#he would simply urge it along by his own hand. why sit around. i'll do it myself.

[nobully]

shunt and strike! (with his cane. teehee.)

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 shunt .   shove  my  muse  backwards . strike .   my muse in the face (with his cane)

"One bag."

"Xerxes, no."

"Nobody would know."

"Zhilan would kill me?"

"That would be a very tragic problem," Xerxes Break folded his hands over his cane with a smile, glimpses of his single eye curving into a crescent behind his hair. "for you, that is."

"..."

Wang Yi slowly clenches his fist. Unclenches it. Rests his hand on the handlebars before him and takes a deep breath.

"Then it's a good thing I'm the one piloting this thing, aren't I?" Leaning forward, he pushes the man in the wheelchair past the enticing scents of the candy store and next door into...a soup and salad bar.

***

Twenty minutes later, the formerly fearsome wielder of Mad Hatter finds himself sitting at a table and staring with the first flickers of anger at the contents of his bowl. Not that he can see it, but swirling the spoon around had already told him enough.

"What is this?" he demands testily to the pink-haired man across him.

Wang Yi finishes crunching his iceberg lettuce. "Soup."

"I know that, but why is it in front of me?"

"Because it's lunchtime," Wang Yi says simply. "Look, it's liquid—you don't even have to chew—"

"It doesn't make a difference what my teeth do," Break replies testily, "when my stomach is the one with the problem."

And that's the crux of things, isn't it? Break hates food—or rather, has trouble keeping it down, but he can't just eat candy all day. He's been taking bits and pieces at home, but a mouse probably eats more than he does in one sitting and no one (not even Zhilan and his ever-winsome personality) can really make a dent of difference about that.

So Wang Yi takes Break on a field trip.

An approved kidnapping more like, managed with a rented wheelchair that he urges Break into because 1) it'd be faster and 2) hey, he wouldn't have to do any work. Break looks awfully thin in the chair too, but it's something neither of them comments on because Break will kill him and Wang Yi has better things to die for, and so they manage to get along just fine for the first few blocks.

Back in the restaurant, Wang Yi sets aside his fork and raises a hand. ' Check, please. '

Break arches an eyebrow. "Oh, are we leaving already?"

' You have better things to do with your day than fight with soup, ' Wang Yi points out.

"Such as seeing all the ways you bend over backwards twisting your words to appeal to me?"

' Whatever works, ' Wang Yi shrugs and smiles at the waiter coming to their table. ' Hi, can we also get the soup to go, please? '

"I'm not going to drink this at home either."

' What, like I can't? It's good soup, I'll take it if you don't want it. '

Break shoots him another look, Wang Yi laughs, the soup is packed and the bill paid. See? Everything is fine.

***

Everything is not fine.

Xerxes Break pinches the half-bitten sugared bittermelon between his hands with something akin to fascinated disgust before waving it in Wang Yi's face.

"What is this abomination."

Wang Yi finishes chewing on his sugared burdock root. ' It's candy? '

"It is not."

' Yeah, it's a little healthier than that, I think. Plenty of sugar though—isn't that what you like? '

"It doesn't matter how much sugar you put if it still tastes bitter afterwards!"

Break drops the candied vegetable back in the box and Wang Yi takes the chance to peek at his other options: ginger, orange peel, and radish. ' That's because your box kinda sucks, ' he says matter-of-factly. ' Here, have a tomato from mine—they're pretty good, no funny aftertaste. '

He picks up a piece but Break beats him to it, using his cane to hook the inside of Wang Yi's box and dragging it to his side of the table.

' Hey, what gives—? '

"You said my box sucks, so we can just skip the hassle and trade," Break explains matter-of-factly while pushing his own over. He dips confidently into Wang Yi's box, picks up a piece of mystery satozuke, and pops it in his mouth. Like the other one, it's chewy, but satisfyingly sweet with no weird flavors, though still disappointingly just a carrot. He's mollified, but just barely. "Why would anyone spend time coating vegetables in these..."

' Tomatoes aren't vegetables, ' Wang Yi points out.

Break wants to shut him up.

***

They end their day of impromptu food tours (no candy, in Break's case) and sightseeing (sight-speaking, in Wang Yi's case) in front of the same sweets store they passed that morning. This time they're both walking on their own feet, Break having abandoned the wheelchair a while back after getting sick of sitting in it. He stops as soon as the smell of sugar wafts over his face, nearly causing Wang Yi to trip over him and drop all the bags of snacks and samples they'd gathered throughout the day.

' Xerxes, ' Wang Yi begins when he realizes why they've stopped. He reaches for the man's arm. ' Don't—oof! '

Break shoves him back none-too-gently and crosses his arms, irritation written all over his face. "I've been going along with your terrible shop decisions to taste all manner of manufactured nightmares. It's about time I get something I'll actually appreciate, don't you think?"

' Zhilan said neither of us are taking a step in a candy store today so—hey! Put that down! ' Wang Yi leans back as Break suddenly raises his cane at him. ' Listen to me—ouch! ' He gets thwacked on both shoulders.

"Then you should've picked a route without the store," Break scolds him. "Even I can see that." And I'm blind. Idiot.

' Well that's because— ' This is the closest route to the bus stop and—Wang Yi pauses as the cane raises itself again and finally drops his bags to reach inside his pockets. ' Dammit Xerxes, I already bought them for you! '

A small cloth bag of candy almost hits Break in the chest before he catches it with pure instinct. He can't see its contents, but the smell of strawberry is obvious enough in the air. Digging in, he unwraps one from its wrapper and pops it into his mouth. Delicious. Wang Yi gets an appraising look in turn. "Since when?" After all, they'd been together for the entire day.

' Obviously I bought it yesterday! Loopholes exist, you know. ' Wang Yi says, and Break can already hear the scowl. He doesn't appreciate the dig at his intelligence though, so the butt of his cane darts forward to smack Wang Yi precisely in the center of his forehead.

' Ow! '

"It's what you deserve," Break huffs as he pockets the offering in his pockets and turns around, cane tapping against the ground in a brisker, more cheerful pace. "Come along, we're running late." He still wanted to be home before Zhilan returned from the library.

' Oh, so you were keeping track of time, ' Wang Yi grumbles as he bends down to pick up their bags.

"Your constant glancing at your phone was obvious enough."

' How did you see that? '

"You were so noisy about it I didn't even have to look."

' That's...pretty neat, actually. '

Whatever the case, the day is done. It would've been better if he'd snuck out by himself, but it's true that with Wang Yi around things went faster. Break finally parts with the bright-haired nuisance at the door, slips into his room in the empty house unnoticed, and gleefully digs out the bag of candy he'd gotten for free in the end. Now, time to enjo—

The bag is empty. Not wholly so—because he shakes a few more sweets out of it, hearing them drop into his lap, but the weight of the package completely belies its sparse contents. Frowning, Break feels the insides with his fingers and brushes against something round and smooth sewn in between its fabric layers. They were similar to pebbles, but clinked on impact with a sound not unlike hard candies...

Sensing a bad premonition, Break runs his fingers through the pile of sweets he thought he dumped out and realized most of them are just balls of cellophane. Wang Yi must have lined the top layer with a few candies and stuffed the rest with empty filling. How clever. How irritating. How atrocious. He will get him for this, oh yes he will, and the next time they meet there shall be a reckoning the likes of the world has never kno—crinkle.

His fingers brush against paper—another handwritten note? When Wang Yi already knows he's blind? Again the anger in him soars, but he can't deny wondering what the fool had dared to write. So.

He reads it, in the end.

Sorry. Like I said, Zhilan would kill me.

But I figure you could try sampling stuff from different stores so you can pick a fav in the future? There's 6 from Golden in there, though I heard there's a lot more shops hidden in Archimedes and Cotes. Something to think about, maybe. No need to keep this note for blackmail. I already told the people who would've wanted to know.

Break only wishes Wang Yi could write shorter messages that get to the point faster. He feels around his lap until he finds the five remaining candies—all strawberry-flavored, he notes—and cleans up the remaining cellophane into the bag before he's caught and forced to explain. Or perhaps there's no need to bother, if Wang Yi's already shared about his ideas. He doesn't quite trust the man on his words alone, though.

This, he reminds himself, is not an act that merits murder. Not even a phone call—though he gets satisfaction imagining himself tearing the man down with words alone. Wang Yi does have a strange propensity to grovel, which is as annoying as it is convenient. He uses his voice to dictate text messages instead.

XB [txt] Very funny. XB [txt] I hope you know that I'll be expecting one bag from each store after this, considering the difficulty of describing which candy is what when I can't see them.

There's a ping a few minutes later when Wang Yi replies, his words spoken out loud by the phone A.I. for Break's convenience.

WY [txt] Well yeah, that's the fun part, you see? WY [txt] Finished tracking down Zhilan—gave him the 6 bags—you two can figure it out together. WY [txt] Unless you ate the samples already, which is fine too but that means you've reached your candy quota for the day, so he won't let you taste-test any more until tomorrow.

Break arches a brow.

XB [txt] Why couldn't you have just given me the bags to begin with? WY[txt] What, and deprive Zhilan of his bonding time? I'm not a monster. WY [txt] And also, leaving that much sugar with you unsupervised is just insane right now. XB [txt] Don't act like you care all of a sudden. WY [txt] Don't act like you don't, then. WY [txt] Do you want me to tell you what Zhilan's wearing instead? Because he's looking pretty fluffy—fluffier than usual, I mean. XB [txt] I can ask him. Myself. WY [txt] Ok, then what about kissing tutorials? WY [txt] I found a good one the other day WY [txt] Not freaky I mean—so that might be—

Break turns off his phone in the middle of Wang Yi's rambling messages and puts it on the table by his bed. Forget the switcheroo with his candy bag. Forget the tiresome snacks Wang Yi had them sample all day. Forget even the careless way the guy references his relationship with the special someone in his life, because he hears the door opening and Zhilan stepping inside in his soft, quiet soles.

He tilts his head to listen closer, hearing the footsteps pause as shoes are taken off before their owner walks straight to his bedroom door. It's ajar, so all Zhilan has to do to nudge it open with his shoulder to peek inside.

"Xerxes," he begins breathlessly. "Did—do you want to try some candy?"

And oh. Just hearing that is already sweeter than anything he's tasted today, including the candy he'd sucked on outside the house. Break opens his arms to welcome him, a smile already stealing onto his lips, and says yes.

The hapless Wang Yi gets to live another day.

[sinsolucion]

MBTI SUMMARY.

ENTJ  /  THE COMMANDER.

strengths: ● efficient ● energetic ● self-confident ● strong-willed ● charismatic & inspiring ● strategic weaknesses: ● stubborn & dominant ● intolerant ● impatient ● arrogant ● poor emotional handling ● cold and ruthless

commanders are natural-born leaders. people with this personality type embody the gifts of charisma and confidence, and project authority in a way that draws crowds together behind a common goal. however, commanders are also characterized by an often ruthless level of rationality, using their drive, determination and sharp minds to achieve whatever end they’ve set for themselves.

if there’s anything commanders love, it’s a good challenge, big or small, and they firmly believe that given enough time and resources, they can achieve any goal. this quality makes people with the commander personality type brilliant entrepreneurs, and their ability to think strategically and hold a long-term focus while executing each step of their plans with determination and precision makes them powerful business leaders. this determination is often a self-fulfilling prophecy, as commanders push their goals through with sheer willpower where others might give up and move on, and their extraverted nature means they are likely to push everyone else right along with them, achieving spectacular results in the process.

at the negotiating table, be it in a corporate environment or buying a car, commanders are dominant, relentless, and unforgiving. this isn’t because they are coldhearted or vicious per se – it’s more that commander personalities genuinely enjoy the challenge, the battle of wits, the repartee that comes from this environment, and if the other side can’t keep up, that’s no reason for commanders to fold on their own core tenet of ultimate victory. if there’s anyone commanders respect, it’s someone who is able to stand up to them intellectually, who is able to act with a precision and quality equal to their own. commanders are true powerhouses, and they cultivate an image of being larger than life – and often enough they are. 

tagged: @bloodxhound ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡ 

[hotch-stufff]

Kiss The Girl

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: angst, pining(lots of it), crying, arguing, but a fluffy ending, like super fluffy ending :)

Word Count: 3.7k words

Description: Hotch tries to deny it, but he's madly in love with you. He keeps getting this urge to just kiss you. Could it really be that easy?

A/N: not really sure what this is, but I was listening to that new cover of kiss the girl by Brent Morgan and I really wanted wrote this. It definitely took a turn i was not expecting, but I hope you guys love it as much as I do. :)

*Based off the song "Kiss the Girl"*

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

He loved you. It was no secret.

Everyone knew, everyone except maybe him.

Or maybe he did know, but he refused to accept it. He couldn't love you. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, why on earth did it feel so good?

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

He wasn't the best at sharing his feelings. He was good at locking them away, and throwing away the key. But you, you made that hard.

There was just something about you. It drew him in, and he was hooked.

Maybe it was the way you giggled when you were nervous. Or maybe it was the blush that tinted your cheeks when someone gave you a compliment. Maybe it was the way you showed Hotch the happiness he needed in his darkest times.

He wasn't sure, but he knew you were special. He was sure he knew exactly when these feelings had started. It was the night of Rossi's Christmas party.

You sat on Rossi's couch, laughing along with Morgan and Prentiss. They had made some very very inappropriate joke, that you just thought was hilarious. 

"Okay, h-hang on. I need a refill." You gasped out between laughs. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the wine before pouring yourself a glass.

"Hey." You nearly squealed as Hotch came in the room behind you.

"Jesus Hotch, could have given me a heart attack." He simply chuckled. "Yeah, laugh it up." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He tried to hide his smile.

"Yeah, you sound it." You walked towards him, giving him a soft smile as the teasing atmosphere faded. The room was empty, and you wouldn't be able to ever work up the courage again.

"Merry Christmas Hotch." You whispered as you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, gave him a small smile, and walked back to the living room.

Aaron stood there, shocked. 

Why had you don't that? Why had he liked it? Would you do it again?

The questions repeated in his head, over and over. And he realised that a peck on the cheek wouldn't be enough. 

He needed a kiss, a real kiss. Even just one from you and he would be satisfied for life. But that, was an impossible dream. Or, so he thought.

And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Months had passed since then and he still hadn't gotten another kiss from you. 

You two had grown increasingly close however. You were practically inseparable. Always at one of your houses, talking, watching movies, eating. You name it.

Although watching movies was usually with Jack, and currently he was stuck on repeating the Little Mermaid.

"Miss Y/n?" He asked one night.

"Yes Jackers?" You asked, looking down at the small boy.

"Can we please, watch the little mermaid with daddy?" He begged. He used those puppy dog eyes and you were sold.

"Of course we can." You heard a chuckle come from behind you and you whipped around.

"Didn take you long to give in, huh?" Hotch questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh shut it Hotchner. Go get the popcorn." He laughed and shook his head before walking to the kitchen.

Soon you found yourself wrapped up with the Hotcner boys. Jack was curled up on your lap, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep.

As you and Hotch watched the movie, he snuck glances every couple of minutes. He couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. 

And you were holding his son, loving him like he could be your own. It filled Hotch's heart with love and affection.

And then that song began playing softly in the background

Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

The lyrics spoke a truth that Hotch was desperately trying to avoid. 

But he didn't know how much longer he could go without telling you. In the moment he couldn't remember why he hadn't told you already.

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

It don't take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl

All he wanted to do was reach over and bring you into a kiss. Just a simple kiss. 

Just to feel your lips move together. Just for a second. He almost did. You had turned to look at him, and he leaned in slightly. His hand raising. 

But the shrill sound of his phone broke the trance. His hand receded before you could grab it. And he didn't kiss you.

You were filled with a disappointment that you couldn't explain. 

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my, look like the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, He gonna miss the girl

The music of the movie faded as a grim look replaced the carefree one on Hotch's face. 

"We'll be right in." He muttered out the words with disdain, sending you an apologetic look.

But you barely noticed, you were still trying to calm down the beating of your heart.

He was going to kiss you.

Did he feel the same way that you did?

All thoughts left your mind though as you felt Jack wake in your arms.

"Hey buddy." He looked up at you with the eyes he shared with his father.

"Do you have to leave?" Your heart broke a little bit at his questions.

"Yeah, bud. I'm sorry." He just smiled at you and burrows further into your chest.

"Its 'kay." He mumbled sleepily. "But we have to wait till Aunt Jess gets here so we can keep cuddling." Your heart swelled and your face lit up. Hotch was staring at the two of you, in awe. His son loved you so much. 

You looked over at him, a tear in your eye. He swallowed as he pushed his feelings aside, giving you a soft smile before getting up to get dressed.

He was screwed.

A couple cases later, and you were holed up in a precinct, everyone nearly falling asleep.

It was a bad case, a really bad case. And you were running out of time. The unsubs' latest victim only had about a day left.

But nobody could work if they were falling asleep. Eventually Hotch sighed and told everyone it was time to head to the hotel.

But of course, once there, there were only 4 rooms.

"I'm taking my own room. I'm old." Rossi said and grabbed the key before anyone could argue.

"C'mon pretty boy." Morgan grabbed another key, and walked off with spence.

"I'll go with Jj. Y/l/n, you good with Hotch?" Your face went bright red at Prentiss's words. But you nodded, looking anywhere but at Hotch. You couldn't say no, it would be too obvious.

"Y-yeah, that's fine." You all trudged to the elevator, Emily and Jj said goodnight and walked off once you reached your floor. You and Hotch walked in silence down the hall to the very last room.

He swung the door open, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. There was only one bed.

"I'll uh, I'll take the floor." You scrunched your nose at Hotch's offer and he couldn't deny how adorable you looked.

"Hotch, no. That will kill your back." You shook your head. "We can share. We're both adults, it's fine." You're not sure if you're convincing yourself or him. He just nods and gives a soft okay.

"Do you want the first shower?" He asked. 

"Um, no. I shower in the mornings." He nodded before walking into the bathroom.

Why was this so awkward? You guys were such good friends, this shouldn't be so weird. 

You pushed the thought aside before crawling into the bed and curling up.

Hotch walked out of the bathroom 10 minutes later in nothing but a towel.

Your eyes grew and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He cleared his throat, and you looked up at his eyes.

"Uh sorry, forgot my bag." You nodded, looking away quickly. Too scared to speak. He quickly went back into the bathroom.

"Get a hold of yourself." You whispered to yourself. You weren't going to survive this case if he did that again. He joined you in bed soon after getting dressed.

Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, neither of you breathed. It was completely silent.

After about 20 minutes of silence and trying desperately to fall asleep you spoke up.

"Hotch?" 

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse.

"Um, I can't sleep." You turned towards him and he did the same.

"Neither can I." You sighed.

"How's Jack?" You asked, trying to bring up the mood, or to at least get rid of the awkwardness. It seemed to work because his face lit up at the mention of his son.

"He's good. He actually just asked if you could come over soon. He got an A plus on his spelling test that you helped him study for and he really wants to show you." You smiled as you listened.

"That's great! He was so nervous for that test." 

"Yeah, thank you Y/n for helping him." You grabbed his hand, squeezing gently.

"Of course Hotch. I love Jack." You muttered, and you fell into silence again.

But it was more content, more peaceful. Your hands stayed laced together, and Hotch's mind went blank as you started leaning closer.

Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

He started leaning in, his hand moved from your own to cup your face. But something switched in his mind. What was he doing? This was wrong. He couldn't let this happen. 

Your faces were inches apart when he pulled his hand away and scooted backwards slightly.

Look like the boy too shy

He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Your face fell, and his heart squeezed painfully.

"Um, we should go to bed." You were so confused. You thought that was it. It was perfect. He, he pulled away though. Why had he pulled away?

You could almost physically see his walls being built up.

Walls you had spent so much time breaking down.

"Oh, um. O-okay." You stuttered out, pulling back  quickly.

"Goodnight Y/n." He said softly, but you didn't respond. You were too scared you would cry if you did. 

You fell asleep faster than you anticipated, but maybe you were just that tired. 

He was gone when you woke up.

You thought everything might just go back to the way it was after that night.

But boy were you wrong. Hotch had completely pulled away from you.

No longer did he invite you over, or invite you to do paperwork in his office with him

You didn't watch movies, or go out to eat, or even talk about anything other than work. It was hell.

You tried, you really tried to get him to open up again, but it just didn't work. Nothing did.

It was to the point where he would be almost rude to you. 

The team was beginning to notice. And you couldn't hold back any longer. It was killing you.

You needed to talk to him, past this wall he had put up. You needed to know why he was pushing you away. You walked up to his door, knocking on the door.

"Come in." He said softly. You walked in, and his eyes stayed trained on the paperwork in front of him.

"Hotch?" He still didn't look up.

"How can I help you Agent Y/l/n?" He asked, his voice not wavering from professionalism. You shut the door behind you and walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs.

"We need to talk." He was taken aback slightly by the determination in your voice, but he sighed before setting down his pen.

"What is it?" He sounded almost annoyed, which just made you angrier.

"What the hell is going on?" You didn't mean to be so rude about it, but you needed to know.

"Excuse me?" 

"Seriously Hotch, we went from talking almost every day, to not speaking unless it has something to do with work."

"Y/l/n…" he went to stop you.

"No. Hotch please. I don't know what I did." You begged. "I mean you can't even use my name anymore." You whispered.

"This is very unprofessional." he wasn't breaking.

"Please Aaron. Don't lie to me." You tried his first name, and he had never loved his name being spoken more than when you said it. But he had to stop this.

"Agent Y/l/n. I'm sorry if our friendship was confus-" but you cut him off.

"We weren't just friends. You know that and I know that." He had the audacity to look confused. But he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Don't try to hide it how, You wanna kiss the girl

"Please Aaron, don't pretend, not with me."

"Agent Y/l/n! That's enough!" His voice was rising. 

He didn't understand why you couldn't just let it go.

