pain, and finally, finally, he was dragging his tongue over the folds of your pussy. He gave his tongue a few swipes, then circled it around your clit, kissing and sucking on it with more intensity until he had you pushing your hips against his face for more. 

Just when you felt yourself starting to approach the brink of a climax, he pulled back, smiling devilishly. “Aw, sorry, did you want to cum?” 

You were too flabbergasted to speak, panting heavily as you looked down at his face between your legs. You were stuck somewhere between confused and angry, and still very horny. 

“You’re gonna have to earn it,” he said, punctuating the thought with a deceptively sweet peck. 

He grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up, and you scrambled to wrap your legs around him to keep from falling. He carried you to his room and tossed you into the bed, less than gentle about it, and quickly discarded his clothes. 

It was fairly dark in the room, with only the light from the hallway creeping in from the door, but you could clearly see the outline of his cock as it popped free from his boxers. You felt your jaw drop a little bit. Big? Fucking understatement. 

“Come here,” Yunho said, gesturing with his finger. “On your knees.”

You obeyed, and scooted off the bed and sank to your knees in front of him. You swallowed, feeling intimidated at the prospect of fitting all of that in your mouth. 

“Be a good girl for me and you’ll get to cum later, ok?” He looked down at you, his gaze dark. 

He cupped your chin in his hand, making you look up at him from your somewhat degrading position. You nodded, and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. 

You gave the tip of it a conservative lick, sucking lighty to test the waters. He made a noise in his throat, and you took it as encouragement to take more of it into your mouth. You opened wider, squeezing your eyes shut as you took in as much as you could without gagging. 

He only gave you a second to adjust before fisting his hand in your hair and shoving your head forward, making you gag as you took more than you could handle. You pulled back, gasping for air, but his hand was still tangled in your hair, forcing you back onto his cock. Your scalp stung as he moved your head back and forth, and you did your best not to choke as the tip hit the back of your throat again and again. 

“That’s good, baby,” he moaned. “Fuck, yeah, take it all.”

There were tears streaming down your face as you fought hard against your gag reflex, and you focused on breathing through your nose for air. Finally he let you go, and you pulled off, breathing hard, bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away the tears.

He brought both hands up to your face, caressing your hair and brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones, helping to wipe away the wetness. You were sure you looked wrecked, with swollen lips and mascara smeared to all hell across your face. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty. I wanna make you mine so bad.” Yunho guided you up, having you sit on the edge of the bed. He kneeled in front of you once again, and shoved your legs apart, forcing you to fall back clumsily onto the bed. 

He ate you out again, more hungrily this time, and you really hoped he planned on following through with his promise. He slid one of his long fingers into you, twisting and crooking it, making lewd wet sounds as he used it to fuck you. He slid it out, and dipped his tongue into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue as he used his thumb to play with your clit. He didn’t relent, going harder as he sensed you were getting close, and you couldn’t stop the way your hips instinctively bucked up onto his face as the pleasure overwhelmed your whole body. 

“F-fuck, Yunho!” you cried, hips twitching and arching up off the bed as you came. Your legs felt shaky, and you needed a second to take a breather, but Yunho was straddling you, trapping you with his body against the bed, bringing a hand up and squeezing it around your throat. He placed a finger up to your lips--the one that had been inside you--and pushed it into your mouth, running it along your tongue. You instinctively sealed your lips around it, meeting his lusty gaze as you sucked it clean. 

The way he was looking at you was kind of scary, eyes fixed on your lips and hand getting tighter around your throat. You coughed as breathing started to get difficult, and he let go of you, hopping off the bed. 

He grabbed both of your ankles and flipped you over, making you land breathlessly on your stomach. You could hear his footsteps as he walked somewhere in the room, then came the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and in a moment he was straddling you from behind, tearing open a condom and rolling it onto his cock. 

He grabbed your hips and roughly yanked you up, backing your ass into him and making you sit on all fours. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he gritted, digging his nails into your ass as he lined himself up with your pussy. With hardly any warning, he pushed his cock in, and the size of it nearly made you scream. Yunho groaned as it entered you, pushing until it was in all the way. You couldn’t help any of the sounds you were making, it was all too overwhelming in that moment. 

He started thrusting slowly at first, but the thrusts quickly grew faster and harder, pounding you so hard you could barely breathe. And then you really couldn’t breathe--his hand had come up and clenched over your throat, cutting off your screams. His other hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back with a choked cry. All concept of pain or pleasure sort of started to fade away, your vision going fuzzy and your ears ringing over the sound of him fucking you. 

For a second you thought you might actually pass out, but luckily he let go just in time. You gasped for air, hands fisting into the sheets. Yunho grabbed onto your hip bones with almost bruising force, digging his nails in as he came, spitting profanities as he gave one last hard thrust. 

You collapsed to the bed, limbs feeling totally useless. Your back was drenched in sweat--whose it was, you weren’t really sure--and you felt like you could probably sleep for ten years or so. Yunho left the room for a second, then came back with a towel. He ran it along your back and your legs, wiping up the sweat and whatever other body fluids were present, placing gentle kisses along your shoulder as he did so. 

He ran his hands through your hair, combing out the tangles, and it was soothing enough to push you over the edge of exhaustion into the realm of sleep. As you drifted off, you could feel Yunho wrap his arms around you, his warm skin pressing against yours underneath the blanket. Like a switch, he went back to being the sweet person you had met earlier at the lake. Like he hadn’t just done some kind of Jekyll and Hyde kind of shit. 

As you fell asleep, you could only vaguely form one coherent thought.

What the fuck just happened?

[official-weasley]

Headcanon time! (Part 3)

So @am-i-space and I have been talking about dragons (as one normally does on a Sunday afternoon) and of course, our imagination went wild! Now, we know that our dragon lover works in Romania and we have learned about a few species (even seen a few of them in movies without Charlie but okay let's not discuss that here) of dragons but like, let's face it there are more!

The second I have learned about other schools and that they have dragons guarding the vaults in Gringotts I had a HC that the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary isn't the only one!

I can see one being in Canada, somewhere high up in the mountains and the same goes for South America. Of course, one would also be somewhere in the Himalayas. And let's face it the breeds we have all grown to love aren't the only ones!

Of course, Charles Weasley agrees with us 110% and after working in the Sanctuary for 10-15 years he takes a bit of a breather (not from dragons, of course) and travels the world in the hopes to see as many of them as he can. He borrows dad's camera (the one Bill got for him in my other HC where they go and see alpacas) and he starts his adventure.

So, let's start with the sea! I agree with @am-i-space like what do we know about oceans, really? Bloody nothing, that's what! So they proposed that there are water dragons and I am 100% on board with that. Just imagine them swimming around, ever so gracefully, blowing bubbles when they breathe! And they would have the most beautiful scales which would reflect in the sun ranging from dark green to purple and blue and even though they are BIG they are friendly and swim with the dolphins and communicate with whales.

Nobody will convince me that when Charlie goes to observe this beautiful behavior and hears the water dragons sing their mating song for the first time he doesn't cry his eyes out because he can swear that he has never heard such a beautiful sound before and would never get tired of it and is honestly thinking about moving in the middle of the ocean so he could wake up to those sounds every morning.

The next stop on his journey would be to find out if the rumors about ice dragons are true. Charlie, as smart as he is, knew that the most probable location to see if they are real would be the Himalayas. So he wrote to the Himalayan Sanctuary to stay there for a couple of weeks to explore in peace. The dragonologists he talked to there all said that they have given up hope to see one and that despite the rumors that they are hiding one in their reserve they had to disappoint him because they don't have it.

So Charlie put on the hat, the scarf, and the gloves (he knitted himself thank you very much!) and headed out, determined that he will find the ice dragon!

After about a week of hiking and his muscles aching, he began to lose hope to see one. He knew that he would need more time and that he would be ridiculously lucky to see one in such a short amount of time but he also knew that he has to take care of himself and put his health first so he headed back.

A day in, he heard something that sounded like a cry for help. It was in dangerous territory and he probably shouldn't go there but it really sounded like a baby dragon and there won't be a day in his life where Charlie Weasley wouldn't help a dragon in need.

He gasped when he came to the spot the cries were coming from. He saw something white and silver move in a huge pile of snow which looked like an aftermath of an avalanche. He hurried to see what was making the sounds and if the creature was okay at once.

The second he started to remove the snow around the creature he knew he has found one - an ice dragon! The baby dragon was frightened and looked at Charlie with appreciative eyes when he picked him up and started to look around to where this little guy could come from.