"No it's not. I love you Aaron, I'm sorry. But I do. And it hurts so much that you are pushing me away!" Your eyes filled with tears and Hotch stood there, awed that you felt this way. But he couldn't let you in. So he took that final heartbreaking step.

"I don't love you." He whispered out. You had been standing and you took a staggering step backwards. 

"What?" Your voice was small.

"I don't love you Y/n." The lie was tearing him apart. Why was he doing this again?

Tears began falling down your face. You were upset and mad and heartbroken. And you were embarrassed that this man had this much of a hold on you.

"Fine." You sniffed. "If that's how you feel Agent Hotchner." He missed the way you said Aaron and flinched at the formal title. But this was what he wanted. "I apologize for the unprofessionalism." You turned to leave, but stopped when he spoke.

"Y/n…" His voice was small, strained. You wiped away your tears. When you looked back, his eyes were glossy.

But he didn't say anything else and you kept walking, slamming the door behind you. The bullpen silenced and everyone stared at you.

It was humiliating, but you walked to Rossi's office, your head held high.

"Rossi?" 

"Y/l/n, what's wrong?" He asked, like he hadn't heard the conversation through his shared wall with Hotch. 

"Can you please tell Hotch that I'm sick and I won't be in for a while?" Your voice wavered slightly, but you ignored it.

"Y/n-" he started, but you didn't feel like talking.

"Please Rossi?" You begged, praying he would just say yes so you could leave.

"Yes, of course." You nodded and thanked him before leaving. You slipped down to your desk and grabbed your bag. 

You didn't see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office, watching you as you left, tears silently slipping down your face.

Your teammates asked what was happening, but you just waved them off and left.

They all turned to Hotch, but he was already back in his office, his door slamming for the second time that day.

You wanna kiss the girl

A week passed, and you hadn't come back to work yet. Hotch wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hated what he did.

The team was confused, Rossi kept sending him angry glances, and your empty desk was haunting him.

And then, Jack asked that question. The question that broke him just a little more.

"Why doesn't Miss Y/n come over anymore daddy?" He had asked one night at dinner.

He didn't know how to answer. "Does she not love us anymore?" His eyes were big and glossy like he was going to cry. He decided not to lie to his son.

"Daddy made a mistake and Miss Y/n is just a little sad right now." Jack didn't understand what was happening, but he wanted to help fix it. His dad had been so sad these past couple of weeks and it made him sad. 

"Daddy, you have to say sorry! And you have to do what the song says!" Hotch looked at his son confused. What song?

"What song buddy?" He asked, pulling his son into his lap.

"You know, you have to kiss the girl!" He giggled like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"The little mermaid song?" He asked, smiling at his son's innocence. 

"Yes, remember, you and Y/n were sitting on the couch before you left for work, and you were going to kiss her!" Hotch looks shocked, Jack was awake for that?

"Um, buddy. Me and Y/n aren't together." He sighed as his son deflated.

"But why? You love her. And she loves you." He spoke, confused as to what was happening.

"Um.." Hotch drew a blank. He couldn't give this little boy an answer. Not when it was his fault. Not when he was the one that had said no. 

It was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have just told you.  Why hadn't he?

He should have kissed you.

The first time, or the second time. He should have told you that he loved you too. Was it too late? 

"Um, buddy, you know what? It's time for bed." Hotch put his son to sleep and called Rossi, asking him to come over.

He prayed he wasn't too late. Rossi showed up at his door 20 minutes later.

"Hotch-" but he knew.

"I know, I'm an idiot. But I have to go tell her I love her too." He was rushing, grabbing his keys.

"Atta boy Aaron." Was all Rossi said as Hotch ran out the door, jumping in his car.

He was sure he was going faster than the speed limit, but he couldn't care less. He needed to see you, and to be with you. To tell you that he loved you.

His car was barely parked when he jumped out and ran up to your door, banging on it.

You heard the noise wondering who would come over so late. You were shocked to find Hotch there as you opened the door.

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

"Y/n." Was all he said. You slammed the door in his face.  He began banging his fist in the door and you threw it open, again.

"Leave Hotch." 

"Please, Y/n, just hear me out." He begged. You hesitated, but moved to the side letting him in. You shut the door softly.

Yes, you want her, Look at her, you know you do

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

"What do you want, Hotch? What more could you possibly want?" He shook his head, holding his tears at bay.

"Aaron." He spoke quietly.

"What?" 

"Please, it's Aaron." 

"Agent Hotchner. You need to leave." But he didn't leave. He stood there and stared at you. 

"I'm so sorry Y/n." 

"Hotch, seriously, I can't do this. I can't." You tried to keep those tears in, you were tired of crying over him, but there was no point. You felt then slip down your face.

Words weren't working, he had already said enough. But he remembered Jacks words. 

The song.

Now's your moment, Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

She don't say a word and she won't say a word, Until you kiss the girl

He stepped forward and brought his hand up to your face. He leaned in slowly, and brought your lips to his. 

Your heart stopped, and you kissed him back desperately. You had wanted this for so long. You had waited for so. Damn. Long.

"Your so stupid." You murmured against his lips. He pulled away gasping for air.

"I know" his voice was beautiful.

You've gotta kiss the girl, Go on and kiss the girl

He leaned in again, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gently ran his thumb across your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward. He broke away a moment later.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was an idiot. I love you." A tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away. "I dont expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you. I was awful, and I never should have lied and said I didn't love you too. I shouldn't have pushed you away."

"Why did you?" He hesitated, he wasn't sure you would understand.

"The last time I let someone in my heart, she left. And then she got hurt because of me. I couldn't risk that happening to you." He shook his head.

"Oh Aaron. I'm not leaving. I don't ever want to leave you. I love you too much to leave." You paused. "And you can't hide and be scared to open your heart. Its okay to let people in." You added softly and he gave you a smile.

You both stood there in blissful peace, your foreheads touching. He chuckled and you looked at him confused.

"What?"

"I kissed the girl." You just grew more confused.

"What are you talking about?" You asked humor in your voice.

"The song. Jack said I had to do what the little mermaid song said." You understood then and began giggling. 

"Maybe, maybe you should do it again." You suggested, a smile on your face.

"Hmm, maybe I should." And he leaned in again for another breathtaking kiss.

.....................

"And that is how me and your dad got together." Your three kids sat in front of you listening in awe. 

"Wow, so Jack is why he finally told you he loved you?" Your middle child, Tommy asked. Jack laughed as he stood up, tapping your shoulder as he towered over you. 

"You could say that." Aaron said from the doorway, you turned, smiling at your husband. 

"Yeah, sure." You giggled and ruffled Jack's hair as you picked up your nine year old daughter, Jenna. Who, in all honesty, was almost too big to be picked up.

"Mommy, can you tell us that story every night?" She asked, and you smiled. 

"Of course I can sweat pea. But now, its bed time." You tucked in your kids, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before joining your husband in your room.

You plopped on the bed and curled up into his side.

"Hi sweetheart." He greeted you with a kiss, and he pulled you into his side. "You know, you didn't need to make me sound so…" he couldn't quite find the word.

"Stupid? Clueless? Dumb?" You asked, giggling as he began digging his fingers into your side, tickling you. 

"St-stop. Aaron!" You shrieked and he let up, but not before plopping on top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face.

"I'm glad you finally told that story. Jenna has been begging for weeks" Your youngest had watched the little mermaid a couple of weeks ago and Jack had made a comment about one of the songs. Jenna had heard one word and was begging for us to tell her our "falling in love story", as she put it. 

You had finally given in and told them, and they had loved every moment of it. Jack of course had already known, having witnessed it. 

But Jenna and Tommy had loved hearing how their parents had fallen in love. 

And a week later when you walked in the living room you were filled with a sense of nostalgia as you saw Jack with Jenna in his lap, as Tommy and Aaron sat on the couch next to them. Watching, of course, the little mermaid. You plopped next to Aaron, smiling. 

As Kiss The Girl started playing.

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

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bootylicious

Stray Kids Bang Chan x Idol!Reader Summary: You're known as the gym rat in your group, and quite frankly, you only have two moods: shredding or chilling. This was why when you're not asleep in between schedules, you're spotted with a male idol you happened to meet in the gym you were at that day. It's a known fact though, that you and Bang Chan are gym buddies and each other's spotter. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Internet toxicity, sasaengs, vulgar language, sexism, misogyny, pining, fluff, mentions of Pentagon because why not <3, etc.

A/N: Girl, i shouldn't do this but I did. It's so funny to me someone requested this cause I have recently become an exercise junkie lol. Also, if you can't tell, there is a pov shift after the cut so yeah. I also wanted to keep the reader gender neutral but I want to write about how psychotically different people treat male and female idols because that stuff aint it. It's most definitely not what anon was expecting me to write but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless.

There's compilation in YT with growing parts centered around you flexing your physical fitness and prowess. It ranges from you affectionally touring your fans, which really meant the cameraman, through the gym, introducing your trainer, and doing your routine on camera, to your group (and others) both fawning and bragging about how strong and how hot you are.

CLIP #1: A scene from an interview of your group in Japan, struggling to talk about how you can do 40 straight push ups.

There was a male interviewer in a suit you could all faintly recognize was talking about your recent Instagram post of a gym mirror selfie.

One of your youngest members smirked and in broken Japanese, cutely said, "Wah, she does 100 push ups! Everyday, every night."

You snap your head to the maknae and raise your brows, "nani?" You begin to shake your hands in protest and begin to explain your truth, "absolutely not 100. Maybe around 40, but nooooo, not 100."

The interviewer and your group comically react in awe. The man in the suit urges, "can you show us?"

You give a face, "Excuse me, but I'm not getting paid to do that in this miniskirt."

Everyone, including the film crew, break into laughter.

CLIP #2: A scene from a variety show where you had to prove you were, in fact, yourself, by doing a shortened version of your exercise routine.

One of the hosts of the show asks, "Wait, do you honestly do all of this in your workout? Like you can do all of it?"

The list of your exercises were written on a colourful cardboard, held by the one who just spoke. It was a range of exercises in 10 sets, from jumping jacks to sit ups, to vague sounding exercises like crab pinches and robot arms.

You purse your lips at the last question asked of you, not really liking the tone in which it was asked. You answer quickly and nod proudly, "I actually do more, cause when I get in the zone and I'm already really sweaty, I feel like I should keep going until my whole body burns." You chuckle.

The older hosts, tilt their head and mutter lowly under their breath something along the lines of, "I'd rather die."

You finally do the routine, quickly, continuously, earning impressed reactions from everyone.

"That's hot," one of the hosts note.

"Ya, for some reason it looks easy to do."

The hosts begin to clamour at that statement, and force whoever said to do the exact thing you did. Clearly, they don't work out as much as you do and cannot even get halfway through it without stopping.

You break out into a breathless laugh in amusement of the comical attempt but then protest, explaining how bad it is to force yourself to do more than you can

CLIP #3: Pentagon, Hongseok especially, fawns over how fit you are

Trailing a conversation about how your group is close with Pentagon because your companies are situated closely to each other and you wind up eating together a lot, there is an anecdote about how there was a jar no one could open, no one but you, that is.

The interviewer asks no one in particular, "wah, none of you could open the jar? Really? Or did you all just pretend so she could open it?"

There is a chorus of answers concluding with, "no really, she was the only one that was able to open it."

The story is backed up by how the jar had a really small lid and some hands were too big. Then came an explanation how you were recently into the new rock climbing machine in your gym.

Hongseok speaks up, "I was invited to go to rock climbing in, like, an actual rock climbing place and I was honestly so surprised when she began to climb. She said she never actually tried rock climbing on a wall, but it seemed like she had been doing it for years."

Shinwon agrees, "Right, right. I was also really curious about what they did that day," he points to Hongseok, "that I joined them one time. I never felt so out of shape in my life. I just stayed back and filmed everything."

Pentagon laughs, and then agrees that you were exceptionally fast and just super fit in all honesty.

The interviewer catches Hongseok's expression then suddenly asks, "do you like a woman like that?"

"Yeah, I like my women strong."

Then came a lot of teasing remarks from Pentagon, and a plethora of complaints from delusional fans who did not want Hongseok to ever breathe in your direction again.

With all that's been said about that, in all the parts of this series floating around in the internet, one thing remained, there was a slightly larger population of impressed fans than the still large portion of antifans who wanted nothing to do with it and only came around to hate.

It's hard not to think about it, but even the slightest back handed compliment can sometimes linger in one's mind.

And right now, as much as I kept my mind on my counting as I finished my set high knees, I couldn't help but think of how much backlash I got from posting a post workout photo with my midriff exposed.

Apparently that was not only enough to merit hate for being both a whore and an attention whore, but people baselessly began to hate on my groupmates simply for being associated with me.

It's kind of sad really, how, say Wonho, can post a fairly exposed photo of himself and get so much praise for it, and yet I couldn't even do anything remotely close to that.

And I don't even mean to come at Wonho, we all know he's a beast at the gym and should be able to show as much of his hard work as he is comfortable in showing, but why can't I?

"Hey trooper. I thought you said you were only doing 80 counts?" a voice cracks me out of my train of thought.

I turn to whom spoke and chuckle at myself as I stop my leg raises, "ah yeah, I got lost in thought, and your really good song."

I pull on my earphones and give a lopside smile, "I love working out to God's Menu."

He gives a soft, "he he, thanks."

"No need for a thank you when I'm only giving my honest opinion, Chan."

"Yeah, well still, it makes my kokoro go doki-doki," he sniggers, crossing his arms and flashing a dimpled smile. I raise my upper lip and reel back, "EWWW!"

I playfully shove him. He acts hurt, "this is violence against children."

"Chan, you're literally older than me."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a child at heart."

"You mean, it doesn't mean you're not a drama queen."

"Hey, I have no interest in having a throne, my only interest is," he leans in and whispers, "you."

I feel my soul leave my body as he snorts to himself and runs away. I regurgitate in surprise, "YA!"

"You better do your next set properly," Chan says heading off to a cable row machine, "I'm always watching."

I try to ignore the blood rushing up your neck, "creep."

He shrugs, "rather that or have you get injured, sweet heart."

Yeah, Chan has saved me from a lot of injuries I could have had. It was a bad habit. It stemmed from the same thing that made me mess up my count a while ago, my overthinking.

Sometimes I thought of rather harmless things, but sometimes I began to fixate on the hate I received for simply being. I do a lot to get my mind to realize that they hated me simply because they could and because it was easy. Exercising helped tremendously, especially when I had someone fun to work out with, especially when I was with Chan. He just... made me feel safe, y'know.

But when the news of us being work out buddies surfaced, a lot of sasaengs came for me. Of course, a lot of Stays and my own fans were really kind about, speaking out that we were our own people and exercising together did not mean anything in particular really.

But some really went for it, and made it a hobby to comment on everything I was in that I was a slut for 'working out' with different men every day."

I let out a breath as I finish my routine. I catch my breath and go for a swig of my water. I take a moment then sit down by the mirror, which was near where Chan was currently working out.

"You're doing it again."

I turn from where I was blankly staring at turn to Chan who gave me a soft look, "you good?"

I release a sigh then purse my lips, "maybe."

He pouts, "what happened?"

I shrug and stand from where I sat, "you know, the usual."

Chan then comes up to me and takes my water bottle from me, "you know, no matter how much people say you don't need water to live, you can never change the fact that you are extremely dependent on water to live."

I look at him and half- heartedly point, "are you calling me thirsty?"

He begrudgingly groans and releases a chuckle. He calls my name out in a scolding tone. I feel myself relax, "I know what you're getting at Chan."

He nods, "good. I'll always be here to remind you of that."

I smile and feel an urge to hug him, "if you weren't so sweaty, I would totally hug you right now."

Chan then gives me a look then does not hesitate to crush me into his arms. I groan and whine in protest. He chuckles, "you literally just said you wanted a hug!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY SO SWEATY. NO ONE WANTS THIS TORTURE."

Chan huffs and gives a wounded look, "hmp. You better spot me while I lift or else I'm unfriending you."

"Hmm... I think I'll be good without you as a friend."

I half expect Chan to whine about it, but he instead smirks, "ahhhh, you must want me to be your boyfriends so badly huh."

I- I mean...

CLIP #4: A crack edit of Chan when he gets asked about his gym relationship with me in Chan's Room.

He was looking through the questions and suddenly chuckles, his ears noticeably began to redden. Cue a zoom in of his face and his red ears. Cue a clip of Cardi B saying, "that's suspicious."

He says my name then continues, "am I close with her? Yeah. I would say I'm close with her-- and her whole group actually."

Captioned: Nice save, Chris.

"The kids and I are close with her group," he says, clearing his throat.

A clip of him clearing his throat is repeated about ten times.

Chan adjust the beanie he was wearing as he thinks of what he was going to say next, "we actually do work out together a lot because she's under a trainer that works with my trainer."

Captioned: Sure, Chan. That's the only reason, right?

Chan catches another question, "Is she a beast in the gym like Hongseok says?" He breaks into a laugh. He then rubs his cheek and grits his teeth.

A clip of someone saying, "Oh he's jealous," flashes on screen.

"Yeah," Chan finally says, "she's got a really high stamina."

Cue the clip, WHAT DID HE SAY?

Chan continues, "she can go between exercises without stopping. she doesn't even take that much time to catch her breath. In fact, she sings while exercising sometimes, which helps make her vocals stable."

Captioned: Queen Tingz.

The next thing that happens is Chan breaks into a laugh and begins to chuckle. He says, "Sorry I saw a funny comment."

Captioned: WHAT HE MEANS IS HE SAW A COMMENT SAYING 'SHUT UP CHRIS, YOU'RE WHIPPED."

Then came these comments:

LITERALLY LOOK AT HOW FLUFFY BANG CHAN GETS WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT HER DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME MY SHIP IS ALIVE

They are dating period. prove me wrong. you cant

Chan literally blushes over anything, buT HE TURNED INTO A TOMATO WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT HER BYE

if you hate on your faves loving each other, you most definitely need Jesus (:

PLEASE CAN YOU SEE HOW WHIPPED THEY ARE FOR EACH OTHER

Yeah... it's not been confirmed to this day.

[corpsebasil]

Easily Replaced | part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.

You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.

"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.

He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.

"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.

"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.

The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.

"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.

"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.

He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.

Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.

You weren’t expecting the dreams again.

You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.

You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.

Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.

When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.

"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.

"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.

You knew that voice.

That voice had haunted you for years.

"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.

It was him.

It was the man who killed Jordie.

"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."

"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.

You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.

"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"

"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.

Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.

"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"

"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—

—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.

"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."

"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."

The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.

You could do it.

Why couldn't you do it?

You could—

"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."

"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.

     He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.

     You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.

It was Pekka's fault.

It was all his—

"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.

The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.

"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.

     He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...

...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.

"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"

"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"

"Don't you dare blame me for—"

"Well if you had just left when I asked—"

"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"

"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."

     Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.

@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907

hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA

[hitoshiikigai]

Foreign Feelings

anon request: Hiya there Sen!! I love your blog and i would love to read more of your writings. Can i request an imagine for being like a first year european shy student and becoming Nekoma’s manager, she slowly develops a crush for kenma but doesn’t know how to express her feelings because of language and because she thinks kenma won’t return her feelings

‪(o_ _)ﾉ彡☆ a/n 「i made it gender neutral, i hope that's ok and if it's not, i can change it to your liking! also, this is my first romance fic in my whole life, i hope it's satisfactory(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ i feel like i just forgot the slowly part-」

‪pronouns used: they/them

‪word count: 2.8k

You continuously repeat your introduction in your head as you wait for your turn. It's ok, you can do this, you've learnt this in basic Japanese lessons, it's just a few lines. Nothing too complicated!

The voice of the person behind you breaks the chant in your mind, "I'm Haiba Lev and..." Your thoughts block out the rest of his introduction. Is he a foreigner too? That name definitely does not sound Japanese but you note of his perfect pronunciation- a screech of a chair moving startles you and you're suddenly aware of the eyes of your new classmates staring right at you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you stand up, doing a bow, the Japanese words tumbling clumsily out of your mouth, "I'm (Y/N) (L/N)- no wait- (L/N) (Y/N), please just call me (y/n). Nice to meet all of you." You keep your eyes on your desk as you bow once again before sitting back down. You pretend not to notice the murmurs and sounds of interest about the two foreign students in their class, busying yourself by preparing your things for the lesson.

Mechanical pencil on the right. Pencil case right above your notebook. The ruler-

"Psst... Hey, you're not from Japan, right?" You turn around to meet glowing green eyes that somehow made you feel like you were looking into a cat's eyes instead. You nod and he grins in what you could guess as excitement. However, before he could say any more, he was cut off by the teacher signalling the start of class.

Maybe he's a potential friend?

After a few lessons of trying to keep up with the lessons taught in Japanese, your brain's finally granted with a break from trying to translate and you can't help the sigh that escapes you as you rest your cheek on your table, closing your eyes.

"Hey Y/N! Wanna have lunch with me?" You open your eyes to see your tall classmate looming over you- right, his name's Lev. Or should you call him Haiba?

You quickly weigh the pros and cons of eating with him. He seems like a nice person to be friends with and having a non-Japanese friend in this less-than-familiar country could definitely do you some good, maybe your Japanese can improve faster as well. But... you were planning to just find some nice quiet spot to listen to music in hopes of preventing the growing headache, a result of an overwhelming first day.

Well, there's no harm, you suppose... "Sure, I don't mind," you agree and you search for your wallet in your bag as Lev waits patiently.

Once he sees you're ready, he smiles widely and starts walking to the cafeteria most likely and you follow him, having to walk slightly faster to keep up.

"Where are you from? I'm half-Russian but I can't speak Russian. Oh! I know a few people here already! I visited the school before the school year started and made friends with people from the volleyball team. I'm actually gonna join the team once they start taking in applicants and-" Lev rambles on and you could only hum or nod, insert a few words of your own when he asks a question until you reach the cafeteria.

"Lev! Here! You're late!" You see a student with black messy hair that spikes up everywhere except for the fringe that covers his right eyes waving his arm. Lev bounds up to the table with you in tow and you can already see a few curious eyes examining you. Your gaze sweeps across the table, an uninterested guy playing with a switch catching your eyes a tiny fraction longer than the others before you look down at the floor, shuffling just a bit behind Lev, your current shield.

"This is Y/N, my new friend! They're not from Japan and I thought I could show them around," Lev claps his hands on your shoulders and moves you forward, putting you right in the spotlight.

Oh no. Ok, deep breaths. A simple introduction, no big deal. It's definitely a smaller group, better than a whole class.

"H-hi..." You clear your throat, cursing yourself mentally for the stutter, and repeat yourself with what you hope was a stronger voice. There's a chorus of greetings and before you even realise, you find yourself squished between Lev and a friendly-looking guy with a buzzcut, who you soon come to know as Kai, after a round of introductions.

How did you end up here? In a gym full of flying balls that could accidentally hit your face anytime? With your arms full of water bottles that you just filled up? You definitely did not sign up for this... Ok, well technically you did, you just didn't know what was in store. Try being a manager just for one practice, they said. Somehow, it feels like you were tricked somewhere along the line.

You hand the water bottles to the boys, jolting slightly when your hand unintentionally brushes against Kenma's. He thanks you quietly and you only nod in acknowledgment, avoiding any form of eye-contact with him and quickly moving on to hand the rest of the water bottles out before going back to the sidelines to watch.

It's really amazing watching them play. Everyone seems so coordinated with each other and the teamwork is seamless. Despite that, there are a few individuals that pique your interest: Yaku who seems to be able to teleport anywhere in the court, Lev with his tall and powerful stature, and more importantly, Kenma with his smart plays. It's like he calls the game, dictating where and how the ball goes and it's a whole experience observing him. Of course, the other members are amazing in their own ways, watching the team play is like watching a well-oiled machine working.

"How are you, Y/N?" Kai asks from beside you, wiping his sweat and giving you a warm smile.

You peel your eyes away from the quiet setter to answer Kai, and also to make sure you aren't caught staring at the certain player, "It's..." You try to find the correct words in your brain as Kai waits patiently for your answer. "It's nice... to watch. Everyone's good." You blush in embarrassment at the simple words you used, not having the full vocabulary to communicate what you really want to say. Kai, being the angel he is, makes a noise of approval and gives another warm smile which at least make you relax.

"If you need help with anything, you can ask any of us," he tells you before going back to the courts. You bow to him which he only waves off, laughing amiably.

After attending a few more practice sessions and having lunch with the team almost every break, you've grown a bit more comfortable with them, especially with Kai and Yaku, along with Lev. The team always tried their best to use simpler words whenever they spoke to you and you're definitely grateful for their efforts. However, there's just one person you've barely interacted with:

Kozume Kenma.

The third years obviously noticed the lack of interaction, especially Kuroo and he made it his own personal mision to try to get the two of you to talk to each other more, albeit with many difficulties.

"Come on, Kenma. You don't think I don't notice you paying attention anytime Y/N talks? You're not exactly very slick, you always pause your games just for Y/N," Kuroo nudges Kenmas side with his elbow which Kenma slaps away in irritation.

"Shut up Kuroo."

Kuroo leans in closer to Kenma, "You can't tell me you don't notice Y/N staring at you during practice? Blushing whenever you're 5 metres away from each other? Or when-"

"Kuroo, please just shut up," Kenma groans and glares at his switch, clicking away at the buttons and suppressing the urge to scream in anger as the words 'GAME OVER' flash on the screen. Instead, he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out a long sigh.

Kuroo smiles knowingly before his eyes shift over to something behind Kenma.

"Kuroo-senpai? Kenma-senpai? Has Kai-san arrived yet? I need to ask him something..." Kenma stiffens as your soft voice reaches his ears. He bristles at the 'senpai' title attached to his name, wanting you to just rid of the honorific altogether. He was supposed to tell you, in fact, he had been wanting to tell you to just refer to him casually just like everyone does but he never got the chance. How could he when your conversations only last 30 seconds long each time?

Jump. Jump. Duck. Ju- GAME OVER.

He pressed down his buttons more aggressively, a frown slowly forming on his face. Why couldn't he be more talkative? Why is talking so hard? Why is talking to YOU so hard? Lev does it so easily, Kai too, and Yaku and... and just everyone in the team but him.

You stare in concern as you watch Kenma play angrily with his game and you look to Kuroo for answers only to be met with a shrug.

"Yaku will be running late, some class meeting or something," Kuroo stands up and stretches, walking out of the gym, "Meanwhile, I'll go get my things."

The sounds from Kenma's game filled up the awkward silence and you take a moment to steel yourself, walking towards Kenma. "A-are you okay, Kenma-senpai? You look... angry?" At your question, Kenma's fingers still and the sounds suddenly stopped.

Kenma looks up at you and places his switch on his lap before looking away. "I'm okay... I'm not angry." He mumbles and you smile in relief at his words. "Do you want to play?" He suddenly offers his switch to you and you blink in shock, never really having known or seen him to ever share his switch with someone, simply rejecting anyone- save for that tangerine boy from another school- who tried to even get their hands on his beloved switch.

Noticing your hesitance, he places the gadget on the bench, between the two of you, letting you take your time. You look back to search for anything that will clue you in if he doesn’t actually want to do this, but finding none, you gingerly take it, careful not to drop it or at least try to not leave any embarrassingly sweaty fingerprints. You feel Kenma shifting closer to you to get a closer look at the screen and you don’t know if you feel lightheaded from him being the closest he has ever been that you can actually feel body heat radiating from him or from forgetting to breathe. Trying to focus on the little digital character instead and your fingers clumsily hitting the buttons, a contrast to the way his nimble fingers moved with muscle memory.

And if you felt butterflies in your stomach as he occasionally positioned your fingers on the correct button, the butterflies immediately flew away the moment Lev walks in the gym and you were left with just tingling fingers.

You cradle the box of apple pie you bought in a rush from the bakery, trying to tidy up the ribbon you tied around it to make it more presentable. You had asked Kai about what Kenma liked because you knew there was no way you could write or even say anything close to romantic in Japanese, so you figured out you could give him little gifts, you know, actions soeak louder than words, that kinda thing? As you think of the many ways you could say something wrong by declaring your feelings to him in a foreign tongue like unknowingly saying something ridiculous, or stupid, or even worse, something dirty! Lev’s incessant teasing and mock-kissing noises only stopped when you reached the gym.

“Oh? Y/N-chan, who’s that apple pie for, I wonder,”Kuroo gives you a knowing look and blatantly stares at Kenma, who just seems unbothered. You try to reason yourself that he was only concentrating on his game. Ignoring Kuroo, you take a tentative step towards Kenma, making sure you’re in his line of sight before thrusting the box to him, “For you Kenma… Uh, enjoy it!” You blurted out before brisk walking to the equipment room to take refuge, not even waiting for his reaction.

You hear the muffled shouts of the boys and you can imagine them crowding Kenma. You wince in sympathy.

During the whole practice, you had to deflect the many looks and questions the boys gave you. Thankfully, Kai managed to stop them before it got too much. A godsend. Before any of them could corner you after practice, you zoomed past the gym doors the moment you were done with your manager duties, forgetting that you had barely paid any attention to Kenma the whole time.

“Lev, do you know who’s this from?” You ask Lev, holding up the canned drink that was left on your table.

“Oh, that’s from Kenma. He came here earlier to place it there. He honestly could’ve just asked me to pass it to you but he said I would lose it or something. How mean,” Lev huffs but you can only focus on the fact that Kenma went through efforts to make sure you received it.

“Thank you for the apple pie yesterday. It was really nice,” Kenma took a seat beside you, on the same bench you first played his switch together.

“T-thank you for the drink! It’s my favourite,” you smile shyly. The corner of his lips curl up, just ever so slightly, which you think was the trick of the light.

Kenma gives his switch to you, now a weekly routine for the both of you on days he finishes class earlier. The distance between you and him grew smaller and smaller until your elbows brush against his at any slight movement.

This is it. This is the moment. You made a mental deal with yourself a week ago. If you win this level today, the one where you always lose, you’ll confess to him and if you don’t, you’ll simply leave your feelings hidden and buried deep in the safe in your heart.

Your eyebrows furrow in concentration, refusing any help from Kenma (Kenma just ignored the tiny sting in his heart when you did).

In the meantime, Kenma takes the chance to watch you, sharp, feline eyes studying your features. The stray baby hairs peeking out after a long school day, the slight sheen on your skin from the hot and humid gym, the determination in your eyes. Determination? To beat the level? He restrains himself from chuckling at your cuteness. This felt very different when he watches Shouyo play his video games. Kenma just really feels different any time he’s around you.

You abruptly stand up and cheer, “I did it! Kenma, look!” You show him the screen with the words ‘MISSION COMPLETE’ flashing repeatedly on the screen. You grinned widely at him and he smiles back in fondness.

Suddenly, you go all quiet, which concerned Kenma. “I have something to tell you.” At that, he tilts his head, urging for you to go on.

“I… IlikeyouKenma!” Your words end up being stringed together but from the widening of his eyes, he mostly likely understood.

“You do?”

You nod with pink dusting your cheeks, your fingers fiddling with the ends of your blouse. You’re prepared to get rejected, maybe even move back to Europe and never show your face to him again. And if not, at least you could quit the manager position to avoid any future confrontations with him.

“I like you too, Y/N,” he replies softly, but it was definitely audible in the quiet gym.

And if all else fails- wait what? This time, it’s your turn to look at him wide-eyed, processing what he just said.

“Y/N! Did you leave me for your boyfriend?!” The doors burst open with Lev boisterously shouting, Yaku walking calmly behind him with a twitching eyebrow.

You backpedal away from Kenma, dropping the switch in surprise and you scramble to pick it up, saying a stream of apologies to him, wiping away the dust and checking for any cracks.

Yaku, being more aware of the mood, kicks the back of Lev’s knees, adding a smack to the back of the head for good measure, hissing, “Shut up, you idiot!”

You make eye contact with Kenma before bursting into giggles, him just letting out a snort. You’re just glad you managed to confess before Lev could confess for you.

[1 New Message]

Kenma: wanna beat the next level after practice? you can come over to my house for dinner

You: yes! i’d love to!

[ssamie]

six. “friends die together”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide 

masterlist.           suicide freak!

kenma slowly opened his eyes. the dim rays of the sun were slowly peeking through his bedroom window as he stretched and rolled around his bed, wrapping himself up in a blanket burrito as he felt his eyes slowly fluttering close once again. 

it had been atleast a week since he's actually gotten sleep, and now he's just trying to relish in the feeling of rest before he completely disregards it again. 

all of a sudden, his phone rang. 

"what the.." he mumbled with a groan 

it was currently five in the morning, and he knew kuroo was smart enough not to call him. especially since kenma would usually just be gaming or would just straight up ignore him. 

"hello?" he muttered to the phone, not bothering to check the ID 

"good morning!" y/n's chirpy la-di-da voice resonated from the phone 

immediately, kenma groaned and rolled his eyes. he had to fight the urge of hanging up the phone then and there. 

"what do you want? and why are you calling me so early in the morning?" kenma asked 

"now, now! don't be so stingy kenma-kun!" she laughed "i just wanted to check up on ya, that's all" she said, followed by soft humming of a melody 

kenma blinked as he groggily listened to her words. "oh. okay.." 

"thanks for that, i guess.." he said 

"aww! your voice is all deep and gravelly in the morning! very hot." she chirped 

kenma sighed. he could practically sense the stupid flirty smile appearing on her face. "and you sound oh so happy. as always." kenma chirped back sarcastically

a small smile grazed his lips as she started laughing on the other line. 

"oh, kenma! you're so funny!" she chuckled "when have i ever been happy?" 

"wait what-" 

"anyways, kenma-kun.." she trailed off, her cheerful tone now dropped as an eerily serious and guarded one replaced it. 

"y-yes?" kenma gulped 

"im afraid im in a tight spot as we speak. its quite critical. please come to the location i will send you." she spoke in a monotonous tone 

"huh? wait!" kenma exclaimed. he sat up on his bed, subconsciously reaching for his nekoma jacket which was messily laid out on the foot of his bed. "what are you talking about?" he asked, his hands were shaking, as well as his voice. 

"its a crisis! only you can help!" she said 

"okay. i-i'll be there.." 

humming under her breath, y/n patiently waited for kenma to arrive. she didn't have so much faith at first, but once she heard the soft thumping of feet on the ground, she grinned. 

"w-what happened?" kenma asked through ragged breaths as he skidded to a halt infront of her "a-and what are you wearing?" kenma asked 

he took notice of her rather formal attire, laying underneath the sand colored coat she had. his brows then shot up as he calmed his ragged breathing. 

"is this because of your weird detective work thing? did you get trapped?" kenma asked worriedly. when she didn't answer, he simply panicked even more. "why did you call me?! you should've called those other detective people!" kenma exclaimed 

"i got in myself" she admitted with a small innocent smile 

"what?" kenma deadpanned, now starting to regret running atleast eight blocks just to help her 

"well, you see.. i heard there's a way to commit suicide by getting stuck in an oil drum. so i decided to give it a shot" she said with the same innocent smile. she then chuckled sheepishly as she started sinking deeper into the oil drum. 

"but now that i've wedged myself in this deep, i can't get out on my own" she said 

kenma simply stared her down, looking unamused, tired and annoyed. "i see." he says 

"i think i might die" she pouted as she sank deeper into the drum. 

kenma grunted and sat on the ground, sitting a few feet from the drum she was stuck in. he was kind of impressed on how her whole body hadn't snapped in two yet. 

"well, isn't that what you wanted?" kenma said with a huff of annoyance 

"i like suicide" she said with a scoff, sounding somewhat offended "but i don't like suffering and pain! why would i?" 

"i see" kenma said with a sigh. he sat up from the ground and narrowed his eyes, trying to look for a way to free her from the oil drum

"also, i learned this only after i stuffed myself in here, but it wasn't even a suicide method!" she laughed 

"but, it was actually a torture method from the-" 

before she could even finish her sentence, she was cut off as kenma pushed the oil drum over, sending her and the drum rolling off. he let out a huge breath of air as he cradled his aching hands. 

"ni-nice job, kenma-kun" she squeaked out as she wiggled free of the drum. "but now.. we have only an hour left before school starts" she said as she patted down her clothes and combed her fingers through her hair 

"and i heard from nekomata-san that he has some news that you boys would surely love" she said as she stretched her aching muscles 

"are we really gonna move past the fact that you wedged yourself in an oil drum!?" kenma exclaimed in aggravation 

". . ." she looked at him with a dumb smile before sending him a wink and a thumbs up. 

"yep! we sure are!" 

"i hate you so much" kenma muttered 

she smirked teasingly and loomed over his shoulder "hehehe~ well if you hate me so much, then why go through all the trouble to help me?" she cooed 

kenma scoffed and flicked her away. "because we're.." he trailed off "nevermind.." a small blush covered his cheeks faintly, but it was enough to get her attention. 

she chuckled lowly and poked his cheeks. she narrowed her eyes and tauntingly stared him down. "oya? what's this, kenma-kun? do you like me or something?~" she teased 

kenma flinched and covered his cheeks with his hands "no! no i don't!" he quickly denied "i just thought that.." he muttered quietly

"since we're friends and all.. i thought it'd be right to help you.." kenma admitted bashfully 

stunned from his words, she couldn't really do anything but stare at him blankly with widened eyes. "we're friends?" she asked 

kenma spluttered at her response, suddenly feeling anxious and embarrassed, thinking that he overstepped their 'relationship' 

"um- i mean.. i just thought that since we've been hanging out but.." kenma said nervously. he fiddled with his hands as he looked down at his feet, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. 

"sorry, i guess i overstepped. sorry for misreading things" he apologised 

finally realising what she's done, she gasped in horror as she looked at his heartbroken expression  "oh my gosh." she muttered "im so sorry!" 

she frantically patted his back, and stroked his hair "i-i meant like- i didnt know you considered me as a friend!" she exclaimed  "i kind of thought you just see me as a suicidal leech or something!" she shrieked 

"im sorry kenma! kill me now!" she exclaimed dramatically 

kenma finally looked up to see her tearing some of her bandages off, only for her to tie it tightly around her neck. 

"im sorry!" she cried as she squeezed tightly, trying to strangle herself to death 

"wait! don't do that!" kenma said in panic. his hands pried the bandages off and hastily threw them away. 

"you don't have to kill yourself over me" kenma sighed 

she sniffled and crushed him in her arms "kenma! you are most certainly my most treasured friend!" she cried 

"i would die for you and with you!" 

"let's not go too far" kenma said with a small smile 

"shall we start with the double suicide now?" she asks, fully ignoring his interjection 

"no <3" 

"fukurodani?" she muttered, looking quite confused and clueless 

"yes. it seems a three-day practice match has been scheduled" nekomata said with a smile  "their coach suggested the idea and who was i to decline, am i right?" nekomata chuckled 

"this will be a good opportunity for the team to train and explore new ways of playing for future tournaments." nekomata then looked at y/n and sent her a close eyed smile. "and a chance for you to test your managing skills, y/n-san" he said 

she nodded in agreement. 

"well then, now that that's settled.. you’re free to go! rest up and eat well! you'll be playing nonstop starting tomorrow" nekomata said as he ushered them out of the gym 

"thanks, coach!" the team yelled 

as the team arrives by the gate, they started to disperse. fukunaga, inouka, teshiro, and shibayama ended up declining the offer of an afterschool hangout. they claimed they needed the rest for upcoming games, so they left them be. 

"bye guys! bye y/n-senpai! see you tomorrow!!" inouka yelled from across the street. the energetic first year was waving both his arms around while shibayama drags him along. fukunaga sends them a quick nod and a small wave before they completely disappear from sight. 

"hm, so what do you guys wanna do?" kai asks with a smile 

"let's eat!" lev suggested with a grin 

"sure. where should we go? i don't really have a particular craving right now" kai said as he looked at his friends expectantly 

"we should eat at the diner near that convenience store" yaku says "it's cheap and they serve great food" 

simply humming to herself, y/n takes a quick look at the boys who seemed to be lost in their own conversations. her (e/c) colored eyes then landed on kenma, who seemed to busy with his game. 

kuroo was holding on his bag, making sure the pudding-head wouldn't walk into oncoming traffic. she smiled at the boy, taking in his overwhelmingly beautiful features. 

yamamoto was beside her, ranting about his friends from karasuno and their 'goddess of a manager' 

"we’re here!" lev unnecessarily announced as he skipped into the said diner.  "what should we eat?" he asks 

"fish-" ; "meat-" 

yaku and kuroo freeze and look at each other. their eyes silently roam one another as they look at the other with judgment. 

"hah? are we really doing this again, yakkun?" kuroo scowled. the taller bedheaded male leaned down to get all up in yaku's face, while the latter simply did the same 

"dont call me that stupid nickname, bedhead!" yaku scowled as well "and fish? pssh, what are you a grandpa?" yaku said with a snicker 

"could you stop making comments proving you lack docosahexaenoic acid?" kuroo sneered in aggravation 

"you're ought to eat more fish to fix that.. maybe even your height problem!" kuroo taunted 

yaku scowled and gripped the taller boy's collar "your stupid face is begging to be hit!" 

"no! kuroo-san, don't let him hit you!" lev yelled "he's feral!" 

"oi! shut up!" taketora hissed as he covered lev's mouth with his hand 

yaku turned to face lev, evidently irked and angered by his comment. "hah?! come here, you tall lampost! -" 

"wah! yaku-san i didnt even do anything!" lev exclaimed with teary eyes as the shorter boy continued to kick him 

kai and taketora then took initiative to calm their friends down. partially because they didn't want anyone injured. but mostly because they were fighting infront of the diner, and it was starting to get embarrassing. 

"ke-n-ma~" she cooed in a sing song tone 

kenma sighed and quickly glanced at her, before averting his attention back to his game "what?" he said 

she smiled and laced their arms together. she then pointed to a bridge not so far away from where they were standing. "you see that bridge?" she asked "and the pretty river under it?" 

"oh god. i see where this is going." kenma groaned. he turned off his game and followed her finger, eyeing the bridge she was talking about. 

"wouldn't it be so nice if we just jump off-" 

"how about we don't do that?" kenma cut her off with a sigh 

"but you're my friend right?" she whined childishly "don't friends die together?!" 

"how about we don't die at all. doesn't that sound better?" kenma tried to convince her with a sheepish smile 

her smile fell as she narrowed his eyes, seemingly disgusted and offended by his statement. 

"what? no, not at all." 

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Four: The Three Broomsticks

A/N: This is the fourth part to my fanficiton ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The following days transpired just as the day before had done; a lot of potion brewing and a little conversation. However, more notably Severus Snape was actually participating in the conversation for once. Aria could not yet say she had seen a pleasant side to the man, however he was acceptable to converse with at the very least. By the end of the third day he no longer pretended to busy himself with textbooks and he actually elected to help with the potion brewing for once. Being able to talk to the Professor and ask him any questions helped her a great deal in learning the correct procedures. She felt herself being more at ease around him, and soon enough they had developed their own way of working together, that she found quite enjoyable. Even Severus had become accustomed to the woman's presence in his classroom as she pranced around the cauldrons, laughing every now and then at his sarcastic comments he hadn't entirely meant to be humorous.

Aria had been lost in thought as she stirred the final potion to completion. "I was thinking." She said cautiously. "It's pretty hard finding things to occupy myself at nights, there isn't much to do here, except aimlessly wandering the halls. How do you feel about maybe taking a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, have some dinner, maybe drinks? It would make a change from the elves cooking, although I admit they'd be pretty hard to beat."

"I appreciate the offer Miss Dumbledore. However you know how I feel about spending time with Mr. Hagrid, I doubt a change of setting would convince me, especially with the addition of alcohol." Severus spoke, his tone softer than it usually would at such a request.