He remembered that baby dragons are really good at finding their way back to their mothers so once he brought the cub to safety he put him down and observed his behavior.

When his little ice friend stopped being disoriented he started crying again and howling toward the nearby mountain.

"Of course!" Charlie pressed his hand on his forehead and shook his head. Of course, the reason he couldn't find an ice dragon before, was because they live on the highest loneliest peeks.

Charlie was looking up at the one in front of him, thinking how in the bloody hell is he supposed to get up there with all his gear, tired muscles, and a baby dragon to top it all off!

Then he remembered that while it might not be humanly possible, a bit of magic could do the trick! He gently tied the little guy to his bag and took out his wand. He walked to the bottom of the mountain and then he cast the levitation charm on himself.

Every time he saw a platform that looked stable enough to stand on he stopped to take a few breaths and see how his friend was doing. The higher they got the more cheerful the little one got and Charlie knew they were getting closer.

Charlie put his wand away when they landed in front of what looked like a cave. Charlie gently untied the dragon and put him on the ground. The dragon let out the cutest little roar that made Charlie's heart melt and the ground beneath them started to shake.

Charlie gulped and didn't find his idea to return the dragon back home smart anymore when a gigantic version of his white-silver friend appeared in front of him. The dragon mother looked mad but cautious. The cub ran to her - trying his hardest to fly - and started making purring noises. The ice dragon momma sniffed her baby and then sniffed Charlie which was the coldest breath he has ever felt on his skin.

After she was done, he ushered her cub inside, and with a wiggle of his tail at Charlie, his ice friend disappeared inside the cave. Once his mother made sure he was safe, she turned back to Charlie and roared right in his face.

Charlie, who was used to dragons do that every day back in Romania, didn't even blink. His calm composure impressed the ice dragon and she carefully turned around and lowered herself to the ground.

Charlie knew what she was doing but still couldn't believe it! The dragon is going to let him fly on her! He was only so lucky 2 times with the dragons in the Sanctuary and they knew him for years and this one was just patiently waiting for him to get ready as if he was here every day.

The second Charlie stroked the cold silver scales on her back, the dragon started fluttering her wings, and before Charlie had a chance to gasp they were in the air - making a full circle around the dragon's home and then slowly losing altitude until they were at the bottom of the mountain.

Charlie thanked the dragon and apologized for not having anything for her to eat while the ice mother replied with breathing icy cold air straight into Charlie's face. He was observing her flying back up to her cub and he knew that he could take a picture of her but since nobody knew they were here and were probably pretty rare he decided to just keep the memory of the experience close to his heart and returned to the Sanctuary.

The last stop of his - so far absolute epic adventure - was the Sanctuary in South America which was hidden deep in the Andes mountain range. There he met a few very exotic species of dragons who reminded him a lot of the Welsh Greens he took after in Romania except that these were of all sorts of colors from red to violet.

After the tour of the reserve, 2 of the Dragonologists took him to what looked like a highly protected and secluded habitat and told him that they only share this information with other dragonologists.

Charlie was excited to see what they are hiding but he wasn't prepared for what he saw once they got there. It was a storm dragon - sky blue with a white mane.

"But I thought they were extinct." Was all Charlie managed to say before approaching the beautiful creature to fully take in what was resting in front of him.

The two dragonologists told him that he is the last of its kind and that he must be protected at all costs until his very last breath which hopefully the day that happens is still very very far away.

Charlie's 2 new friends allowed him to spend a few hours with the mighty beast and as he was sitting there, studying it, Charlie couldn't believe that all his dreams were coming true.

The next day when he was having dinner in a nearby restaurant he heard some of the locals there whisper about a creature called el chupacabra. He has heard of the creature before - mostly when he read Muggle folklore. However, these people weren't describing a dog-like creature. No! It sounded like they were talking about dragons except that they described the creature as fairly small and surely no breed of a dragon is that small?

Because this information didn't allow Charles Weasley the dragon lover (not obsessor, only lover) to sleep at night he decided to venture into the Amazonian rainforest and see the creature for himself.

He was only walking for 5 hours this time around when he heard unusual squeaking noises. They led him to a meadow that appeared to be empty at first. Because he was parched, he sat down at the edge of it, took off his backpack, drank some water, and unwrapped a sandwich he prepared in the morning.