"Hagrid wouldn't be there." She hastened to add. "He mentioned he has business out with the castle grounds. I just figured since the two of us would be here anyway, it wouldn't make any sense for us to sit alone."

"You may have forgotten, Miss Dumbledore, but I like being alone. I eat alone every night, and I do not wish to simply be your back up plan, now Hagrid has left you to do the same."

"I don't mean for you to be a back up plan Sev- Professor Snape. I just think it might do us both some good. After all haven't we been getting along better these past few days." Aria wanted to get to know the man more, she felt they had got off on the wrong foot and the way to fix this was spending more time together, and hopefully they would even become friends at the end of it all.

"You haven't been as disagreeable as I expected you would be, I will admit. This does not change my previous opinion." He stated.

"At least consider it." She pleaded.

With a sigh Snape flipped another page. "I'll consider it." He agreed, continuing reading his book, no longer interested in conversing with the young witch.

The next few days dragged in more than ever. Aria enjoyed keeping herself busy and was not used to having this much free time. The only thing keeping her sane was her passions for drawing and nature. She chose to combine the two and spend her days outside, sketching the beautiful landscape she found herself in. She preferred to opt for portraits, capturing the essence of humanity in her sketches, but trees were fine too. She shrugged.

Sunday morning eventually came around and Aria chose to tackle something she had been putting off ever since her arrival at Hogwarts. A small pile of letters had accumulated on her bedside table, ignoring each one as they came in. She immediately recognised the scrawled writing on the envelope and could not face opening them. Every second day she received a letter and it broke her heart knowing what lay within. Reading each one carefully, she knew she could not face writing the response the sender desperately awaited. Instead she scribbled a small, generic reply, making sure to include that she would be too busy to write often due to her crazy schedule. This of course was a lie as she had virtually nothing planned for the next couple of weeks until term begun. Aria did not want to face even reading any more letters as long as she remained at Hogwarts, and so she swore to herself she wouldn't no matter how hard she knew it would be.

A firm knock echoed through her quarters just as Aria sent her letter off with beautiful brunette barn owl. "Come in." She called curious as too who would be calling on her. Shocked to see Professor Snape striding into her private chambers, Aria couldn't help but question his presence there.

"I've had time to think about your offer." He stated blankly, visibly out of his comfort zone.

"And?" Aria pressed.

"And I suppose there would be no harm in joining you for one meal. After all, as you say, we both will be here alone, we may as well keep each other company."

"Fantastic!" His colleague gleamed, jumping up from her position on her couch. "Just give me some time to get ready and I'll meet you there? Say six oclock at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Six is fine with me. Don't be late." He warned, leaving the room just as quickly as he came.

*

Aria entered the Three Broomsticks at five forty-five, ensuring Snape had no reason to reprimand her once again for her tardiness. It stunned her to find the sallow skinned man already sitting at a booth, firewhiskey in hand, patiently waiting on her arrival. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she watched him tap out a rhythm on the side of his glass as he took yet another sip. She wondered if it was out of impatience or nervousness, either way she thought it slightly endearing to see.

Hearing the click of a familiar set of heels quickly approaching him, Severus Snape looked up from his glass, almost needing to hold back the urge to smile, but managed to keep his composure. He rose to his feet, holding out a hand to greet the fellow Professor, instantly cursing himself for such a foolish action. "Sit." He commanded, motioning to the seat across from his own. "I'll get you a drink."

"Oh no, there's really no need Professor." Aria insisted, shaking her head, causing her beach-like waves to brush over her exposed shoulders. "I'm afraid alcohol doesn't agree with me at the best of times." She admitted.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Miss Dumbledore, but as I recall it was you who suggested a meal and drinks. Or did I mishear you." Snape asked, feeling almost foolish, having already down two glasses of Firewhiskey.

"I did say that didn't I." The young Miss Dumbledore blushed. "I apologise, sometimes I just cannot stop myself when I speak, I often forget the consequences of drinking, which as it happens is the ultimate consequence of drinking." She chuckled.

The older man shot her a small look of disdain, not at all as amused as she had expected him to be. He let out a small grunt of dissatisfaction, and proceed to down the dregs of his drink.

It took a few more awkward moments of silence and Severus being slightly more irritable that Aria had wished for before the two finally settled in to a rhythm of conversation. Soon enough it came time to eat and Aria took it upon herself to call over the waitress. As he ordered Aria watched as Severus made no effort to look up at the woman serving him. It crossed her mind that maybe this was a deliberate attempt at ignoring her voluptuous breast and curvature of her hips. However, on the other hand she considered that maybe he truly was not interested as she thought back to their conversation a few days before.

"She's stunning." Aria couldn't help but observe. "You should go for it, chat her up, she might be into the dark, brooding, intellectual type."

"As I told you before, Miss Dumbledore, dating it not top priority for me. If you find her so attractive why don't you, as you say, 'chat her up'." Snape replied sarcastically, not expecting the woman to take him seriously.

"I might just." She said, finding her eyes following the waitress back to the kitchen for a moment or two. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous as the witch watched the woman walk away from their table, though he was not sure why.

"So tell me Professor Snape." The young Professor began. "What are the other Professor's at Hogwarts like? Who am I took look out for? Who's my competition." She grinned, wriggling her eyebrows menacingly.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." He hummed in response.

"You know." She shrugged. "Who are you close with? Will I have to fight them for custody of you." She laughed, although the Professors expression did not change. "What I'm trying to say Severus is, I'm new here, besides yourself and Hagrid I know no one. I'd like to consider us friends, though you may have a different opinion. I was simply trying to express my nervousness at being the new girl. I was hoping you'd be able to help me settle in, introduce me to your other friends and colleagues that is." She sighed.

"You do not seem to understand my disposition, Miss Dumbledore, that which I feel I have made abundantly clear. I am not one to socialise. I am not one to make friends. I am here to teach and teach alone. I do what your grandfather asks of me and that is the extent of my relationship with the staff. They understand how I am, and respect that. I do not bother them and in return they do not bother me. You have been the first to struggle with this concept, Professor." He struggled to grant her the title.

"I didn't realise." Aria stuttered slightly, not understanding how she had not caught on. "I had simply thought you had a vendetta against me, due to my position here at Hogwarts. I didn't realise you shut yourself off from everyone. I apologise for any inconvenience I have caused you." The tone of her voice softening, becoming almost a whisper-like volume. She was embarrassed she had forced him out of his habits and brought him to the Three Broomsticks to clear the air. She realised now it had been a pointless act. This man had been stuck in his ways for over a decade and she would not change that a fortnight into knowing him.

"I am here, aren't I." Severus stated, trying not sound as harsh as he previously had. "Had I truly despised you I would not be wasting my time here with you. I have come to the realisation that if we are to work in such a close proximity to each other, it would be best if we maintained at least some level of civility with one another."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Professor." She replied shyly, remaining silent. Immediately Severus regretted opening his mouth. He didn't entirely hate her company and in fact he had found himself starting to enjoy the evening. It took him a minute or two to gain the confidence to speak the words aloud, but he figured the pay off was worth the sacrifice of a small amount of pride.

"Will you stop fretting woman." He demanded. "I was just beginning to find your constant rambling tolerable. If I wished to spend the evening in silence, I wouldn't have made the effort to accept your invitation to come here tonight. You have managed to entice me thus far, do not spoil what may be your one chance at a friendship with me."

"A friendship?" This piqued her interest.

"You know what I mean. A working relationship. A tolerance. A chance for me to accept your position as my apprentice." Snape corrected himself, fumbling over his words.

"Mmmm." She smirked, taking a small sip of butterbeer. "I'll just pretend a friendship is off the cards for us then, Professor. Although I don't recall you mentioning trips to Hogsmeade as an exception to your reclusive personality." She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Despite his annoyance at her persuasive abilities, and daring comments, he was glad he had convinced her back to her previously inquisitive self.

Both choosing to ignore any reservations they might have about their 'non-friendship' the two spoke for hours with ease. With each empty glass of fire whiskey Severus Snape found himself relaxing more into the conversation, his reputation becoming a distant memory. It was the first he had allowed himself to truly relax in possibly the whole of his life.

It seemed in one evening Severus had gotten to know all there was to know about Aria's life, although strangely she mentioned nothing regarding her family and Snape chose not to pursue the subject. He loved listening to her talk, she was a rambler, rarely needing any interjection from him except the odd mumble here and there and that's the way he liked it. He was a listener, he loved taking in new information no matter the subject. Most importantly it meant he did not have to share anything about himself, unless the woman specifically asked, and even in those rare occasions, she knew better than to pressure him when he chose not to provide an answer.

Aria told him of the schooling she received in Ilvermorny, her school in America. She told him of her job working in a local alchemists after she left school. She confided in him of her dream to become a professor, or an auror even, really she was just desperate to make a difference in someone's life and her dream would not succeed by spending the rest of her days working in a dingy old shop. "And that's why your grandfather brought you here?" He questioned, the topic piquing his interest. "You told him of your dream to teach?" "I guess you could say that." She agreed, not wanting to raise any more questions than necessary. "He didn't bring me from America though, if that's what your meaning. I was already here. My mother sent me to school in America to protect me, with all that Wizarding War carry on and what with me being a Dumbledore, she didn't want to put me in any more danger than I already was. She remained here with my father however and I visited on the holidays." Snape raised a single brow at the mention of her mother and father but changed the subject completely, seeing the woman being to shy away slightly.

"It's getting late." Severus observed. "I should walk you back to the castle before it gets too dark."

"That would be nice" Aria smiled, rising from her seat.

The couple made their way back to the beautiful lit up castle as the sky turned a deep shade of blue above them. They continued to speak all the way down to the dungeons, this time Severus participating just as much as Aria. The Potions Master escorted his apprentice to the door of her quarters, the two of them swaying awkwardly not knowing where to go from here.

"You can come in for a drink... if you'd like." Aria hesitated to ask. "Although I'm not sure I have anything alcoholic, so tea might need to suffice."

"I appreciate the invitation, but it's been a long day for me, I'm afraid I must retire for the night." Now they were back in the familiar castle grounds Severus felt as though he had suddenly returned to his body, and the events of the night lingered at the forefront of his mind, a deep feeling of regret developing in his stomach.

"Very well." Aria agreed, feeling slightly uncomfortable herself. "Good night, Professor Snape."

"Good night, Miss Dumbledore." He spoke softly, rocking anxiously the balls of his feet, waiting for the woman to disappear into her quarters. With a simple nod and one final smile from Aria, she vanished from his sight. The sound of the door closing echoed through the halls, ringing in Severus' ears, and suddenly he felt more alone than he ever had before.

Aria stood with her back to the door, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. As much as she enjoyed the evening with her mentor, the intense awkwardness that occurred at her door, got her thinking about the man on the other side. Her intention was to get to know the man better, and though he did not confide in her much, she felt she had achieved that, maybe more than anyone ever had.

Why had he allowed her to get close to him when he claimed to distance himself from the world?

This thought circled her brain for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hello everyone, happy Fraxus Week. For the two bonus days, I've murged the prmopts together to make a two-shot. The second chapter will be uploaded on July the 22nd. I hope you all enjoy it, and head over to @fuckyeahfraxus to see all the other content for the event.

Links: Chapter Two ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter One

Year: X782

Location: Magnolia, Fiore

Professional Wizardry was still new to Freed. He hadn't wandered into the profession without the expectation that he'd be forced to do things that previously would have been unthinkable, or that his life wouldn't change entirely the moment he had joined a guild, but he felt like he was learning a new aspect to his profession every day. His expectations of the job and the reality of the job was almost entirely different, and Freed found himself enjoying the challenge.

He'd thought he'd be on missions near constantly. He'd go to some place in Fiore, use his magic to fight off a monster or dark wizard, and get paid for it. He hadn't expected there to be a community attached to it, that they'd be such a rigid tier system of missions, and how missions could be anything from finding a lost item, to being on a team attempting to disband a cult. There was so much more, and it was all fascinating.

After his eighteenth birthday three months prior, the jobs that he was allowed to accept had greatly opened up. They were more difficult, presented him with a greater threat to his life, and he was relishing the challenge. He could have gone on those missions earlier, but he much preferred working alone. While he was accepting that being in Fairy Tail meant there was a certain level of comradery with fellow guildmates, and that with that comradery there also came obligations, he didn't see the point in splitting his finances with others while he was powerful enough to perform these missions on his own and take home all the money himself.

The exception to this was Laxus Dreyar.

Master Makarov had approached Freed on his birthday with a proposition. He was worried for his grandson, wanted someone to look after him, and wondered if Freed would mind occasionally attending missions with him. He claimed that, while officially the money would be split between them, Makarov himself would make up the difference for Freed so that he would be paid in full. Freed had agreed, and that had been that.

Up until that afternoon, Freed had not gone on any missions with Laxus. They'd hardly spoken, even with Makarov's assurances that they'd get along. Freed would only be on certain missions and that afternoon's mission was apparently one of them. Makarov told Laxus Freed needed training in more advanced missions, and that he should be the one to do it. Laxus hadn't argued.

Somehow, while attending to a supposedly A-Class mission, they found themselves in Magnolia's hot spring and spa resort.

It was surveillance, so the mission stated. The Rune Army themselves had place the job, stating that they believed that members of a potential dark guild were using the site to host meetings and plan attacks. The resort had been trying to get rid of the suspects but couldn't do so without putting their staff in danger, and having an army presence suddenly appearing would tip the dark guild off and give them time to hide all evidence. The Rune Army wanted mages from Magnolia who could plausibly be in the spa for leisure time, but could also defend themselves from attack, to watch them for suspicious activity. Freed had a feeling that Laxus had taken the job to have a day relaxing in a spa, rather than because he felt the Rune Army needed the help.

None of this would have been a problem for Freed – he'd long since accepted that what constituted a job was a wide array of things – if it weren't for the elephant in the room. Or to be more precise, the Adonis wearing nothing but swimming trunks in the room.

Freed was a professional, but he was also eighteen years old and in the presence of an undeniably handsome man. Nobody, no matter their opinions on Laxus, would state that he was anything but sexy. Tall, blonde, square jawed, barrel chested with a scar over his eye and a tattoo over his pecs. His abs looked to be cut from steel and his legs comparable to tree trunks and, well, Freed was only human. Laxus was distracting.

"So," Laxus suddenly spoke as he slung a towel over his shoulder. "I don't exactly know what Gramps wants you to learn from this, but I'll try and teach ya some shit. Surveillance rule number one: fit in with yer surroundings. You seem pretty good at that."

It was only a moment, but Laxus' assessing gaze over Freed's body was exhilarating. But unprofessional.

Laxus didn't seem to notice, and instead started to walk out of the locker room they'd both changed in, and towards the area where they were meant to be watching. Freed followed, making sure to look straight ahead, rather than give into temptation to check out the man's back and his ass, and it wasn't a difficult task. While Freed had no qualms admitting his attraction to the blonde, he knew where his focus needed to be put. The mission was important, not his hormonal desire for his guildmate.

"That's the door we need to watch," Laxus said as he tilted his head to the door. Freed knew that of course, but Laxus was speaking again before he could say anything. "Pretty open room, lots of vantage points. Where should we go?"

Ah, it was a test then. Good, a worthy distraction and hopefully it would nip any ideas that Freed was in some way Laxus' inferior in the bud. Freed looked around the room quickly, glanced towards the door that they needed to keep in their sights, and quickly made a plan of how the rest of the day would go. Strategy was his strong suit.

"The hot tub," He said firmly. "At least for now."

"Why only for now?" Laxus asked. There was no condensation in his tone, he was simply asking for Freed's reasoning.

"Staying in the same place throughout the afternoon would be suspicious. We know who the suspects are, but that doesn't mean they're the only people involved, so we need to look like regular customers constantly," Freed explained, speaking quietly as they walked further into the room. "As we've only just got here, it makes sense for us to use a facility instantly. Going to sit by the pool or at the juice bar would be odd, at least for now. The massage tables and spa treatments are too distracting, but the hot tub allows us to sit and watch without anyone questioning it. It'll give us the lay of the land without drawing any attention on us."

"And we both have to do it?" Laxus probed. "Wouldn't it make more sense to split up and cover more ground.

"Later," Freed dismissed. "We came in together; we'll need to do things at the same time at least once in a while. As I said, the treatments are distracting and as such we should do them one at a time rather than simultaneously. If we spend the whole day apart after we've arrived together, it'll raise suspicion. The hot tub is a good vantage point, and so a good way to be seen together while not losing an advantage."

Laxus thought for a moment, before nodding, clasping Freed on the bare shoulder, and giving him the smallest of grins. "Yer good at this."

"Of course I am," Freed retorted, and that seemed to make Laxus grin wider.

They walked towards the hot tub, which was at the back wall, attached to the main pool. As it was a Tuesday afternoon, only a few people were loitering around the resort and the hot tub was empty. Freed placed his towel on the handle provided and walked into the hot tub, soaking his entire body sans his head in the hot, bubbling water. His muscles relaxed instantly, and he felt himself slinking down ever so slightly.

"You ain't here to relax," Laxus said in a voice almost teasing as he climbed the stairs into the tub. "Eyes on the mission, remember."

Freed went to point out that, given Laxus was looking at him rather than at the door, he was just as distracted. But Laxus chose that moment to sit down, submerging his chest in water and spreading his arms wide. His left hand was close to Freed's shoulder, and Freed felt that it was an act of great resilience that he didn't give into base urges and watch Laxus as he adjusted to his relaxed, wet – very very wet – state.

"I will if you will," Freed eventually said back, looking towards the door. He missed how Laxus' gaze lingered on his body just a little too long.

They fell into silence, and Freed made a genuine effort to keep his gaze away from the man who shared the hot tub with him. He truly hadn't thought this through. He hadn't realised that, as good as Laxus looked from afar, he looked better up-close. Maybe he should have denied the request to join the mission. And maybe he should have worn a looser swimsuit…

"So," Laxus said after a while, looking up at the ceiling for a moment to crack his neck. "How much is the old man paying you to spy on me?"

Freed halted, and removed his eyes from the door and looked towards Laxus. His face only, of course. "Excuse me."

"Rule two, you gotta trust the guys you're working with. So don't bullshit yer team members," Laxus said with a little grin. "Answer the question."

"For every mission that I do with you, he'll cover all the money you take from it, so I'm fully paid," Freed explained. He saw no point in lying.

"Guess we're gonna be doing some well-paying missions together then, if we wanna bleed the old bastard dry," Laxus smirked, and it was an oddly alluring look on the man. Freed looked away from it, and towards the door again. "You gonna tell him that I'm onto him?"

"I'd rather keep the deal up, I can get good money doing this," Freed shrugged, and he saw Laxus grinning a little from the corner of his eye. He tried not to pay attention to the expression, and instead focused on a man who could fit the description of a suspect. The man walked past the door, but that didn't mean he wasn't who they were looking for. "Why did you agree to this if you knew your grandfather wants reports on you?"

"Because it's gonna happen anyway, might as well accept it," Laxus shrugged. "I knew he was gonna get someone to do it, kinda glad that it's you."

"Why?"

"Because yer interesting," Laxus said, looking up at the ceiling again and closing his eyes as he lowered himself deeper into the water. Freed's gaze flickered low on the man's abs for a moment before looking to the door again. "We get a hell of a lot of mages joining Fairy Tail. Lots of people who think they're tough shit and wanna become the next powerhouse. Yer the only person I think whose got a chance of actually doing it."

The compliment was flattering. Laxus had something of a reputation for being generally rude and selfish, and either they were exaggerated or Laxus was making an exception. Freed felt it was a combination of both, but he accepted the compliment without complaint.

"You know my magic?" He asked.

"I've been keeping tabs on you since you came here, yer interesting," Laxus nodded, wading a hand through the water absently and sending ripples through the bubbles. "People give the darker magics a lot of shit. They're idiots. You can kick ass, and you're not bad to be around. Pretty much the opposite of a Fairy Tail mage right now."

"Does that opinion extend to you?"

"What d'you think?" Laxus asked with a cocky expression that Freed found himself enjoying.

"I wouldn't be here if I thought you weak."

"Good."

They fell into a silence, with the bubbling water warming Freed and making his muscles loose and relaxed. He kept a steady gaze on the door, making sure to avert his eyes when someone walked into the room, so his staring wasn't too obvious. It was a worthy distraction, and one well needed now that Laxus had apparently been watching him for all of eight months. That, combined with the fact that Laxus was wearing swimming trunks and was less than five feet away, could all become rather an issue if Freed didn't focus on anything else.

"Okay, your turn to relax now," Laxus said, cutting through Freed's thoughts. His voice was a little more relaxed. "You can't stay lookin' at the door all day. You'll get a crick in the neck."

"I'll be fine," Freed dismissed.

"Doesn't matter," Laxus stated, shifting slightly to get closer to Freed. It was to get a better view of the door, but the body heat that rivalled the warmth of the water was a noticeable feeling and Freed tensed. "Rule Three: lean on yer teammates. Sometimes you'll need to slack off, that ain't something to fight against. So long as someone in the team is on full alert it isn't too bad a problem. So sit back, close yer eyes, and let me take over for a while."

Freed was hesitant, but Laxus was clearly taking over keeping his gaze on the door, and Freed eventually found himself sliding down to further cover his body in water, and closed his eyes as relaxation flowed through him.

When his mind began to slip, Freed found himself thinking that Laxus was actually rather helpful. Freed wasn't quite so arrogant to think he knew everything about wizarding work, and an S-Class mage would have things to teach. Laxus especially would be useful to learn from, given their apparently similarities in working styles. Freed would need to learn how to work in a team, even if it wasn't fond of the idea, and Laxus might know how to offer actual advice rather than pointless mantras like 'your team should be your family' and other nonsense he'd heard from Fairy Tail. Without lying about why he was there, his team-ups with Laxus might be mutually beneficial.

Perhaps relaxing wasn't too bad an idea, either. Freed's mind had been somewhat consumed by his work. Finding a place to live as a seventeen-year-old had been difficult, and he'd put in a lot of effort in getting rent on time. But now he got better paying jobs, that urgency could fall away a little.

With a bit of effort, he tried to push the fact he was on a job to the back of his mind.

Once this whole thing was dealt with, maybe he would invest in a pass for the resort. In his preliminary research for the mission, he'd heard good things about the facilities, and even though he'd only been in the hot tub as of yet, he felt inclined to agree.

Though perhaps Laxus' company was partially to blame for his mood.

Fairy Tail had sometimes felt like a lonely place. Their focus on friendship, family and their revoltingly sentimental ideas about goodness were nice in principle, but when you were on the outside looking in it could get under your skin. Freed knew he was at fault for his lack of relationships with his guildmates, but perhaps Laxus might be a good starting point. Ironic, given that nearly everyone had told him Laxus was off-putting and rude.

The bubbles sent a pleasant chill over him, and Freed felt his tenseness ebbing away. When he got a pass for the resort, he'd have to explore the idea of a massage. He'd never thought it appealing, but perhaps he could be convinced.

There wouldn't be much convincing needed if Laxus were the one massaging him.

"Shit," Laxus hissed, and Freed's eyes whipped open. A rush of panic filled him that somehow he might have said that aloud, but the idea was ridiculous. He looked to Laxus to see worry flickering over him. "The suspect saw me looking, I think he went to get backup."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked, mind suddenly back on focus again.

"No, but we made eye contact. He's suspicious of me," Laxus was clenching his teeth, seemingly annoyed at himself. "We can't fuck it up, the Rune Army don't take shit like this lightly. We need a distraction or to get out."

"A distraction will be easier," Freed concluded. "Does he know for sure that we're looking out for him?"

"I wasn't being careful. I was watching him for about a full minute without being subtle. Pretty sure he knows it's not a passing glance."

"But that doesn't mean you know what he's doing, it just means you were looking at him," Freed mused aloud. "What if we throw him off the scent, give him another reason for why you were so focused on him."

"The hell would that be?" Laxus growled a little, and Freed scanned the room. They were the only two people in there now.

"Maybe you wanted him gone," Freed thought, plans forming in his head. Many of them he had to dismiss outright. "Perhaps if he sees something he wasn't meant to see, he'll think you were looking at him because you wanted him to leave."

"What the hell would I wanna do that I wouldn't want him seeing?" Laxus snapped, agitation rising. An idea came to Freed. It was good, it would get them out of the situation no doubt, but it might have a few repercussions in the future. Many arguments both for and against it flung through his mind, and his indecision must have been obvious, as Laxus continued talking a moment later. "Rule four, if a mission's going to shit and you think you can salvage it, you do it. So if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Freed went to open his mouth to explain his idea, but he heard movement from across the room and glanced towards the door. It was opening, and two more suspects were walking through it, stone-faced and angry.

Before he could second guess himself, he launched himself onto Laxus and began to kiss him.

It was a sloppy, energetic, and passionate kiss. Laxus was frozen for a few moments, but Freed forced himself to push on in the hope that Laxus was trying to understand what was happening. Laxus quickly started to kiss back, and a hand ran down Freed's back, pulling him close. Freed began to mess his hands through Laxus' hair, heart pounding and a ringing in his ears cutting through his panic. He couldn't think of how bad an idea this was, about how there were probably hundreds of other ways to deal with this, because rumours stated that the dark mages were powerful, and he didn't want to get into a fight he could avoid.

Kissing wasn't enough for his plan. People kissed all the time. They needed to get… intimate. Freed began to run his hands over Laxus' torso – damn was he strong – and he felt large hands groping at his ass in return. He gasped into the kiss, and forced himself to remember that it was just for the mission.

The sound of a door closing snapped him back to reality, and he glanced to the side without breaking the kiss to see the suspects had left. He pulled himself off of Laxus, to find he'd been dragged so he was straddling the man's thigh at some point, and turned away with a blush, panting quietly.

"Good plan," Laxus said, voice also breathless. "Think it threw them off."

"Yes," Freed agreed. He couldn't look towards Laxus now. He simply couldn't. "I'm sorry for doing-"

"Don't, you did what you had to do," Laxus cut him off, voice somewhat stern, which wasn't helping the situation. "I would've done the same if I thought of it, and you fixed my fuck up. So no complaints."

"Okay," Freed didn't feel any better. He stood up and reached for his towel, still not looking at Laxus. "I think I should sit at the juice bar for a while, we've been together for long enough."

"Wait," Laxus began, shifting slightly but Freed was climbing from the hot tub before he could reach for him. "This ain't- you don't have to leave on my account."

"I'm not," Freed lied. Because of course he was. Laxus might be straight, he might not like Freed, and he might not appreciate being kissed like that at random. "If we spend all out time in the hot tub, it'll look odd. It was overdue, more so now they've seen us."

Laxus looked ready to argue, but sighed and nodded. Freed walked towards the juice bar, fighting the urge to touch his lips. Electricity danced over them.

Kissing Laxus… it felt like being struck by lightning.

[cottoncandy-jester]

✨lie down darling it's time for a dream✨

Princess (hajime iwaizumi)

Okay so..once again I was inspired by someone's random drabble or thought. The person you all are to blame for this trashy horny mess is @iwaizoom

✨Sorry this is late was busy telling gender dysphoria to fuck off and it made me lose inspiration for a few days✨

Sorry it's short was gonna type more but tumblr app said absolutely not and deleted my last two drafts if this

This story contains: public sex, feral iwaizumi, light nipple play, iwaizumi with dick piercings, degrading, light breeding kink

A soft hum escaped you as you walked into the familiar shop that you tend to visit everyday, this time you were on a mission. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a jacket which wasn't so bad but under that jacket was quite the surprise.

"babe!"

You called out only to see iwaizumi look up at you from cleaning the needles, it wasn't surprising to see you here but he didn't have any other clients today so it was just you two.

"hmm? Whats up princess?"

"I want a tattoo!"

Your words made him quite excited as he already had ideas of what tattoos to give you, he's done small tattoos for you in the past and everytime it gets him excited to know that he will be the one marking you and making your beautiful body into art.

"alright take a seat and tell me what ya want"

Phase one was now in order, you happily skip over to the chair before took a seat and unzipped your jacket while iwaizumi was setting everything up.

"well I was thinking of getting your name, I want it here!"

When iwaizumi looked up his eyes widened as he gulped and watched you feeling his cock harden

You lifted your shirt before trailing your hand to the area sitting right above your chest, iwaizumi's eyes were glued to your chest as he bit his lip to hold back to urge to attack your nipples with his mouth, honestly ever since you got those damn things he has been fucking you like crazy and it was coming to a point where it was like a trigger to him

It was like his mind blanks and next thing he knows he's balls deep inside of you with you shaking under him and begging him to stop before you break, this time he kept from blanking and simply stood up before pointing a shaking hand to the room in the back. He was now sweating as he tried to form words but his mind was filled with different positions to put you in so he could make you scream.

"g-gonna come up with the design in the back sit tight, and get ready"

As son as the words left his mouth he was rushing off while you pulled your shirt down holding back a devilish laugh, honestly his reaction was way too perfect.

When it came to doing the actual piercing, iwaizumi sat in front of you with his knees in-between his legs as his eyes were focused on your tattoo but ever so often his chest would brush against yours and the feeling of your nipples touching his thin tank top made him want to stop and just ravage you

finish the tattoo

Finish the tattoo

Finish

The

Tattoo

He was sweating bullets and once he finished he never wrapped a tattoo faster in his life before slamming the ink gun down panting softly as he glanced at his jeans which showed his throbbing bulge. He couldn't stand that fake innocent smile you gave him as you tried to pull your shirt down only for him to rip his gloves off before yanking your shirt right off before he reached out and gropes your chest with his thumbs rubbing along your nipples

"ah! hajim-"

"shut the fuck up, you nasty girl"

You felt a chill go down your spine while a feel of arousal hit you right in between your legs, he was definitely pissed off and that only made you more horny. You immediately reached for his bulge only to feel him slap your hand away before he leaned forward resting his hands at your hips while his tongue replaced his hands now trailing his tongue along your breasts but also being mindful of your new tattoo

"you thought you were so cute strolling in here and practially shoving your tits in my face knowing what I'll do, god you piss me so off when you act like a needy slut"

His voice was deep as he moved one of his hands to shove it down your pants now feeling your wet hole that begged for him to feel it, the slick feeling made him smirk as he trailed his lips down your stomach, he slipped your underwear to the side only to plunge two fingers deep into your wet cunt.

"why is the princess so wet, were you hoping to piss me off like this?"

"Mmmm..n-no.."

Iwaizumi now pumped his fingers faster in and out of as he watched your lustful expression as you squirmed around lightly. He simply pulled back only to hear your panicked and needy whines with a light scoff as he licked the juices off his fingers while watching you whine and babble about how you needed him.

Honestly he felt the exact same about you, he didn't have the time for foreplay or any of that like he usually did so it wasn't quick before he was throwing his clothes off and doing the same to you, his cock pressed against your wet cunt as he rubbed the piercings against your slick pussy.

All ten silver balls starting from the base with and ending just below the tip with just an inch of space in between each piercing got soaked in your juices which only fueled his lust more to the point where he just couldn't help but shove himself into you.

"fuck- how do you always stay so tight baby, we've been fucking almost every day and yet your cunt is still milking my cock like this"

As he pushed deeper he watched as you would shudder everytime his piercings rubbed against your inner walls, the sight of you enjoying that always made him chuckle.

"ah..you like my piercings? Yeah baby I love yours too, such sexy little things"

"h-hajime..please"

He wrapped a hand around your throat and added light pressed as he shoved his cock as deep it would go before glaring down at you, his cold eyes alone could make you cum but you knew why he was pissed off.

"you know what to call me princess, now say it"

"d-daddy-"

A single word was enough for him to start sloppily thrusting in and out of you with little to no mercy, he leaned down kissing and biting along your breasts but made sure to avoid touching your new tattoo though he did have the sadistic idea of cumming all over it but he figured he should wait til it was healed for him to do that

"ah daddy! P-please-"

"hmm? What do you want, babydoll? You're almost crying so badly you must need something good"

He glanced up at you as he pulled back now pulling your legs over his shoulder as he deeply thrusts into you with an unsteady breath.

"p-please fill me with your hot cum! I want to have your babies"

Now iwaizumi is normally not the type to go absolutely crazy during sex unless you pissed him off enough to engage in angry sex which has happened before but this, oh this was different and before he knew it he was ravaging your poor cunt giving you animalistic thrusts as he thought about your stomach swollen with his baby, that would prove that you are all his plus he did want kids with you.

"if that's what you fucking want baby, I'll pump a baby into you and get you pregnant, our baby. God you drive me so damn crazy you want me to breed you? Yeah you fucking do you naughty girl, be my little pregnant wife. "

Iwaizumi was now kissing your inner thigh as he roughly slammed his hips into you letting out a shaky breath as he felt you tighten against him, a feeling he knew all too well.

"is the little slut going to cum? Do it then baby. Coat this cock with your slutty pussy juice and scream out for daddy!"

"ah! Daddy- please please please-"

Iwaizumi couldn't help but chuckle at your crazy begging and sobbing, his eyes landing on your breasts bouncing with each rough thrust he gives you, those damn piercings would be the death of him.

As he felt his climax approaching he was now like a savage animal breaking you with his harsh thrusts and wrapping his hands around your neck starting to squeeze it but of course not too tightly but just enough for you to feel the rush if adrenaline.

"cum for me pretty girl! Cum for daddy like I know you want to!"

His demand and slamming into you one final time made you squirt all over the chair and his cock. The sight alone drove iwaizumi to his own climax now filling you up and watching as your body twitched and shook under him.

As you both started to come down from your highs he just realized how messed up the chair was, from the sweat and cum to the claw marks gifted from you during this little session.

A wave of annoyance hit him as he glared at you with a light scowl, damn you! He couldn't really stay mad for long and he simply pulled out before kissing the top of your head.

"oi, get dressed we are going home alright?"

As he moved to get dressed he could hear a comment from you that made him pause and feel his cock harden all over again.

"i-i should get my clit pierced, yeah hajime?"

Okay so maybe another round wouldn't kill you both, after all shop was closed and you two had all the time in the world.

[lauwrite1225]

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : Happy Finan Friday dear readers!! Last chapter I have never had so much comments on this fic! Thank you so much!! And I guess I should add more people pointing a gun at Vicky? Lmaoo

Warnings : blood and death (it's back dudes)

Chapter 5 : I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

Victoria gasps when she sees the man, his threatening eyes studying her briefly, searching for a weapon.

“Victoria?” Finan calls her from the entrance, alarmed by her sudden silence. 

She’s petrified, swallowing hard as her gaze jumps from the gun to the man’s face. She opens her mouth to warn Finan but the man moves quickly, his free hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her against him and instead she lets out a frightened scream. Her back hits the man’s chest and she shivers when she feels the edge of the silencer on his gun on her temple. In a second, Finan appears in the doorway, his eyes widening at the situation. Her gaze locks with Finan’s, her breath shaking in fear while she can feel the man’s breath against the side of her face.

“Don’t move or I'll shoot her.” He barks while the sound of steps coming from behind the Irishman resounds, and Vicky can barely distinguish two other armed men. Finan tilts his head slightly while raising his hands in a sign of peace, just enough to make her understand he has the control over the situation. She would have gladly replied that it looks far from it as they are encircled by three men with guns and are both unarmed. “Good.” The man mutters. 

But Finan doesn’t stay still, instead he turns around and in a swift move he punches one of the two men behind him in the face. He stumbles back, his gun falling on the floor. The other immediately shoots Finan in the shoulder, making him grunt in pain and fall on the floor head first. Vicky gasps his name as she sees the blood spreading around Finan, motionless. The punched man rubs his nose in pain, crouching to take back his gun that had been dropped on the floor. “Fucking idiot.” He grumbles but before his fingers could reach the weapon, Finan’s hand has grabbed it.

The man makes a noise of surprise, about to step back, but the Irishman rolls on his back, holding the weapon above him. He pulls the trigger and the second after, the man’s face is ornamented by two holes, falling dead onto the ground. Victoria wants to scream, but it’s strangled in her throat as her eyes try to follow Finan’s movements. The man holding her tosses her to the side to attack Finan, making her stumble until she grabs the edge of the counter. She tries to calm her breath while she hears the sounds of the fight, other shooting muffled by silencers. When she eventually dares to look at what is happening, there's only Finan and one last man. The stranger shoots in her friend’s direction while he stands up after stabbing another with his Opinel, but Finan avoids the shot and instead of ending its course in his body, it pierces Victoria’s. 

She cries out in pain, her hands letting go of the counter to press again the wound on her flank, sitting heavily on the floor. The pain is sharp and resounds in her whole body. She pants in panic at all the blood slipping through her fingers, her vision blurred by tears. She barely hears Finan calling her when he kneels in front of her, so his hand cups the side of her face to have her attention. 

“Calm down, it’s goin’ to heal.” He reassures her, his eyes trying to keep holding hers as she tries to calm the jerky rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest. His thumb brushes her cheek gently and she feels the bullet slowly leaving her body by itself until she can feel the cold metal piece in her hand. The pain disappears as well and she starts to breathe more calmly, looking down at her wound and noticing there’s no more blood coming out of it. When she looks up to Finan, he is smiling. “See? As if nothin’ happened.”

Vicky doesn’t answer, her mouth agape as she finds her composure again but when her eyes fall on the three dead men she feels weak again and Finan has to catch her before she falls. She grabs his shoulder, sobbing in his neck while he rubs her back. She can’t look away from the men, their face pale as they were laying in huge puddles of blood. She can’t even feel relieved that she is safe, all she can think of is those lifeless men. 

“We have to leave.” He says softly, but non less urging. 

Victoria pushes aways from him immediately, her hands resting on his shoulders, his sweatshirt pierced multiple times and stained with red. “What? No! No, we’ve got to call the police… To find out why they were here!” She exclaims, gesturing toward the men and her head shaking as she tries to explain her opinion. 

But she’s stopped in her rambling by Finan’s hands clasping at each side of her face, forcing her to look at him another time. She swallows when sees how serious his eyes are this time and she understands that whatever could be her opinion, she’ll have to follow him anyway. “And ya’ll tell them ya did this all by yourself?” Finan raises his eyebrow interrogatively and she only looks down resignedly. “They were well trained men, Victoria, it’s not just burglars.”

“Why were they here then?” She asks even if she doubts him having the answer already. 

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.” He assures her, his palms sliding to her shoulders. “But now, I give ya ten minutes to take your things and we get the fuck out of here, alright?”

Victoria takes a deep breath and nods. Finan stands up, stretching his hand out to pull her up. She walks out of the kitchen, her legs shaking and trying to keep her away from the dead to avoid increasing her sick feeling. Once she’s in her bedroom she’s petrified again, not knowing what to do, images of the fight troubling her mind. She shakes them off by a quick movement of her head and grabs a bag, stuffing clothes in it randomly. She also puts all the cash she has, guessing it could always be useful. As she does it, she doesn’t notice the tears streaming down her face. What she has been expecting to happen only in years is now happening: she’s leaving everything behind.

She can’t even think of the consequences properly, Finan coming in with one of the small guns stuck in his trousers. “I’d gladly accept a clean sweater.” He says, the lightness of the sentence not matching his tone. She points to a drawer and he steps towards it, removing his dirty hoodie and t-shirt in the process.

“Where are we going?” She asks, holding her now closed bag against her as if she’s a child hugging her teddy bear to find reassurance.

He briefly turns around, and she can notice there’s no mark of the bullets he took during the fight on his skin. “I don’t know.” He puts on the new sweater. “The farthest away possible for the moment.” His hand grabs her shoulder and after a light squeeze he pushes her forward. “Now we go.” 

She takes her coat in the living room, looking around one last time, this isn't how she thought things would go. She pinches her lips tightly to not let out a sob and she walks to a shelf to take a photo album, the one her mother gifted her for her eighteenth birthday with pictures of her since she was a baby. She turns around, Finan waiting for her in the entrance with an apologetic expression. She swallows, trying to look stronger than she's actually feeling and joins him after a few determined steps.

“We can go.” She declares. 

Finan's car isn't parked far, and in less than ten minutes they are on the road, taking the direction to where Finan has been sleeping for the past weeks. From time to time she looks at him, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel while she is feeling drained of energy, so much so that she only realises she fell asleep when she hears the slamming of the car's door, startling her.

“Hey! Easy, t'is me.” Finan says raising a hand peacefully as she abruptly moves back instinctively. 

“S… Sorry.” She mutters, looking down. 

And they take the road again, a heavy silence reigning in the car. It's past midnight now and Victoria simply tries to not think too much, focussing on the streetlights. If she trusts the signs they cross, they are driving North in Sheffield's direction. She doubts Finan has any particular intention to go there, all he wants is to go the furthest away possible from London. When she rests her eyes on him, she can't help the thrill that runs along her spine, he has killed them in cold-blood, not even thinking twice. She knows he is a warrior, he has killed countless men and until now it never really bothered her. But seeing it, it's something else.

She looks to her hands, there's still blood on them, her own. She knows she couldn't have died, but it totally disappeared from her mind when she felt the gun against her temple, fear taking control. She has always made herself minor wounds, nothing serious and seeing she was healing faster than anyone felt more like a good trick than something life changing. But now, after taking a bullet, she realises the real burden of immortality: there's no end. And weirdly, when it's that end that scares people, Victoria wishes she had one. Something to give her a reason to enjoy her life. 

“Are ya alright?” Finan asks her when they stop at an old rest stop, Victoria coming back from the toilets with her hands now cleaned of all the blood.

“I don't know.” She sighs desperately, leaning against the car next to him. She frowns when she notices he is lighting a cigarette before bringing it to his mouth. “You smoke?”

He shrugs, breathing out the smoke. “When I'm nervous.” He admits and raises his eyebrows when Vicky gives him a disapproving look. “What? It's not like it's goin' to kill me.” He wryly replies. 

She rolls her eyes, grimacing at the tobacco smell tickling her nostrils. Finan searches something in his pocket, catching her attention. He hands her a folded paper, stained with blood, but when she opens it, most of the information is still readable. She widens her eyes when she recognizes a picture of her, her number, her address, and in fact all the most important information regarding her life. 

“T'was in one of them's pocket.” Finan explains after a long exhale. 

She raises frightened eyes at him, her fingers flexing on the paper. “They were searching for me?” She asks, though the answer was obvious. Finan nods and points a finger to a particular sentence : ‘Immortal.’

“They knew.” A long silence carries away his words, Vicky not realising she’s holding her breath until he moves to crush his cigarette in the ashtray further.

“How’s that possible? I… I spoke of it to no one!” She exclaims in panic, fearing Finan could blame it on her but he simply rubs his eyes with his thumb and index. 

“I’ve got no ideas, Victoria.” He sighs and opens the car to sit on the driver’s seat sideways, his face buried between his palms.

Vicky’s stomach squeezes as she reads the paper again, some information is related to her family and friends and she suddenly fears for them. If there’s others, she has left her phone in her apartment and Finan threw his in a trash in her street, the only things that could permit them to find her again. So what if they try to seek information through them? And she doubts whoever they are that they’ll be kind to them.

“They are all in danger… My family… Rebecca.” She whispers, new tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “We have to warn them! Or take them with us…”

“No we won’t.” Finan replies, stretching his legs and before she can protest, he continues. “They’ll soon enough report your disappearance, they’ll be interrogated by the police and under their protection.” He says, confident. “They’ll be safe.” She knows Finan is probably right, nothing will happen to them, so she nods silently. “Well, we should sleep a little. We’ll take back the road in the mornin’.” He says after yawning. 