The second the smell of his delicious meal spread he saw a few heads poke out of the tall grass. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes! They were dragons and the locals were right - they were so small! More and more dragons started to approach him and at this point, Charlie started to think he was in heaven because this was too good to be true.

They appeared to be friendly and awfully playful. He was also in awe by their size as some were as small as crup puppies while the biggest was about to his waist in height.

Charlie had no choice but to share his sandwich for which he was rewarded with licks and wiggling tails. These dragons didn't breathe fire as Charlie expected but big puffs of air that soothed him in this Amazonian heat. They came in all sorts of colors from different hues of green and brown and some were even yellow and orange.

They were absolutely beautiful and even though they had the structure of most dragons there was something about them that Charlie couldn't wrap his mind about. He narrowed his eyes and observed one for solid 5 minutes before he figured it out.

They had a fluffball of hair on the top of their heads making them the only breed Charlie has ever laid his eyes on to have fur and it made them extra adorable!

He spent the rest of his afternoon chasing and playing with the fluffs (as he called them) and because he was having so much fun he forgot about the time, making him almost spend the night in the jungle.

As he was returning he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading from one of his ears to the other as he deemed his adventure more than successful and he couldn't wait to take another breather like this because he is sure that there are even more breeds out there to see and admire!

[vixenpen]

Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍♀️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”

[vagrantblvrd]

You guys know what?

Modern AU idea thingy where Din finally gets to meet Luke’s biker gang and yet somehow still thinks Luke killed a guy once and is on the run from the law after meeting those idiots???

Din meets them after he and Luke have been dating a while - officially dating, that is.

Not that confusing period of time where Din things like Din thinking Luke was inviting him out to watch a movie they both wanted to see because friends do that kind of thing, don’t they? And if they both realized they’d skipped lunch - Din had to deal with a stubborn kitchen sink leaking in one of the units, and Luke got suckered into talking about him teaching classes at her gym outside of the ones she let him and Obi-Wan hold there for their kids, for paying customers of hers.

Anyway, Luke knew a place nearby, if Din doesn’t have to get back to Grogu yet, and other such shenanigans.

Those times Luke thought Din was asking a buddy to keep him company at the some event or other with Grogu’s daycare/school, and you would not believe the amount of pictures Luke has saved on his phone of Grogu dressed as a sunflower, or the frog that one time, and Din is like, dying, because Luke is exactly his kind of idiot and anyway.

They cleared that one up and have been dating for a few months when Din goes to Luke’s to see him sitting on his couch with this look on his face. The kind of look you see on people in the movies when some important historical landmark is destroyed in front of them by invading aliens or they’ve somehow managed to survive Black Friday.

(Din was in the fucking trenches okay, worked retail for a while way back when, worked for a damned toy store, he has seen hell and lived to tell the tale.)

“Luke?”

Luke looks at Din, which is when Din sees Luke’s holding his phone. Thinks he got bad news? Maybe his family on the other coast, the one he struggles with sometimes, wants to share with Din because he loves them and he loves Din, but.

Complicated.

Din sits next to Luke, watches him carefully. Doesn’t want to push him, spook him, Telegraphs his intent when he takes Luke’s phone out of his hand and puts it on the coffee table, takes Luke’s hand in his and squeezes.

“Is something wrong?”

It takes a moment, but then Luke blinks, comes back from wherever he went -

“What?” he asks, and seems to realize that oh, hey, Din’s there. “Oh, uh. No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Kind of blurts out that last bit, and realizes it gives him and his current mental state away because he winces, gives Din this wobbly little smile.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says again, Din closer to believing it, that vise around his heart loosening -

“Wedge and the others want to meet you.”

Luke’s just blurting things out again, but it’s fine because Din is like !!! and also !!!

"Oh?” he says, because it’s obvious from what Luke’s told him about them that Luke also loves his very stupid, very dumb friends who ride motorcycles and are in a gang that have matching tattoos and jackets and patches and who knows what else, but murder is a a very real possibility. “When?”

Luke gives Din a look, because it’s kind of a joke between them now, the thing where Din thinks Luke killed a man once and is on the run from the law, but it also kind of isn’t, because Din.

“I promise you won’t have help them hide any bodies,” Luke says, which is great because Luke’s the only one Din will help when it comes to hiding bodies

(Well, and Grogu, obviously. Possibly Cara, but really only because she would be carrying the body with her and the neighbors might see, and anyway, yes.)