Sleeping in the car is far from being comfortable, but they manage to find a way to, Vicky laying on the backseats and Finan on the front passenger leaned seat. However, she can’t find sleep, tossing over and over again, trying to stay covered by the coat Finan has lent her as a blanket. When she closes her eyes, she sees the fight again, her heart racing and her guts twisting. So she just stops to try and stares at an invisible point in the car. She wonders how everyone will react when they’ll learn she disappeared, by noon she guesses a neighbor will have found the opened door of her flat and the three men. She supposes Rebecca will immediately think it is Finan who’s responsible, though she doesn’t even know his name. She’ll feel responsible for being the one organizing their meeting. And her parents, they’ll be devastated. 

She feels terribly bad to be the reason for their pain, to not be able to just send them a message, just to tell them that she’s fine and will be. She’s been such a hard child and teen, too stubborn to listen to her parents. She wasn’t Charles, nor Rebecca, a calm and studious person and still isn’t. She has never felt like she could be a source of pride for them, only a source of worry. And once more, she’s going to be the reason for their troubles. 

She can’t prevent the way her throat tightens and the tear that trickles down her cheek in silence. But one is joined by another and she now can’t prevent the hiccup of pain that escapes her as she sobs. She’s tired of crying, her eyes swollen and aching but she has nothing else to do. Until a hand reaches out to hers through the dark, taking it with such kindness that it stops her cries for a brief instant. She wipes her eyes with her other hand and then meets Finan’s gaze. He is still laying on the passenger’s seat, quite awkwardly so his left hand could hold hers. She can’t read his expression, his face lightened by the road’s light further, he isn’t sorry, nor sad. He stares at her so softly, she finds it reassuring and doesn’t even think of her anger towards him anymore. 

“I know the feelin’, when you lose everythin’.” His thumb rubs her fingers tenderly, making her melt, her eyelids suddenly heavier. “But it will be alright, Vicky.” He promises her, holding her gaze once more and she can see how confident he is.

It’s also the first time that he says her nickname, she doesn’t object, and even if she did, she’s too sleepy to protest. So she smiles tiredly, tightening her grip around his hand, and whispers: “Thank you.”

A/N : Finan with a gun: H O T

Tag :​ @for-bebbanburg ​ ​ @naps4bats ​ ​ @osferth ​ @maggiescarborough ​ @finansarms ​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby

[ohlookitsrex]

Summary: "If we can go one week with no lies, then we will go on a field trip, only the winners, of course."

That was Charles' idea...to be completely honest, Charles only made this bet so Erik would flirt with him...Charles' plan was working out to be spectacularly terrible.

There had been a bet going around the school, among the staff, mainly. Charles had been preaching the importance of honesty and transparency, but he quickly realized that his colleagues needed more incentive.

"If we can go one week with no lies, then we will go on a field trip, only the winners, of course."

That was Charles' idea and so far, it was quite fun. To be completely honest, Charles only made this bet so Erik would flirt with him -unintentionally, mind you. Two days in, and Charles' plan was working out to be spectacularly terrible. Erik was seemingly avoiding Charles, which was a valid strategy, but still.

Charles had walked into the lounge room, hoping to catch Erik and a cup of coffee. Erik was indeed there, likely on his way out of the lounge. Erik wore that borderline sinful black turtleneck along with a tight pair of pants.

"Erik, fancy a game of chess during our 30 minute break?"

Erik had finally taken note of Charles' presence and became extremely nervous for some godforesaken reason. Erik knew the reason: he likes Charles, it's as simple as that. He loves those piercing blue eyes, the kind smile, the soft, untouched hands of Charles Xavier. He won't deny it... okay, well, maybe he will. Everyone seems to know this fact besides Charles. 

" I would love to Charles but I have tests to grade," he said with an obviously fake smile. Technically, that wasn't a lie; Erik would love to play a game with Charles and he did have tests to grade. Charles sighed, "oh, I see...well, perhaps next time then." Erik gave a genuine smile this time.

"Perhaps." On the way out, he brushed past Charles, both of their faces reddening madly. Oh, if only they could see each other from an outsider's perspective. They are so obviously in love even a blind man could see it and a deaf girl could hear it.

***

Charles was walking down one of the school's many corridors, in search of one Erik Lehnsherr.

"Charles," Raven spoke from behind him. "Yes?" He queried, turning to see her. "Have you seen Hank?" So Raven had the same idea as Charles it seems.

"That depends, have you seen Erik?"

"Ooh, are you trying to seduce him or something?"

"I won't tell if you won't."

"Deal, Erik is by the fountain reading."

"Lovely, Hank is in the tennis court."

Charles immediately turned around and began pacing to his destination. 'Of course Erik was reading' Charles thought to himself. He strolled over to one of the many exits of the building.  Charles wandered lost in thought . Maybe I'll have a romantic moment with Erik by the fountain, like in all of those Rom-coms that Raven keeps telling me about. Maybe we could be like Bella and Edward—less cliche of course... Unbeknownst to Charles, he was about to walk face first into his Edward. This realization came with the audible thud of Charles' face colliding with the muscly chest of Erik, Erik's book now on the floor as a result.   Charles looked up to find a very flustered Erik—not that Erik looked flustered, but the bar of flustered for the (usually stoic) Erik is very low. 

"Erik, hello again.  Sorry, let me-"

Charles bent down at the exact same time Erik did.  Their foreheads met with a (less audible, but still) very painful thud, sending both men backwards on their asses. 

"Fuck" Erik muttered.  Erik looked up to see Charles: his legs bent upward and nearly sprawled out with his hand against his forehead.  For some reason (again, Erik knew the reason), Charles seemed to be the most captivating creature on earth, far more interesting than Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere.  Charles had looked up about four seconds before Erik realized he was staring.  Erik's eyes quickly darted away from Charles' strikingly blue ones.  "Well, I had been meaning to run into you, but this was not what I had in mind." Erik chuckled at this.

"I would hope." Charles smiled at Erik.  On the outside, Erik simply sat in nearly the exact position of Charles, mouth slightly open but still with a calm demeanor.  On the inside it sounded more like this:

Holy shit, Charles' eyes are piercing through my fucking soul.  If we were back in about 400 b.c I would think this man is Jesus and confess my sins to him...

"Well, Jesus was actually brown—likely with dark eyes. He was born in Nazareth, which was in the Middle East.  The only reason we think Jesus is white is because DaVinci was commissioned to paint a picture of Jesus.  He, of course, modeled it after his boyfriend at the time." Erik was hit with an abrupt sense of confusion.

"Hey-"

"I can't help if your thoughts are loud, Erik!"

"Right..."

Erik and Charles sat in the same spot, simply staring into each other's eyes for an unreasonable amount of time.

"Would you like to go back to the fountain?" Charles propositioned with a tint of uneasiness.

"S-Sure, Charles" Erik babbled.  Charles' own name falling off of Erik's lips hit him like a freight train.

Fuck, I wish I could hear that more... "Need a hand, Schatz?" Charles looked up to see Erik standing above him, hand outstretched.  Charles grasped Erik's hand and found that Erik pulled him up much harder than Charles pulled Erik down. This resulted in both men's faces being much closer than platonic allowed.  Erik quickly turned to the side, a very subtle blush dusting his cheeks.  For a split second, Charles could feel Erik's breath on his lips, Erik's slight stubble scraping against his chin, Erik's cologne filling his nostrils. Charles was going to ride this high for months.

"C'mon, let's go" Erik spoke with a hint of nervousness. Charles, still spaced out and on cloud nine, mindlessly followed Erik to the fountain.

***

"And then he sees door..." Charles was sitting on the fountain next to Erik, listening to him go on a passionate tangent about the book he had been reading.  Listening is a bit generous though, rather, Erik's words were hitting Charles like water across a creek floor.  "And then-"

"Erik?" Charles asked, creating an abrupt end to Erik's sentence.

"Charles?" he mimicked.

"What do you think about my eyes?"

"What?" Erik panicked internally.

"You keep thinking about them."

"I-" Erik took a moment to compose himself, trying to calculate the weight of his words.

"Your eyes are...beautiful" Vorefreud his mind was screaming.

"What does that mean Erik? 'vorefreud'?" Erik's cheeks reddened.

"Uhm...it uh, it means..." Erik closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, his eyes now meeting Charles'.

"Vorefreud pretty much means the pleasure of waiting for something pleasurable."

"And why do my eyes bring that word to mind?" Charles said with a grin that he simply couldn't hide. Erik was silent, his eyes never leaving Charles'.  Erik slowly lurched closer to Charles, his left hand coming up to Charles clean-shaven jawline and his right coming to rest atop Charles' hand on the smooth stone of the fountain.

And just like that, Erik was kissing Charles and Charles was kissing Erik. Both men felt this heavy weight suddenly lift off of their shoulders.  The pining, the sexual tension, the unspoken feelings, all of that was paying off.  Erik noted that Charles' lips were unreasonably soft, and Charles found that Erik's lips were slightly chapped.  The kiss was not ravenous, rather a soft, passionate, admission of love.  Charles brought his hands up to Erik's sides, his thumbs slowly moving up and down against Erik's sweater.  Erik pulled away, but not before hitting Charles' bottom lip and dragging his teeth across it.  At this, Charles let out a sharp gasp, his eyes pointedly meeting Charles. 

Erik looked passionately exasperated, eyes boring into Charles.  Charles brought one of his hands up to touch his lips, rubbing across the part Erik had just bit.  Erik smiled at this, the widest smile Charles has ever seen from him. A slight chuckle escaped his lips. The urge to, once again, kiss Erik washed over Charles, who decided to listen to it.  He lunged forward, one hand clasped itself against the underside of Erik's chin and the other flew to the back of Erik's head, roughly gripping his hair. 

Erik cursed against Charles' mouth and kissed back, this time ravenously. Erik's hands found Charles' back, his arms looping underneath Charles'.  Erik nibbled on Charles' bottom lip, this time, making him groan.  Erik took this as an opening and gracefully slid his tongue into Charles' mouth.  This kiss was no longer an admission of their feelings, but now a declaration, an announcement.  Charles now pulled away, his forehead resting against Eriks'. 

"Erik," Charles softly spoke.

"Charles," Erik said with an audible smile.

"I'm glad you think so loudly."

"Me too."

WC: 1482

A/N: Thanks for reading, babes!

[saktetsu]

'LUST' Oikawa Tōru x Reader

Nekomimi, Metamorphoses, Adopted Sibling, !ncest, Mentions of Rape, Yandere Themes, Drugged

Today was the day that Oikawa Tōru comes back to Japan. He won't be staying for long, but at least [F/N] will be able to see her Older Brother once again.

"You look excited to see Tōru again" Her Mother exclaimed, chuckling softly.

"Well of course I am! I get to see Tōru nii again.." [F/N] had a smiled plastered on her face, as she waited for the Front Door to open.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Oikawa finally emerged from the door. He looked more mature now than he was back then. Without Hesitation, [F/N] jumped off the couch and ran straight into his open arms. It caused the setter to laugh from her sudden outburst of affection.

"Woah there [F/N]-Chan, did you miss me that much?" He teased, pinching her cheek slightly. Though she didn't care at all, all she wanted was to hug her dearest Brother that she missed so much.

"Alright, alright. [F/N] enough, let your Brother rest for a bit. I bet he's tired from the Flight" Their Mother chimed in with her hands on either side of her hips.

She pouted and eventually let go of Tōru with a soft 'hmph..' "Don't worry [F/N]~Chan! We'll be able to catch up after I settle in, mkay?" Tōru suggested with a head tilt, causing the younger girl to brighten up.

It may have been rude of him to stare at how her Booty Shorts would raise a little too high. Or how her shirt would squeeze tightly around her upper body. It's like she's tempting him to ruin her, to claim her. Even the thought of finally making his precious Little Sister his, had his tail straighten up from behind him.

Had she always looked this tempting? Had her ass always looked so plump and juicy? Whatever the case, he still couldn't fight back the urge to somewhat claim her as his own.

A few days passed by with Oikawa continuously bothering and hanging out with [F/N]. His personality didn't change much, but she could tell that he was a lot more serious.

Currently, she was in Class. Sitting along side her Best Friend Rinsuke and Sosuke. It was normal for them to Hang out before School ended. "Yo [F/N], I heard your Brother Finally came back from Argentina. How's that going for you?"

"Honestly, it's been great! I was able to catch up with him during the span of like- 4 days"

"4 days and you've already talked about everything? Sheesh, I'm not even surprised" Sosuke butted in, slurping his Milk quietly.

"Ya can't blame her for that though. They're pretty inseparable at this point." His twin added with a sly smirk spreading across his face. "Yer sure ya ain't got anything yer hiding from us Cupcake?"

"What.. Do you mean?" [F/N] asked with a curious tone.

"Ya know how he's one of those Nekomimi people?" She nodded. "Well for starters, ain't those kitties sniff shit that they own or somethin' like that?"

"And I'm also pretty sure that their kind not only possess the appearance of a cat, but their nature, and DNA too. Meaning they could sometimes act out by instincts alone." Sosuke finished Rinsuke's sentence, causing the other Twin to grumble by the sudden interruption.

"I was gonna say that Rin! Ya don't hafta butt in atta nowhere" Rinsuke continued to pout as his arms crosses over his chest.

"Whatever. But seriously [F/N], you've gotta watch out when you're with that Brother of yours."

"Pshh, what's he gonna do? Think I'm his mate? Sosuke, Rinsuke. He's my Brother, I doubt he'd even try to do anything but sniff me"

"Yer Adopted Brother" Rinsuke corrected, causing Sosuke to nod.

"Oh come on! Tōru nii isn't like that, I promise you" They both looked at each other and sighed.

"If you say so."

And just like that, School came to an end with a single bell. The Three walked out of their class together, waving goodbye to each and everyone of their Friends.

A few loud screams were heard from afar as they got closer to the exit if the School. They exchanged curious looks with each other before following the source of the noise.

"Oh my God! Oikawa-kun's here?! In Japan?!" One of the girls screamed out of excitement as she ran passed Rinsuke, Sosuke, and [F/N].

It startled [F/N], Oikawa had never picked her up from School before. (Due to his crazy schedule that was always packed with Volleyball.)

"[F/N]-Chan! There you are, I was worried that you might have gotten lo-" And there it was, the brief pause of his sentence as soon as he realized that she wasn't standing alone. Slowly, he pushed through his fans with a somewhat apologetic smile. His eyes narrowed, ear twitching from annoyance.

"Who are you?" The Question may seem innocent, but the tone of his voice was filled with venom.

"I- Uh- Rinsuke, sir.. And this is my Bro" Rin patted Sosuke's shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Well, nice to meet you both but I must get going! And.." Oikawa walked a little closer to his relative, pulling her into his arms. "I'll be taking [F/N]-Chan with me"

Without another word, Tōru turned to walk away with [F/N] in his arms. She peeked behind her Brother, giving Rinsuke and Sosuke a small wave before they completely disappeared from view.

The walk home was quiet, yet Oikawa's arms were still wrapped around her smaller Figure. "Is something wrong Tōru nii..?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Don't worry [F/N]-Chan." She tried her best to struck up the conversation a bit more, but he gave either one word answers or stayed quiet. It felt unsettling, but [F/N] shrugged it off as soon as they reached the Front Door of their House.

"You better take a Shower right now" Was the first thing he mentioned as soon as they walked in, causing her to get startled a bit.

"Oh- uh- alright" [F/N] rushed upstairs and into her room, taking her clothes off slowly before popping herself into the shower.

Oikawa stayed downstairs, watching his previous games against other Teams. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the TV, he just couldn't. With the sound if the shower turned on, and [F/N] humming softly with the music in the background that she usually plays while cleaning herself up; it was hard to focus on anything but that.

Thoughts of her being exposed and freely displayed infront of him rushed through his brain. He knew it was wrong to think of her this way, but who was he kidding? He's fucking addicted.

The sound of the shower turning off caught his attention, meaning she was already done. Did time really fly by fast from all those thoughts? Either way, he couldn't care less.

She emerged from the stairs, descending slowly with her usual Home Outfit. The booty shorts he so feared that might break his last strand of self control, and her tank top that just fits perfectly against her body. It caused his ears to twitch ever so excitedly as soon as she plopped herself beside him without a word.

"Happy?" [F/N] let out as she took off the tow that wrapped around her hair.

Oikawa leaned forward, resting his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent, and eventually his tail descended from its straightened up posture. "Mm" He hummed.

"Why'd you want me to take a bath anyways? It's not like I was dirty or anything"

"You smelled like them." Tōru simply answered, his nose twitching from her sweet lavender scent.

"Hmmmm" [F/N] shifted slightly, putting a bit space between her and Oikawa. "Where's Mom by the way?"

"Oh right, I forgot to mention that she's over at a Friends house right now. Something about a Girls night out"

"Oh- pfft, typical, I can't blame her though. I would have also missed going out with my friends if I was always busy" He didn't reply, nor did he give some sort of answer. His eyes were still glued onto her face, taking in her beauty that he missed back in Argentina.

After a while of silence, he finally spoke up. "You should head to bed, you have Volleyball Practice tomorrow right?"

"Oh, yeah I do"

"Which Position did you obtain?"

"I got setter!"

Oh? So she did end up becoming the Setter of her Volleyball Team after all. "Why did you wanna become the Setter so badly? I mean, you're a great receiver. You should have chosen to become a Libero instead"

"I know, but.. I really wanna be just like you Tōru nii" [F/N] fidgeted in her spot, her eyes sparkled in the sight of her Older Brother. She looked so.. Vulnerable..

He took a sharp inhale, before breathing out. He wasn't gonna lie, it caught him off guard. But the goofy smile spreading across his face showed how ecstatic he was knowing that his Little Sister wanted to be just like him. "Really? [F/N]-Chan! I feel so honored"

She laughed softly, before turning her gaze back to the Game played out for them. "Well, you're the Best Setter I know so.. Is it alright if you'd teach me some things Tōru nii?"

Oikawa nodded, his ego going through the roof as he tilted his chin up. "Now how about this, if you wake up early tomorrow then we could practice together before you head to Schoo-"

"REALLY?! ALRIGHT- I'll go to Sleep now!" [F/N] shot up from her position of the couch, raising her arms in the air like a child. He was startled at first, but eventually smiled softly.

"Here, drink your Milk first. that way you'll go to sleep faster" Tōru picked up the glass of milk on the coffee table, handing it to her with the genuine smile that never fails to make her grin. She uttered a small 'Thank you' before drinking the Milk.

Meanwhile, Oikawa was sitting there, watching intently. Would it be wrong to tell her someday in the near future that he drugged her Milk before giving it to her?

"Phoowee, wow.. -I do feel sleepy.." [F/N] settled the cup back down, facing her older brother with lazy eyes. "Can you carry me up the stairs please? Pretty pleaseee? I'm too lazy"

Tōru pretend to be annoyed, even letting out a small grunt before picking her off the ground. "Alright"

They both ascended up the stairs, with [F/N] comfortably in his arms. It was as if she was molded to fit perfectly wrapped around his fingers.

By the time that they arrived at the front of her bedroom, she was out cold. Her breathing was more even, yet her hands still gripped onto his shirt. "Silly [F/N]-Chan, you really should pay more attention to things you drink. I wonder if your trust for me would shatter if you found out.." He seemed to be lost in thought as he lowered her sleeping figure

Oikawa was shifting, not being able to contain his excitement as he eagerly took off his own sweater. 'Fuck, she looked so defenceless'

He lowered himself a bit. Settling his right hand on top of her stomach, where it slowly dipped further down until he was able to cup her cunt. "Fuck.. Already soaked Princess?" He cooed softly, before pulling her Shorts off. Oikawa took a moment to admire her current state, his fingers gently sliding her cottoned panties off. 'Wouldn't want her to wake up early now'

Tōru licked two of his fingers a bit, before slowly inserting them inside of her pussy. It caused [F/N] to squirm a bit in her spot, her lips quivering slightly. "H-Hrgm..~"

"Shhh... It's alright Baby Girl, Tōru nii's gonna take good care of you okay.." In all honesty, he was still shocked from the fact that his sweet little sister was still a Virgin. It excited him even more to the point where he pistoned his fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. The tightness of his pants slightly bothered him, causing the setter to quickly push the waist band lower.

It continued on for a bit, until he became restless. The pad of his thumb harshly pressed against her clit, making her jolt. "A-AHHH.. -" The lewd moan startled him, but he kept going at his pace. [F/N] continued to tremble under his touch, growing restless as she began to twist and turn in her spot.

He noticed how tighter it got, and more difficult it was to move his fingers. "Fuck.. You're squeezing my fingers like a Vice [F/N]-Chan.. Are you about to cum Princess? Come on, cum for Onii-Chan.." Oikawa continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. And eventually, just like he said; she came with a loud moan.

Without hesitation, he pulled her sleeping body up slightly, his back resting against the headboard. Oikawa settled her on his lap, where her cunt rested right on top of his Cock. He shivered a bit, feeling her cum dripping onto his hardened member. He let her lean into him as she continued to sleep peacefully.

As much as he wanted to keep her innocence, the desire to ruin her and completely claim her body as his own grew.

Tōru slowly lifted her up, wrapping his tail around her waist before spreading her cunt with his fingers. "I'm about to take something so valuable from you.." And with that, he dropped her onto his cock, causing it to quickly sink balls deep. [F/N] let out a loud shriek as her eyes flew open. Oikawa stilled his movements and let out a shaky sigh. It felt too good.. Way too good.

"Fuck.. [F/N] you're.. - s-so tight damn" He began to lift her hips up and down repeatedly, setting a steady pace. "I expected you to be tight but.. Wow- fuck it feels good Baby Girl"

It didn't take long for her to register what was going on, her Big Brother's dick sinking inside her pussy, his tail wrapping around her waist, it made her feel light headed to say the least. "T-Tō.. Tōru nii..? W-What are.. What are you doing? Please stop, it hurts.." She spoke in a soft tone, pushing her hands against his broad shoulders in an attempt to move away. But he was much more stronger than she was, and faster too.