Din finds out Biggs and Wedge and the others do this thing once, maybe twice if things are going well for them, a year. Take a couple of weeks off to hop on their bikes and go on a road trip. Usually there’s a biker convention/gathering on the other end of the road trip, but this year?

Luke’s told them so much about Din and Grogu and this happy little life he’s built for himself out here they just absolutely have to check things out for themselves, you know? Make sure Luke’s okay, that Din is treating him right - Luke rolls his eyes as he tells Din about that part because he can take care of himself, and they know it, but still.

Anyway, this year they’re coming to see Luke, will be by in a few weeks, and sorry to freak Din out, but they can be a bit much, sometimes?

Anyway, anyway.

Din is quietly !!! about Luke’s old biker gang coming by to vet him. Like, the thing about not having a squeaky clean past, but he’s kind of a do-gooder.

(Boba thinks it’s hilarious the way people who come to his shop are wary around Din like he’s not the biggest softy in the world - look at how he dotes on his kid, you know? Also, marshmallow, but yeah, fine, bad boy you wouldn’t want to take home to mom, whatever.)

He almost, almost forgets about the upcoming visit, but then there’s a day he’s down at Boba’s shop. Picked Grogu up from daycare/school and dropped by to talk about covering for some of Boba’s people the next week when they hear bikes coming down the street.

Nothing to worry about because Boba’s bike shop? Place where bikes are taken to fixed and whatnot???

Only, huh, sure does seem to be a lot of bikes, you know? A lot of bikes all at once, even. And just as Boba gets this annoyed look on his face about the racket, Din gets a text from Luke.

Ignores Boba going out to see what all the commotion is when it stops outside of the shop and checks the text to see a simple, chilling message: we’re outside

He gets an equally shilling message a few seconds later: :DDDDDDDDDDDD

Din is like !!! because, well, that explains the bikes outside? But Boba yelling to Din there’s a biker gang outside that wants to meet him is also a clue, so.

Din looks over to where Grogu was quietly playing with his toys and is like oh, no, because Grogu is gone and Boba left the door open and he runs out to find him.

Not worried about Luke’s biker gang because Luke loves those idiots and anyone he loves that much can’t be bad, but his kid, okay, his kid is a goddamned terror.

Looks cute as hell, but even Luke agrees about Grogu being a terror.

(That whole thing about taking one to know one, Din assumes.)

When Din gets outside it’s to Boba giving him a look before he goes back inside to wrangle paperwork.

Grogu is sitting in front of Luke on his bike, and Grogu is now sporting a tiny bike helmet with the starbirds on either side that looks like Luke’s tattoo.

Also?

A tiny jacket that matches the one Luke wears sometimes when he’s riding his bike, that the other bikers surrounding Luke are wearing and Din is like.

His heart because that shit’s adorable as hell? But also, oh, no, his kid’s going to be in a biker gang like Luke and Din’s going to have to help them hide so many bodies. :(((((((((

And then it’s Luke introducing Din to his friends (also people who helped Luke and his family unravel this major conspiracy that went on for over twenty years and was on the news for forever and also everyone but Din seems to be aware of, but yeah) who are all :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD when Luke’s around to run interference, but the moment Luke’s out of the room and whatnot?

Wedge is a high-ranking military officer, as are most of the gang, and they have their own connections who wouldn’t rat them out to Luke if Din does something to hurt Luke, you know.

Just putting that out there, friend. :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD

(Like, hey. Arguments and shit, they happen. But do something to break his heart, and he’ll have them to deal with, forget Leia and the others.)

But also, also.

They do like him, think it’s hilarious he thinks they’re a bunch of hardcore bikers or whatever, you know? They just happen to share a love of bikes, and friendship with Luke who they are super protective of, and also adore the hell of Grogu, as much as he adores them.

Also, though, also?

Din riding with Luke and Grogu goes with Wedge - “Din, relax. He’s as safe as he would be with me.” - on a ride on the roads outside of the city.

Gorgeous views and when they hit a wide open stretch of road they can see down for miles the others show off a little, switch positions and the whatnot so smoothly it’s obvious they’ve been riding together for years, know one another and how they think, react and so on.

Wedge and Grogu pull up alongside Luke and Din, and friendly insults are tossed back and forth and then Wedge guns it, and Luke glances back at Din, like are they really going to let him get away with that?

Which, no. No they are not, and then it’s this race between them, the rest of the Luke’s little biker gang (family) fanned out behind them.

Wedge and Grogu win of course, because Luke’s bike is carrying two full grown men while Wedge’s is carrying a tiny child and also Grogu.

Still, looking at the look on Grogu’s face, that huge, huge smile as Luke’s old biker gang high fives him and pats him on the back, the way Wedge puts him up on his shoulders and floats the idea of them teaming up from then on since he’s good luck -

Din could maybe understand if Luke would have let them win anyway.

But also, also, there being a lake or something out there where they decide to camp for a few days, Have tents set up and a barbecue pits and bonfire going, Grogu learning teaching Wedge and the others the correct way to roast marshmallows and build the perfect s’more while Din and Luke go for a last spin around the lake before it gets too late. Stop on a little rise over lookig the lake, smile at the boonfire on the other side, laughter drifting over the water to them and it’s like.

Din can’t be expected not to kiss Luke, you know? Pull Luke’s helmet off and smile at how happy he looks, lit up with it, and the worst case of helme hair Din has seen in his entire damn life -

“Rude, hurtful,” Luke accuses, but he’s laughing, and happy, and anyway.

Din kisses him, because he can’t not, and Luke seems to be on board with that whole line of thought because they do that for a while.

Don’t stop until their phones buzz at the same time - and Din has no idea how Wedge got his phone number, but the picture he sent him and Luke of Grogu about to shove a truly impressive multi-level s’more in his mouth while the others cheer him on is both adorable and horrifying.

“Oh my God,” Luke says, having the same realization as Din that a Grogu powered by that much sugar would surely be unstoppable.

They get to the others too late to stop things, of course they do, but it’s almost - almsot - worth it to see Wedge and the others being terrified by Grogu in the throes of major sugar rush.

The two of them certainly get excellent video of the whole disaster that will kep their black little hearts warm though the coldest, bitterest of winters.

While Grogu traumatizes Luke’s old biker gang Luke tells Din how they all met.

Luke who was this weird kid who’d made friends with Biggs right? Neither of them remember how that happened, assumed it came of growing up togehe i the same small town and such.

And then Biggs met Wedge and the others through school or something, college, and Luke came out to visit one summer. Had just finished fixing up his dad’s old bike and wanted to show Biggs, you know?

Wedge and the others impressed because Luke’s dad had good taste in bikes, and hey want to come up in a couple of weeks for this road trip they do?

Luke kind of figures it’s them being polite because he’s Bigg’s friend from back home, little brother kind of deal, but he really wants to go on the ride they tell him about.

Problem is, when he goes out to see them a few weeks later Biggs is in an accident, small one, not seriously hurt or anything, but his bike is going to be out of commission for a while and Biggs needs to take it easy until he heals up.

Luke was like, oh, man, that sucks, but at least Biggs is going to be okay, you know? Figures he and Biggs will hang out, maybe work on his bike while the others go on the road trip?

But Biggs and the others are like, no, dummy, they want you on the ride, go have fun!

Be young and stupid and do something that will convince the future love of your life that you killed a man and are on the run from the law!!1!

“...Something tells me that’s not what they said to you,” Din says.

Luke shrugs admits he’s paraphrasing things, but that’s the general drift.

Anyway, he gets to be friends with Wedge and the others, enough that they are like, 100% on board that one time they found out someone was to kill Luke and his family and the thing where his dad - and conequently Luke’s family - has been tangled up in a decades old conspiracy that involves world leaders and the safety of the entire world, and really.

“I met them a few months before all that happened,” Luke says, like he still doesn’t get why his friends would want to get involved, help him. “but we couldn’t have done it without them.”

Din still doesn’t know the whole story about that, whatever affected Luke so strongly he literally wandered the country for a while, a year, maybe more, it’s hard to tell, before he went to visit an old family friend in Obi-Wan and finally settled somewhere longer than a few weeks for the first time in years.

But he can wait until Luke tells him, if he ever does. Din doesn’t care about knowing the details, just enough to look after Luke when the idiot won’t do it for himself.

And it’s why Din lets Wedge and the others posture, let them threaten him and all that because they’re doing it to look out for Luke even now, know he’s the kind of idiot who won’t bother for himself.

He’s a little concerned at the way they’re obviously out to recruit his kid into their gang, which.