"Ah, ah, ah.. Don't fight now [F/N]-Chan! If you struggle, it'll make me even more excited.." He said, licking his lips seductively. A shiver ran down her spine as her hips continued to move with his help.

"This is wrong- please stop- I-I won't tell anyone this ever h-happened.. I swear.. Just please sto- ooo-o.. AHHHHHHHH..!" Oikawa had enough of her babbling about how she didn't want any of this. So instead of taking it easy on her like how he planned. He began to buck his hips, causing a loud whimper to fall from her lips as she tried to continue her sentence. "P-Please Tōru nii stop..!"

"Fuck, I just told you that if you struggle it'll excite me more.. Are you doing this on purpose? You fucking slut.." His pace got even faster, and his thrust was more rough. "You know, seeing you with those Bastards really hurt me [F/N]-Chan! I thought I was the only Male in your Life"

The tone of his voice sounded as if he was genuinely hurt, she would have felt bad, she would have if it wasn't for the fact that he was literally pistoning his dick in and out of her pussy. "T-Tōru..~!" [F/N] moaned out his name. Somehow, it flicked a switch deep inside Oikawa.

Causing him to act by instincts. Instead of his usual thought out actions, he pushed her off, pinning both of her wrists above her head with one hand. His ears began to twitch, and the tail that he affectionately wrapped around her waist was now tightening its grip. "Tō-Tōru..!"

There it was again, it sounded like music to his ears. He needed to hear more of it right away. So without further interruptions, he began to spread her legs. [F/N] let out a small shriek as soon as she felt the tip of his member push against her folds.

Her toes curled, and her back arched. Tōru didn't care whether or not it hurt for her, his pace was rough and frantic. As if his Animalistic tropes were overpowering his usual humane self. He wanted to breed her so badly, spill his sperm deep inside her womb until she was a quivering mess. "T-TŌRU, TŌRU!" His name continuously spilled out of her mouth.

And no doubt, it made him even more rough with her. "Fuck! You're such a fucking slut for hanging out with those Bastards. should've known you'd do this from the start" There it was, his tip hitting that spot that made her see stars. She flinched, her moans getting even more uncontrollably louder. "Yeah? You like that? You like it here?" Tōru moved his free hand below her ass, lifting her up slightly where he could easily thrust up to her G-Spot.

"H-Hrm..! T-Tōru.. 'M Cumming, I'm Cumming Tōru!"

"Then cum, Princess" And just like that, [F/N] came around his cock. Her eyes closing slightly as she rode out her orgasm. But Oikawa didn't stop there, he was chasing his own high after all. With a few more seconds of him thrusting harshly into her abused cunt, he finally came undone. Spilling his cum deep in her womb with a shaky sigh. "F.. Fuck.. Yeah.."

His cock softened, but he didn't pull away nor did he move an inch. Oikawa rested on top of her, his breathing becoming even. "Onii Chan loves you.. You do know that right..?" [F/N] nodded, her lips quivering from the over stimulation being present.

"Use your words pretty girl, I wanna hear you say it" He caressed her hair, stroking some of his finger through.

"Yes, I know.."

"What do you know?"

"I.. T-That... Tōru nii loves me.."

"Good Girl. You do know that no one else loves you right? I love you more than anyone in the whole wide world" She nodded slowly, fidgeting slightly.

"You love me, right?"

"I love you" Despite being mortified earlier, she eventually snuggled closer to her Older Brother. Giving into his twisted fantasies. He felt satisfied with himself, pulling her even closer. She couldn't deny him, she couldn't fight. After all, big brothers know best.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Unbelievable || Dustin H. x Fem!Reader

Requested: @im-eating-rn Hi!hello!May I request? A little Dustin x reader where nobody of Dustin's friends believe that he got a girlfriend who goes to a different school but he actually does? they always meet in the arcade? And then maybe Dustin finally set up a meet up with his friends and his little gf at a party? And everybody is start asking since when and how? And Dustin's mother (bless her sweet soul I love her) is just like "oh yeah they are together since idk... hi y/n sweetheart!" I just love them.

A//N: this prompt is absolutely freaking adorable and I love it but I apologize in advance if any of the interactions between reader and Dustin seem forced. I'm so used to writing the reader as Dustin's sibling so this was tricky to write😂

"Come on, Dustin! I bet they're just teasing you. They're your friends, I'm sure they believe you," You rubbed your boyfriend's back soothingly, trying to comfort him.

"You'd think so," he sighed, putting his head in his hands. "But I know those assholes and I can tell when they're teasing and this is not it."

You continued tracing circles in his back, falling silent but still offering your support.

He took his head out of his hands and smiled, looking at you.

"Then again, I can't say I blame them."

"What do you mean, hun?" You asked, brow furrowed.

"You are pretty unbelievable"

You blushed furiously and you felt your chest grow warm.

"Oh, Dustin." You smiled brightly and leaned in giving him a tender kiss.

The two of you pulled away, and you intertwined your fingers with his and rested your head on his shoulder.

"So why don't we set something up?" You said simply. "A little get together at your house. You can invite your friends over. And I can swing by and meet them. Besides some homework I gotta get done, I'm free Friday. What do you say?"

He looked at you adoringly, as usual, and smiled.

"That sounds perfect. Have I ever told you how awesome you are?"

Your face scrunched up in a playful manner, you peered up at him. "Not today, you haven't."

Your head moved with his shoulders as he chuckled. "You are unbelievably awesome."

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you smiled as your eyes focused on a random spot on the wall.

"I can't wait for you to meet them" he said contently. "And for you to wipe those smug smiles off their faces."

You giggled picturing the sight. You couldn't wait either.

+++

"No offence Dustin, but do you want to head to the arcade or something?" Will asked timidly. "There's not exactly a lot to do here,"

Dustin, whose eyes kept flickering to the door, something his friends picked up on, brushed off the comment.

"Uh yeah, maybe later though" his voice sounded distant, he was distracted.

"Dude, what is up with you?" Lucas asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Dustin mumbled.

He shook his head briefly, taking his eyes off the front door and stood up. "I'm gonna get something to drink, does anyone want anything? I've got cola,"

"I'm good," Mike shrugged.

"Same here," Lucas said.

"I'll have a cola," Will said.

Dustin nodded and retreated to the kitchen, leaving the three boys who looked at one another.

"Something's not right, man." Lucas whispered.

"Yeah something's definitely up," Will said.

The boys fell silent when they heard footsteps approaching and sure enough Dustin emerged holding two cans of cola. He handed the can to Will who mumbled a thanks.

Dustin made his way to the couch and just before he could sit, the doorbell rang. He jumped up quickly and scrambled to the door, his friends sharing weary looks.

"I think you guys will find my guest very interesting." He said smugly, over his shoulder.

He grasped the doorknob and swung the door open, Dustin spoke confidently. "Hello, my lo-"

In front of him stood a very confused mailman holding a package.

Lucas and Mike stifled their laughter and Will was having difficulties keeping the amused grin off his face. He hid behind his drink and took a sip.

"Um, package for Mrs. Henderson?"

"Great, thanks, okay bye." Dustin took the package swiftly and reached for the door to close it but the man spoke up.

"Sir, you have to sign for it."

Letting out a weak chuckle, Dustin quickly grabbed the clipboard and scribbled his signature with the attached pen on a chain, and shoved the clipboard back into the man's hands and hurriedly shut the door.

Sighing, he leaned against the door, thankful that the exchange was over with. But when he saw the peculiar look on his friends faces he knew what was coming.

"Just save it alright?" He grumbled.

He trudged back to the couch and landed on the cushions and let himself sink into the pillows.

"You were saying?" Lucas quipped, quirking an eyebrow and smirking.

"Shut it, Sinclair."

Lucas chuckled and Mike got up and took a seat next Dustin on the couch.

"You wanna tell us what all that was all about?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before he could answer, a brief series of rhythmic and gentle knocks came from the front door.

Dustin, who recognized your pattern of knocks - something he picked up on somewhere along the way - and he knew this was Y/n.

Plastering on a smug smile, he looked to Mike.

"Why don't you find out yourself?"

Mike frowned, and looked over his shoulder to the door, briefly making eye contact with Will and Lucas before looking back to Dustin.

"Please, be my guest." He urged.

Dustin gestured to the front door and Mike stood, making his way over to answer it.

Mike had no idea what to expect, but when he opened the door he was still surprised to see a girl their age, standing on the front porch. You looked as if you were just as confused to see Mike as he was to see you.

You recognized him almost immediately from the pictures you had seen. It was just odd having someone else answer the door that wasn't Dustin.

He always answered the door when he was expecting you. Even the times where you could hear Mrs. Henderson call out to you that she would get it, it would usually be followed by a muffled thud and a slew of curses as Dustin scrambled to get there first.

You smiled politely. You recognized Mike from the pictures around Dustin's house and you figured they had been giving him crap or something and that's why Mike answered the door.

"Hi, you're Mike right? I'm Y/n," you stuck our your hand out for him to shake and in his confused daze he shook your hand as if he was on autopilot. "Where's Dustin?"

"Over here, Y/n/n." Dustin called wistfully.

You smiled, and rather than wait for Mike to let you in - it didn't look like the thought ever occurred to him - you stepped passed him, knowing you were invited anyway.

You stepped into the front room and you noted the delayed sound of Mike closing the door behind you and he wandered past you and back to his seat.

You looked at each of the boys, Will and Lucas gaping at you as well.

"Hi there," You met Will's eye and smiled. "You must be Will and that would make you Lucas?"

They each nodded respectively and Dustin got up, joining your side. He gently put his arm around you, a gesture you welcomed.

"Gentlemen, this is Y/n," He wore a beaming smile, looking at you fondly before looking back to his friends. "My girlfriend"

"Wait, seriously?" Lucas asked, dumbfounded.

Your smile grew brighter, albeit a bit smug, and you nodded proudly. "It's true. We've been together for some time now."

"So," Will spoke up. "You're the Y/n?"

"The one and only. And it's my understanding that you guys have been a bit "skeptical", you made air quotes as you said this, but out of politeness you kept them hidden at your sides. "about me and Dustin?"

Lucas opened his mouth to speak but the words seemed to have died on his tongue.

The guys did believe you existed of course. You and Dustin had met at the arcade, fighting over who got to play dig dug first. You had both gotten to the machine at the same time, but fought over it.

Dustin didn't argue that much, and gave the machine up to you. Not that he thought you couldn't win on your own or anything, but because he was more than fine waiting his turn for it if it meant having a reason to spend more time with you. A fact he had kept to himself. You two ended up taking turns on the game, each of you trying to beat each other's scores. Dustin had caught his friends up the next day at school, inadvertently gushing about the awesome girl he met at the arcade the previous day.

This adoration for you continued for weeks, the guys quickly lost interest and got fairly annoyed. He would find a way to bring you up in any conversation. "Y/n said the funniest thing today," and "I wish Y/n was here, she'd know just what to do," or "It's funny you say that, Y/n was just telling me about..." Eventually, one of them snapped one day, making some comment about he needed to get over her and Dustin retorted that as a matter of fact, he asked you out for a lunch date and you said yes.

A mixture of bad timing and irritation from the guys' side is what caused their disbelief. That and how highly he spoke of you. Surely no one was that perfect.

Any time he mentioned you from then on, something you did or said, anything involving you his girlfriend, they just assumed he didn't want to be caught in an embarrassing lie and kept up the act. For the sake of his dignity.

Yet they still couldn't quite shake the doubt that had taken root in their minds. Small parts in the back of their brian fed them alternate scenarios, any suggestion that could possible make sense all because if they admitted they were wrong they knew they had been bad friends.

Maybe you were just doing Dustin a favor by coming here and saying these things. Hell, maybe you found out he liked you and you didn't recproacte the feeling and as an act of pity, you agreed to lying for him just to shut them up. It was a definite stretch, but it was possible right?

No matter the doubt, however crazy the scenario, it didn't do anything to help the guilt that settled heavily on their concious. But in the whirlwind of it all, their attention was pulled to the front door for the third time that day to see Mrs. Henderson walk through the door, coat on, groceries and her keys in her hands.

She smiled brightly and greeted the boys, who politely greeted her back and when she saw you her lips stretched into a big grin.

"Y/n, honey! What a lovely surprise!" She set down the grocery bag and walked over to you.

She enveloped you with her signature mama bear hug and you gladly accepted the familiar embrace.

Pulling back, she inspected you, plucking a few cat hairs from your shoulder that had attached themselves to you during her hug. You were not fazed by this, you had gotten quite familiar with her motherly behavior. She went nuts for you when you met her and everytime you were around she doted on you more than she did Dustin if at at possible.

"Oh, how have you been sweetheart?"

You smiled warmly. "I'm great thank you. How are you?"

She gushed. "Oh I'm just fine, thank you sweetie. So tell me, what are you kids up to? Dusty, have you offered your friends a drink yet?"

"Yes mom," he said, a hint of impatience in his tone. "I was just introducing them to Y/n,"

Dustin made firm eye contact with each of his friends, reveling in the fact that they were finally listening.

"In fact, we were just clearing up some questions they had." He smiled smugly at his friends and they struggled maintaining eye contact.

"Oh, I remember when Dusty here was so excited when he first told me you guys had finally planned a first date. Gosh, he could not stop talking about you honey," Her loving gaze shifted from you to the other boys. "He was so nervous too."

"Mom!"

"It was so adorable," She giggled. "Hard to believe it's been almost a whole year now, isn't it?"

When they heard this from Mrs. Henderson, that was the final confirmation. Lucas, Mike and Will all felt immediately crushed by guilt and sent their friend many apologetic looks and apologized profusely the rest of the night.

In fact, it took them a very long time before they finally stopped apologizing. Even a scattered one here and there months after it happened.

Of course, that may or may not have had something to do with the fact that you never let them forget it.

[smileyoongle]

Masterpiece (A Park Jimin Yandere AU)

Summary: You thought it was just a painting until you bought it. You thought the man in the frame was beautiful until you saw him. You thought it was a masterpiece until you were ruined.

Pairing: Yandere! Jimin×Reader, Taehyung×Reader

Warnings: Contains mentions of smut, deaths, blood, obsessive behaviour and mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.

The first time you had begun painting was when you had attended an exhibition with Taehyung in high school. You both had decided to ditch classes for the day, happily skipping around until Taehyung stated that there was this new artist who was holding an exhibition in town. Taehyung had always been artistic, you could tell he was just born with it. Whereas you, you were not good at anything at all. Except for whining and complaining about how stupid life was.

Since there was nothing better to do, you dragged yourself behind Taehyung, exploring art that you didn't understand but somehow found yourself immersed in. That was the day when your heart had made a firm decision. Initially, your paintings used to be about anything and everything but ever since your kidnapping incident, they had become darker. Being detached from reality due to how pathetically your father had blamed you for your misfortune, you latched onto your paintings like your life depended on them. It was a relationship much deeper than any you'd ever have. Your art was your escape, no one could ever change that.

Or at least that's what you hoped.

"I'm really drunk, aren't I?" You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand on your forehead. It was more of a statement, really. A statement to remind you that you were just hallucinating and to tell Jimin that you didn't think he was real at all. Because, why would he be? 

He was just a man from a painting.

Jimin sighed, securing the bandage around your foot as firmly as he could. It was a miracle that you were even able to make skin contact with him. Wasn't he supposed to be hollow or something? Like, Casper, maybe? You frowned, watching warily as jimin stood up, leaning down to be at the same eye level as you.

"Believe what you want. Just know that I'll be here for a long long time." 

His words held a deeper meaning than you contemplated, your head throbbing to remind you that you still had that killer headache from before. The dampness of your clothes and the intensity of Jimin's gaze made goosebumps rise on your skin. There was no way you were going to miss the dark glint in his eyes, no matter how gentle his fingers had been while cleaning up your cuts. You could feel his breath on your face, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he brought his thumb to trace them. Your breath was caught in your throat, your body freezing in place as you tried to make distance between him and you, only to fail horrendously. It was as if he had put a spell on you, doing whatever he wanted to without being bothered by you. 

"I wonder what keeps bringing him back here. Could it be the way you taste?" 

Jimin inched closer, your nose brushing against his as he continued to trace your bottom lip. You were confused until Taehyung's voice reached your ears.

"Y/N!" 

Your head immediately jolted to the side, a breath of relief escaping your mouth as Taehyung appeared from the hallway. He was panting, his eyes red and puffy along with a scared look on his face. On seeing you, he closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his palm, finally looking much more relieved than a second ago.

"Fuck, you had me scared there with the blood and all." He shook his head, taking quick steps towards you and engulfing you in his arms. A wave of warmth passed over, your head burying itself in Taehyung's neck as he held you tightly against his chest. You had completely forgotten that your entryway was, indeed, decorated with footprints traced in your blood. 

"What the fuck happened?" Taehyung questioned, pulling away and examining you from head to toe until his eyes landed on your bandaged feet. He frowned deeply, kneeling down in front of you and lifting your foot up to see it for himself. Your attention was now all over the room, your eyes frantically looking around for Jimin who was sitting here seconds ago. 

Where did he go?

There was a mix of emotions battling in you. You were grateful that he disappeared, proving that he was definitely not real or anything. But you were a little worried. Worried because you didn't know if he'd come back or not. His words lingered in your mind, etching themselves into your mind as you thought about them over and over again. Alcohol was gonna be on hold for you, that much you could decide for yourself.

Taehyung snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to look at him as he stared at you with an expression you couldn't decipher. He simply raised an eyebrow, urging you to tell him what had happened. You gulped in response, stammering over your words as you covered up your situation. The last thing you needed was for Taehyung to think you were crazy.

"I just- the- the security system gave me a false alarm. I thought someone had broken in and ended up taking extreme measures." 

Taehyung bit his lip, glancing at the fallen knife along with your telephone, the one in which he had been screaming pointlessly only for you to not utter a word. A shiver passed down Taehyung's spine as he recollected the feeling of dread when he got your call. He had heard your heavy breathing followed by a clang. And he swore he had never been so worried about you. Sure, you had your fair share of 'calling-in-the-middle-of-the-night' episodes but they all were very vocal. You were always asking him for help but this time, there was nothing. It was different and that's why he was scared. 

"Are you okay now? You cleaned up yourself?" He enquired, gesturing to your feet that had obviously not been cleaned by you. You let out a shaky breath before nodding reluctantly, questioning yourself whether this was worth lying about. The white cloth around each of your foot was a sign that Jimin was very real. But you couldn't bring yourself to believe that. It was the most absurd thing ever, a story that would definitely land you in Namjoon's office every alternate day along with Nan breathing down-

Nan.

Your eyes widened as you pushed yourself into your feet, stumbling away from Taehyung and towards the door of your house. "Nan!" You bellowed, the anxiety from before settling in the pit of your stomach. But you could only get so far before Taehyung had his arms around you from behind, keeping you from running off outside the house. The open door mocked you as you stretched your hand out, desperately trying to get yourself out of Taehyung's grip to find Nan. She hadn't responded to your cries at all. And you had also seen the burning candle in her cottage. 

Something had happened to her and you knew.

"Taehyung, let me go! I need to find Nan!" You cried, feeling Taehyung's hold on you tighten as he hissed, clearly struggling to hold you in place. With one harsh tug, he turned you around, placing his hands on your arms and forcing you to look at him.

"Y/N, Nan is out of town. She had to leave for an emergency but you were asleep. She called me since she didn't want to wake you up." Taehyung rushed, relaxing when you stilled at his words. 

What?

Emergency?

You frowned, your breathing slowly falling back to its rhythmic pace as you stared at Taehyung with confusion laced eyes. Your muscles began giving up, your feet aching with the amount of pressure you were putting on your wounds. Your eyes slowly began closing, your head moving to rest on Taehyung's shoulder. Taehyung immediately wrapped his arms around you, one hand on your back and one hand behind your neck. 

"So tired…."

You mumbled, your consciousness giving away as you fell into a deep sleep. Or passed out, as Taehyung guessed. He hugged you for a minute, holding you close against him as he relished in your presence. He made a mental note to never fight with you again. It wasn't really a fight but it was enough to make you distance yourself from him. He couldn't live like that. 

Swiftly, Taehyung lifted you up in his arms, struggling to lock your door before heading upstairs to your room. He laid you down on the bed and proceeded to grab a towel from your closet along with a change of clothes. Taehyung was positive you'd wake up with a bad cold, seeing as he didn't know how long you'd been wearing those damp clothes. 

A sudden coldness fell over the room, goosebumps rising on Taehyung's skin as he stilled in his place. He could feel eyes on him, his breath getting caught in his throat and the fabric of your shirt slipping away from his fingers. 

It's nothing.

He told himself, smoothly turning on his heel to meet with an empty space. All he saw was you, asleep on the bed. He shook his head, tsking for being so paranoid. Sure, the night was eventful but that didn't mean he'd start seeing things himself. Because there was no way he had just seen movement in his peripheral, right? Taehyung's heart thudded in his chest, his lips parting in confusion and astonishment before turning around to get over with whatever he had to do. Picking out a cotton t-shirt from your closet, more specifically, his cotton t-shirt, Taehyung headed towards you. His eyes flickered to the painting on the wall, Park Jimin's eyes staring back at him mockingly. Unknowingly, Taehyung's lips turned upside down, his face showing distaste towards the man in the portrait. He felt threatened in so many ways but he knew this was wrong. How could he compare himself to a painting? 

Especially when paintings were everything to you? 

For all he knew, you didn't even care how heart broken Taehyung was feeling. But he pushed his disdain aside, for you. Because you were always gonna be a priority. Always.

With a heavy sigh, Taehyung sat beside you, taking your hand in his and caressing the back of it. 

"I'll wait, Y/N. I'll wait like I always do." He mumbled, kissing your fingers and moving to place his lips against your forehead. Oblivious to the man lurking in the shadows of the house, Taehyung tucked you into bed after cleaning you up. The sun was beginning to rise on the horizon, adding to Taehyung's decision of ditching work for the day. Lack of sleep wasn't something a businessman could deal with. And so, he got under the covers beside you, his arm tightly secured around your waist and his head buried in your neck.