The bodies? But also Grogu would be safe with them, and that’s like. Strangely reassuring.

Still, his kid is years away from getting his license so he has some time to convince him he doesn’t want to be in a biker gang.

So of course, of course Wedge and the others have to make it harder for Din to do that when the next time Grogu’s ready to move up a bike size they send him a present.

Claim it’s to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases they missed before getting to meet Grogu in person.

It’s  bike, yes. One that will grow with Grogu through the next several growth spurts, but?

It’s painted in the gang’s colors, has starbirds on it. Little goggles to replace the ones Wedge gave him the first time they came to visit, the strap worn through from Grogu handling them so much. A new helmet with the starbirds, and a tally mark for the race he won with Wedge, Luke explains, grin in his voice and apologetic shrug for Din because his friends, okay. Kind of impossible.

So far there’s just the one, but there’s space for more and Din is like. *SIGH* at the thought of his kid with a biker gang, even if it’s Luke’s old biker gang and they’re all idiots, just.

*SIGH*

[ko-fanatic]

Are You Going To Destroy It? (Part one)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary: Ishimaru is supposed to be perfect. He gets perfect grades, enforces the rules as hall monitor, and then goes home to care for his ailing grandfather while his father works long hours to support the three of them. But the simple fact is he's not perfect, and everything is unravelling his mental state more and more. Being forced to care for the man who ruined his life isn't helping.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, extreme bullying, self-harm, homicidal thoughts, family issues, mental health issues

Author’s note: Heavily inspired by Zankyou no Terror. Taka's storyline can be seen as an AU, but Daiya and Mondo aren't terrorists. Also, as a disclaimer: If you are aware someone is suicidal, DO NOT leave them alone. Mondo is just a kid, and doesn't know better, but now you do. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out.

For all Kiyotaka loved school, it could be hell. 

He was drawn to learning, to pleasing his teachers, following the rules… But the same could not be said for those times of day where he was offered no protection. Before school, breaktime, lunchtime, and after school. Those were torture.

“C’mon, Taka,” One of the boys by his side grinned wolfishly, arm slung around his shoulders in some faux-friendly action, when in reality it was simply to keep him from leaving. 

Had he expected any different when he was accosted and all but dragged to the pool behind the school building? Honestly, no. However, despite the probability that he could fight the boys off and run home, he… was tired. Too tired to push out of their grips and run yet again. 

Too tired to go home. 

Hence, here he stood, shoved to stand on one of the diving blocks - still in his full uniform - his classmates looming over him like vultures.

“Why don’t you go for a little dip?” The boy laughed as Kiyotaka resolutely stared out at the glistening water, so crisp and clear in the afternoon sun, “And then, well, not come up again.”

Ah, telling him to kill himself, yet again. They’d done this dance before (or was that another classmate? Their faces blur). He’d be lying, to say he hadn’t thought of it. Despite the utter terror that last instance had incited, razor blades thrown at him with jeering taunts to go cut up his arms some more, this is another level of intimidation. 

So painfully close to casual. 

“It’s what a filthy Ishimaru like you deserves.”

He was right about that, he supposed. Some time ago, he would’ve held his head up high and asserted that, yes, he is an Ishimaru, but he was going to fix his family’s reputation. He would drag his name out of the mud, and make it all better. 

Now, he just wants the exhaustion to end. 

“It’ll be just like falling asleep.”

The sentence rang over and over in his head, so similar to ones he’d thought on countless occasions; clutching bottles upon bottles of his grandfather’s pills, staring at the open blades of a pair of scissors, at the length of rope in the rotting garden shed that could easily be tied into a noose. 

And God, did he just want to sleep.

His body leant forward, without explicit permission but he had no will to stop himself, eyes closing as he awaited the burning sensation that comes with breathing chlorinated water -

“CANONBALL!!”

The yell was loud, startling all of them at the poolside, and accompanied with a large splash. Kiyotaka and his classmates got soaked with the tidal wave of water that had been dispersed, and Kiyotaka’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the cause of the disturbance. 

A handsome boy was in the pool, grinning ear to ear after his impressive dive from the roof above. His bleach blonde hair hung down in sopping ringlets, dishevelled out of whatever style it’d had before. His pretty, almost lilac eyes were heavily ringed in smudged, dripping eyeliner, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

“‘S too warm to stay poolside, guys!” The boy smirked, swimming up to them as Kiyotaka could only watch in confusion. Assumedly, his classmates were also dumbfounded, considering the utter silence that seemed to envelop them all like a thick fog.