That morning, you slept peacefully, forgetting all your problems for a little while. Maybe it was the way Taehyung was shielding you. Or maybe it was the fact that you didn't even know about the crimson liquid staining the floor of Nan's cottage. 

But who was to be blamed for it? 

Did Taehyung know about it? Did it have something to do with a certain someone who had taken residence in your home?

Were you crazy, afterall?

Maybe you'd find it all out someday.

Taglist: @csol16 @thanksforthemameries @min-t-posts @xanny91 @silverstitchedsoul @truestrengths @jackgot7lo @jazzytfw @cassiescarlet12 @kpopgirlbtssvt @slut-for-fandoms @kawaiimusiccollection @butwhatsoft @baby-glitch @wickedbutlovely @siphite @vincent-stargogh @sarcasticsmolstiles @lilyviolets @btsarmysvtcarat @pr1nc355y05h1 @sugasheart @yoongass @smolwriterdude @iamcrazyforkdramas @roseofmyst @vannilacake @yeontanie21 @rottenratatouille @chimchimeebabo @iwannabeanidol @nooooooooona

You know the drill for being tagged, lemme know in the comments. Also, what do you think happened to Nan?

-XX

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 6/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Brittany’s never believed theatre rumours; Brittany really doesn’t like bullies.

Notes: Warning for minor homophobia

Chapter 6: sure we'll be laughed at, but we all know

///

Brittany wakes up to the faint smell of bacon and hash-browns. She’s disorientated for a second, wondering how in the world her window managed to change walls in the middle of the night and when her pale yellow sheets turned grey, before she realizes that she’s curled up in Mercedes’ bed, the afghan that’s usually draped over the foot of the bed tangled around her shoulders under the comforter. The skin of her face feels raw and tight, the kind of tightness that comes from not wiping away her tears before falling asleep, and she’s somehow still exhausted despite her deep, dreamless sleep. She can hear Mercedes in the kitchen, frying pans knocking together and the kettle screaming, and Brittany sighs and buries her face in one of the pillows thrown around the head of the bed; it smells like Mercedes’ lavender shampoo, and a hint of Sam’s cologne and her own honeysuckle and jasmine body wash from when they all have movie nights and curl up in Mercedes’ room because she has the comfiest mattress. Brittany breathes in deeply, hoping the scents she’s always associated with her best friends will soothe her.

It doesn’t really manage to take her mind off Lord Tubbington though.

The door eases open and Brittany can tell Mercedes is hovering in the doorway, debating whether to wake Brittany or let her sleep.

“Morning,” Brittany croaks, making the decision for her.

Mercedes sighs, so softly that Brittany barely hears it, and crosses the room, settling on the bed somewhere by Brittany’s hip. She hesitates for a moment, but before Brittany can say anything, her warm body is pressing to Brittany in a fierce hug; she smells of breakfast food and coffee and clean from her morning shower. Brittany sighs and sinks back into the embrace. “How are you feeling?” Mercedes whispers.

Brittany manages a little shrug. “I dunno. Sad and, like, empty, I guess. Like when you’re really, really hungry in the middle of the night and you can feel how empty your stomach is empty, except everywhere.”

Mercedes nuzzles closer, and Brittany can picture her face, her brows drawn a little together and the skin around her mouth tight. “I’m so sorry, Britt-Britt,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” Brittany mumbles.

Mercedes is quiet for a moment while Brittany stares blankly out the window. It’s surprisingly clear out, sunbeams streaming through the thin curtains and making swirling patterns on the carpet. “You could take the day off,” Mercedes suggests finally.

Brittany shrugs. “I dunno,” she mumbles, “I just want the day to be normal, you know?” Mercedes hums against her shoulder in acknowledgement. “Besides, dancing always helps me forget about everything, and I kinda need that right now, you know?”

Mercedes hums again, and Brittany sighs. She doesn’t really feel teary anymore, just tired and empty and lonely, even with Mercedes pressing comfortingly all along her back, breathing in sync with her. Eventually Mercedes crawls off the bed and tugs Brittany up after her, and they both follow their noses back to the kitchen where Mercedes has breakfast set up all along the counter, a mug of steaming hot chocolate sitting in front of Brittany’s stool at the kitchen island, whipped cream piled so high it hasn’t even melted all the way in yet. Brittany smiles at Mercedes’ back, feeling warmth curl in her chest, grateful that she has a best friend who knows her so well. They dish up breakfast quietly before settling into their usual spots breakfast spots and eat in comfortable silence.

“I forgot to ask last night, because of— Everything,” Mercedes finally says, “But how did you get home? I didn’t realize my phone was on silent until this morning and I’m so sorry if you tried to call me for a ride.”

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Brittany shrugs a little and pokes at her eggs, “Santana and I shared an Uber home.” She points to the southeast, where their front door is, with a forkful of eggs. “She lives like ten-ish minutes that way.”

“That’s nice of her,” Mercedes says, smiling just a little bit at Brittany.

Brittany feels the corner of her lip turn up in return, just a little bit, and the ache in her chest eases at the warm smile on Mercedes face. “Yeah,” she says simply.

Mercedes hums and, despite the slight smirk tugging on her lips, she remains silent. Brittany insists on cleaning up since Mercedes did all the cooking, before she heads to her room and calls her mom. Her mom puts her on speakerphone with her dad and her sister, and they spend most of the morning reminiscing on Lord Tubbington’s antics. By the end of it Brittany finds herself feeling a little bit better; talking about how much they all loved Tubbs and laughing about how many times food would suddenly go missing and Tubbs would suddenly get fatter makes her feel lighter, until the ache behind her eyes is almost gone. And when Mercedes knocks quietly on her door so they can head to the theatre, Brittany doesn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

//

Mercedes has to go talk to Kurt about something as soon as they get there, so Brittany ends up wandering the theatre by herself after they check in at the call board. She stops in at her favourite rehearsal room in the hopes that she can blast some music and forget about everything for a little while before she has to start warm ups with the company, but instead finds Jake and Jane practicing the Pas de Deux from the second act. They call out greetings to her and she waves at them before heading back the way she came.

“Hey, Brittany!”

Brittany glances over her shoulder and finds Puck coming up behind her, his arms full of props. “Hey,” she greets quietly.

“Do you mind giving me a hand?” he asks, and Brittany quickly relieves him of the box blocking his view. “Thanks,” he pants, “I thought I could do it all in one trip, but I don’t want Lopez seeing me and going all crazy spicy Latina on me again for dropping something like she did last time.”

Brittany’s nose wrinkles up. “That’s racist,” she says idly.

Puck doesn’t seem to have heard her; he never does when she calls him out on something. “Speaking of Lopez, did you hear?” he asks, obnoxiously waggling his eyebrows at her. Brittany frowns at him; he looks a little bit like a cartoon character, struggling to see past the props still in his arms, his dumb mohawk stuck to his sweaty forehead, a smirk tugging at his lips that Brittany recognizes as the lecherous leer he gets whenever a new dancer—especially those without any knowledge of his reputation—joins the company. “There’s a rumour going around that she plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” he says in a stage whisper.

“I’m pretty sure she only works here,” Brittany says tiredly, “it’s part of her contract.”

“Not like her job, Brittany,” Puck explains slowly, and because Brittany is trailing behind him to fit through the entryway that leads to one of the back hallways of the theatre, he doesn’t see her roll her eyes. “Like who she takes to bed type of team.”

Brittany’s not quite sure what to say to that, not because she thinks of Santana any differently now, but because she’s pretty sure this is not something Santana wants floating around the theatre; despite working in the arts, Brittany’s encountered a surprising amount of homophobia, and something about Puck’s leer makes Brittany’s skin crawl.

“Did you hear me?” Puck asks, looking around a candy cane prop blocking his view so he can catch Brittany’s eye, it kind of makes Brittany want to take said candy cane and start beating him with it.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to process how gross you are.”

Puck smirks. “What can I say? Lopez is hot, I’m sure she has hot taste in women, and I like hot things.”

The urge to beat him with the candy cane is growing almost too strong to ignore now; Brittany’s never been particularly prone to violence, and she’s not sure if it’s her grief over Lord Tubbington messing with her emotions, the fact that she likes Santana and hates that there’s already rumours going around about her, the fact that she hates bullies, or some combination of all three, but she’s pretty sure if they don’t reach the prop room soon she’s going to snap.

“Wow,” Brittany says slowly, “You might just be the dumbest person on Earth.”

Puck just shrugs. “Maybe,” he agrees easily, smirking, “But I heard it from Finn who heard it from Santana herself.”

“Why was Santana talking to Finn?” Brittany wonders aloud. Finn’s half-way decent about thirteen percent of the time, and Brittany’s pretty sure his partial decency only exists because he sleeps about thirteen percent of the time.

“She wasn’t, he was down in the principal hallway bringing some extra Christmas ornaments up from storage and he overheard Lopez and Tina talking. Tina was asking if Lopez had been on any dates lately,” Puck pauses until Brittany glances at him before he finishes, delighted like a kid waiting up for Santa on Christmas Eve, “With a girl.”

Brittany shrugs. “Your point?”

“With a girl,” he emphasizes, a far off look in his eyes that makes Brittany feel like she needs a shower, “Like a lesbian.”

“Puck that’s gross,” Brittany says.

“No, it’s hot,” he leers.

Brittany scowls at him. “No, I mean you’re gross for being a creep.”

Puck shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a guy.” Brittany dumps the box she’s carrying on top of the pile in Puck’s hands, making him stagger under the unexpected weight. “Hey! I thought you were helping!”

Brittany just shrugs as she spins on her heel and walks back the way they came. “I don’t really think I can provide the help you need,” she deadpans over her shoulder.

//

She doesn’t see Santana at all before the show, not even for notes, but she hears the whispers of gossip that Puck mentioned as she heads for the stage during intermission. It makes her blood boil, especially after last night because her emotions are still a little all over the place. She can feel the angry creeping along her fingers and sticking to her stomach, and she can’t quite control the scowl she gives some of the snow corps as she walks past them; they’re the group who is almost always at the root of any rumour.

But before she can do more than glare at them for their whispers, she’s running into something warm and solid and groaning. Her hands automatically reach out to steady the source of the groaning, and then deep, dark eyes are locking on her own.

“Brittany,” Santana says breathlessly, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Brittany easily shrugs, searching Santana’s face for any sign she’s heard the rumours about herself, but Santana’s face is only open and warm and concerned. Brittany suddenly realizes that her hands are still on Santana’s shoulders and she hurriedly pulls them back to her, playing with the hem of her tutu. Santana quickly pushes her headset off of her ears until it’s hanging around her neck, giving Brittany her full attention; it makes Brittany feel vulnerable and important, because she can hear the tinny sound of voices through the headset, but Santana barely seems to notice them. “How are you?” Santana asks, her voice quiet and more tender than Brittany’s ever heard someone’s voice go.

That sharp ache of pain arcs through Brittany’s chest, but she manages a small smile. “I’m good,” she says.

Santana’s face changes a little bit, like she doesn’t quite believe Brittany but doesn’t want to say anything. She leans closer, her voice even quieter. “It’s okay if you’re not,” she whispers, “I get it. I would have understood if you hadn’t come in today.”

Brittany’s breath catches a little bit, like someone reached into her chest and squeezed, and she’s suddenly blinking back tears. “I wanted something normal today,” she finally admits, “You know, to keep my mind off it.”

Santana’s hand suddenly brushes over hers, and the ache in Brittany’s chest eases just a little bit at the gentle squeeze of Santana’s fingers around hers. “I get that,” she murmurs. Brittany’s eyes catch in the deepest groove of Santana’s for a moment and Brittany can see exactly how true Santana’s words are; Brittany’s a little glad when Santana’s eyes dart away because those dark eyes make her feel like a little bit like she’s free falling from an airplane without a parachute, a little bit dangerous and a little bit scary and a whole lot exhilarating. “But if you need anything,” Santana continues, shrugging a little, “Time off or a hug or a friend, I’m good for any of it.”

“Thank you,” Brittany whispers, desperately ignoring the prickle she can still feel behind her eyes. Mercedes already had to help her reapply her makeup once today, and Brittany’s due on stage too soon for her to reapply it again.

Santana seems to realize this and her fingers slide across Brittany’s wrist as she pulls back a little bit; Brittany suddenly realizes she can breathe properly again without ever realizing her breath was caught in her chest in the first place. “Are you up for notes after the show?” Santana asks.

“Oh yeah, you didn’t come for notes earlier,” Brittany says, her question implied rather than outright asked.

Santana rolls her eyes so hard she tosses her head back a little, and Brittany bites her lip at how cute the gesture is. “Yeah, Puck tried to take all the props down in one trip, like a dumbass, and dropped them, of course, and broke a bunch of them. I swear to god this is the only prop department I’ve ever worked with that isn’t completely anal about taking care of the props, but nope, he just cost the company a couple hundred dollars.” Brittany smirks at the image that rises to her mind; she’s not sure if she necessarily believes in karma, but she can definitely admire its handiwork. “Anyways, I went down there for check-ins before half hour and found him trying to clean it all up. He was being,” Santana pauses for long enough that Brittany wants to hug her, and then go and beat Puck with that candy cane prop, “weird, I guess. But after I chewed him out for being a dumbass and not making more than one trip, he shut up pretty quick.”

Brittany laughs a little bit, and her chest feels light for the first time all day. “Emma’s really, really anal about the props, but whenever she’s out sick Finn and Puck completely fall apart.”

“Yeah,” Santana mutters, “So do the props.”

Brittany giggles, and is about to respond when she catches sight of one of the snow corps out of the corner of her eye sneering at Santana. Brittany’s pretty sure her name is Brynn or Bree or something, though she doesn’t pay much attention to the more malicious members of the snow corps; but even if she doesn’t recognize her, there’s this glint in her eyes that Brittany knows all too well, and the sneer on her face carries in her voice as she calls across the stage.

“Watch out there, Sugar Plum,” she snarls, “You wouldn’t wanna get to close. I’m pretty sure lesbianism is contagious.”

Brittany can see the exact moment that Santana processes what was just said, her dark eyes go wide for a second and her spine straightens with a jolt as if someone just yanked on a string at the top of her head. There’s burning anger in Santana’s dark eyes, but Brittany’s pretty sure she could scrape it away with her fingernail and reveal the bright, aching pain underneath.

Brittany feels that bubbling anger she’s felt all day start to give way and she scowls at Brynn or Bree or whatever. Her own anger is bright and flaring, all of the frustration and grief of the last couple weeks surging like liquid fire through her veins. “I’d rather catch lesbianism than whatever it is that’s made your face look like that,” she says, her voice so quiet and dangerous that it shocks Brynn or Bree or whatever into taking a startled half-step backwards. “Is it the snow that makes your face freeze like that or is that just how you’ve always looked?” Brittany continues, slipping into the practiced confusion that’s served her so well over the years, “Either way, don’t get too close to a fireplace. You might melt.”

Brynn or Bree or whatever gets lost in the sea of dancers gathering for the start of act two and Brittany takes a deep breath to calm the blood rushing in her ears before she turns back to Santana. She’s still frozen, her wide eyes on Brittany’s and the set of her shoulders stiff. “Hey,” Brittany whispers, carefully moving closer to Santana, as if she’s an overly cautious bird that might fly away at a sudden movement, “Are you okay?”

Santana blinks, her gaze darting between Brittany’s eyes. Brittany lets Santana stare at her, hoping she finds what she’s looking for. “I— Uh— Yeah,” she stutters. “That was— I mean,” her brown eyes finally still and settle on Brittany’s, and Brittany feels warm all over. “Thank you,” Santana says earnestly, the glow her dark eyes making something in Brittany’s chest shiver.

Heat crawls under her skin and she already knows the pink splotching her cheeks is obvious, even under the dim stage lights. “I’ve been looking for a reason to call her out,” Brittany admits, “She’s always been awful.”

“I—” a particularly loud voice comes through the headset still around Santana’s neck, and Santana jumps a little, only now seeming to realize that one of the other stage managers has been trying to get her attention for a while. She gives Brittany an apologetic, slightly helpless look, but Brittany easily waves her off. Santana quickly pulls her headset back over her ears and mutters something into the mic. She listens intently right as one of the stage hands starts wandering through the dancers, calling five minutes to the end of intermission, and Brittany starts a little, not realizing how much time has already passed.

Santana sighs deeply and draws Brittany’s attention back to her; she’s worrying the notebook in her hands and scowling into space. Brittany smiles a little at the furrow in her brow; she’s not sure what it is about this woman, but pretty much everything about her is adorable. Brittany touches her elbow to draw her attention, and the way her face instantly clears into a small smile when she looks at Brittany makes Brittany feel a little bit like she might be floating. Brittany points towards the curtains and Santana nods quickly. She covers the mic with her hand and her eyes go liquid soft for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Brittany can feel her heartbeat pound everywhere. “Any time,” she promises.

//

Santana shows up at Brittany’s dressing room just as she’s heading out, and there’s something easy and light in her expression that wasn’t there earlier. Brittany smiles at her until Santana’s dimples crease her cheeks and she looks away breathlessly. “No notes?” Brittany teases.

Santana shrugs and looks shy for a moment, before she takes a deep breath and gestures towards the hallway, waiting until Brittany’s locked the door and they’ve started heading down the hallway to answer. “Not tonight, I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she says easily, bumping her shoulder against Brittany’s, “You did amazing like usual, by the way. Especially, you know, considering everything.”

Brittany smiles a little, and despite the ache in her chest she feels less empty than she did this morning. Between talking to her family this morning, Mercedes being an amazing best friend, and Santana’s understanding, she’s realizing that she has pretty great people in her life. Sure, she misses Tubbs just as much as she did this morning, and she doesn’t think that will every go away completely, but having so many people around who care about her makes her realize that she’s never going to be as lonely as she was when it felt like Tubbs was the only one who understood her.

“What was he like?” Santana asks softly.

Brittany feels her lips curl up a little. “His name was Lord Tubbington,” she says, watching Santana out of the corner of her eye to gauge her reaction.

She does admirably; after letting out an involuntary giggle, she bites down on her bottom lip to stifle her amusement. “Lord Tubbington?” she manages in a mostly calm voice.

Brittany nods seriously. “We called him Tubbs for short.”

Santana turns sparkling eyes on her, and despite the teeth sunk into her lip to contain her smile, her cheeks still dimple. “That’s cute,” she says, her voice bright with amusement.

Brittany grins, and Santana relaxes a little. Brittany glances around the hallway, even though she already knows it’s going to be empty, before leaning close to Santana. She smells of citrus and vanilla and pinewood underneath the clinging scent of the theatre, and it makes something in Brittany’s chest fall into place. “He was really fat,” she whispers.

Santana’s teeth release her lip as she throws her head back with a delighted laugh. “Please tell me you have pictures,” she gasps.

Brittany grins and quickly struggles to tug her phone out of her pocket. She opens it and quickly finds her photos app, pulling up the album of Lord Tubbington’s best pictures. They end up hovering near the end of the principal hallway, huddled over Brittany’s phone as they scroll through pictures of, what Santana deems, the fattest and most adorable cat in the world. Brittany narrates some of Tubbs’ best moments, including the time he somehow got onto the table one New Year’s Day supper and shoved his head into the cheese fondue, and the time he got out of the house only to be picked up and cared for by a biker gang until they saw his lost posters and brought him back home. Santana’s completely enamoured by the stories Brittany tells, and it’s fun and therapeutic to reminisce on all of her adventures with, in Brittany’s humble opinion, the best cat in the world.

Mercedes had already left to pick up some snacks for them because, despite it being almost ten o’clock at night, she always knows how hungry Brittany is after a show, and since Santana’s ride had to go met up with her mom and dad, Santana offers to share another Uber back to their apartments, much to Brittany’s delight. Brittany quickly texts Mercedes that she doesn’t need a ride and she’ll meet her back at the apartment instead.

They reach the back exit and spill onto the street in a fit of giggles as Brittany narrates how the first and only time she tried smoking when she was fourteen, she heard her mom coming in the front door early and promptly framed Tubbs for the smell of smoke lingering on her clothes so her mom wouldn’t get mad at her (it didn’t work, of course, but her mom found it so amusing that she let Brittany off with only a stern warning that, if Tubbs ever did it again, he’d end up grounded for the rest of his life).

They direct the Uber driver to Brittany’s apartment first, and Santana keeps asking questions about Lord Tubbington, much to Brittany’s surprised delight. Santana hangs onto her every word, as if she’s the most interesting thing Santana’s ever seen, and it makes something lifting and bright curl in Brittany’s chest. They reach her and Mercedes’ apartment far too soon in Brittany’s opinion, and she quickly gives Santana money for her half of the fare, insisting on it when Santana tries to refuse because Santana didn’t let her pay her half last night. Santana eventually accepts, though with much whining reluctance, and Brittany grins, triumphant, and turns to get out of the car. Her fingers have barely wrapped around the handle of the door when Santana’s hand on hers freezes her. “Hey,” she whispers.

Brittany feels something deep in her chest leap to attention. “Hey,” she whispers back.

“I’m really glad you told me about Lord Tubbington,” Santana says quietly, “And I’m really glad to see you smiling again, even though I know you must still be hurting.”

Brittany’s breath leaves her all at once and all she can manage is a small shake of her head and a soft smile. “Thanks for listening,” Brittany whispers.

Santana’s nose scrunches up a little and those dimples crease her cheeks. “Anytime, Britt. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Santana,” she whispers, finally crawling out of the car and carefully shutting the door behind her. She watches as its taillights head east towards the first set of lights before turning south towards Santana’s apartment.

Brittany takes a moment to breathe in the crisp night air before turning and heading into her apartment building; she still keenly misses Tubbs but, unlike she had that morning, she’s doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.