That was when the boy grabbed him by the leg, pulling him into the water but never letting his head dip below. He wasn’t dragging him under to drown, wrapped in a cool embrace like his mind and peers had whispered to him over and over again. No, this seemed… friendly. Like the adolescents in the media, who play and rough-house, yet never want any harm to come to each other. 

He was still in the boy’s arms, head static and floating above his shoulders, reality a haze. He swore he could hear his classmates say something, though he doesn’t know what, and when he looked back they were gone. 

“Hey,” The boy smiled, much more subtle and subdued than the grin he’d previously flashed. Kiyotaka was lifted a little higher, placed gently on the side of the pool, his head lowered and rivulets of water running down from his short hair. 

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, “The things some assholes do… But you’re safe right now, yeah?”

He didn’t speak. He never spoke. 

“Sorry I pulled ya into the water,” The other spoke once more, leaning on one toned arm as the other scratched at the back of his mop of hair, “Thought I should put some distance between ya ‘nd those guys, and that was the first thing I thought of. Didn’t really wanna cause a fight with you in the middle, looking so out of it -”

“I’m -” Kiyotaka began, voice hoarse and so soft, quiet, and he paused to clear his throat, “I’m fine… Used to it, I suppose…”

“Well, then that’s not really fine, right?” The other posed, like it was the simplest thing in the world, “Name’s Mondo. What’s yours?”

He looked down at his uniform, thumbing the seam of his blazer sleeve, a million thoughts running across his mind but without any substance to actually grab hold of one. As noncoporial as a spirit.

“I… Kiyotaka Ishimaru…” He hesitantly put forward, his name feeling like molasses in his mouth, gluing to his teeth and oozing between his lips, “Thank you for helping me, Mondo-kun.”

It feels right, to thank him. Or, not right, but proper. A thing one should do. He cares a whole lot for propriety, has to, and the instinct kicks in fast. Mondo simply looks amused. 

“Ya don’t need to bother with honorifics, it’s cool,” He waves off, and a small pang in Kiyotaka’s chest murmurs ‘ah, to be so casual’. 

He’ll never be able to do something like that, because he’ll never have a friend to be casual with. He’s not being morose when he thinks that, either; at this point in his life, despite being just a few months shy of his fifteenth birthday, he knows that as empirical fact. He’s unlikeable, plain and simple, exemplified by his classmates attempting to gode him into suicide. 

That must mean he’s a special kind of hateful. 

Mondo looks up, then, at the roof. A man with dark hair stands at the railing, arm casually slung over the side, watching the pair of them from his vantage point. Something in Kiyotaka’s chest shrinks, but Mondo is quick to assure him. 

“My brother,” Is his simple explanation, “Are you… gonna be alright to get home? By yourself, I mean?”

The thought of going home makes him flinch. The soulless eyes, staring at the wall as he gives his near-catatonic grandfather his bath, feeds him his dinner spoonful by spoonful, gives him his meds and forces him to swallow. So helpless, dependent, pathetic…

An evil part of him screams to just hold him under the water, wrap his hands around the old man’s throat, give him too many pills at once. Because, for God’s sake, this man ruined his life before it began, and it’d be so easy to take him out. Like an old dog that has outlived its use, out behind the garden shed -

He cuts off those thoughts there. He’s truly a vile person. 

“It’s fine,” He lies, because it isn’t. He doesn’t know who he’ll snap and kill first, himself or his grandfather, and he still wants nothing more than to lay down in the water and breathe until his lungs give in.

“If you’re certain,” Mondo hesitates, looking like he wants to say more, but instead he just pulled himself out of the pool, “I should probably get back to my brother. Still, though, if those idiots come after you again… I ain’t usually one to agree with being a narc, but some things are just way too much.”

He nods, though his heart isn’t in it. 

“See ya around, Taka!” Mondo grins, giving a mock salute as he walks off. 

Nothing’s stopping him from shuffling off the tile, going down into the depths of the water and laying at the very bottom until the staff come by tomorrow morning. But he doesn’t. He’s not sure why he doesn’t, but he stands and walks out the pool gate, dripping water onto the concrete of the pavement and drawing odd stares as he treks home. 

Taka, he thinks, I like that.