#i was heading to an exam once after downing a red bull after my usual morning brew and i was shaking so bad

[sukirichi]

sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face.  “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan​ @ggsmashgg​ @dora-the-grownup​ @ninefuckingoneone​ @ambiguous-something​ 

[imagine-this-fandom]

The Rescue: BNHA x Fem! Reader- Red Pitbull

the rescue intro: here

Inko led you through the store, only pausing to put Izuku back into his habitat. You followed her through the aisles of the shop, hearing the barking from the next room growing louder as you neared the door.

Inside was a wide variety of dogs. The shop was deceptively big considering its unassuming exterior. The Large room was a playroom of sorts. Almost a greeting room so people could meet the dogs in a fun and comfortable environment.

Your eyes tracked the movements of the dogs closest to you, searching for your potential new friend. There was a wide variety of dogs from young to old. Each had their own fun personality and you mused that you'd be happy taking any one of the furballs home. That is... Until you saw Enji.

You had never really been afraid of dogs, but this one... He was intimidating.

Pitbulls never really intimidated you. There were too many good ones out there for their reputation to bother you. This one however was scary looking. You didn't want to judge him right away, but he was every scary pitbull stereotype rolled into one. Rusty red fur covered the dog in patterns reminiscent of flames. White patches reinforced the flame look, snaking up his chest and up his paws like little fire boots. What caught your eyes the most was his eyes. Teal was not a color you had ever seen on a dog before, and on him, they were piercing, like the hottest center of a flame. There was an intelligence there that made you wary. Smart dogs were a handful and from the way he was looking at you and Inko, it seemed he had already made up his mind on you. His expression was pinched into as close to a scowl as his facial patterns would allow, white splotches on the ridges of his head forming eyebrows that gave the illusion of a glare.

You hoped against it, but as soon as you saw him, you knew he was the animal for you. Inko's leading grip on your wrist confirmed your suspicion, only loosening once you both stood before the muscular dog.

"(y/n), It's my pleasure to introduce you to Enji. Enji, this is (y/n). She's agreed to talk care of one of our residents here."

You watched the exchange, noting how his eyes fixed on her, his scowl deepening as she spoke. You couldn't help the giggle that slipped free, his expression was just so serious for a dog!

He whipped his head around to look at you, that ridiculous scowl still in place. He was trying his best to look intimidating and powerful, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he wasn't human. Had he been as he was before the quirk cursed him, Enji Todoroki would have been a fierce sight to behold. But now he simply looked like a pouting child throwing a tantrum, the scowl not translating right over the switch of species. His usual cold and intimidating demeanor were overshadowed by the fact that he was now just a little under two feet tall.

He watched you try to stifle your laughter, your form shaking with the effort as his expression got more and more exasperated. This was who he was expected to put up with for the rest of his time in this form? As the former number two hero, he was less than impressed. He gave a disgruntled bark, looking at Inko to ask if she was serious, but the look she gave him halted him in his tracks.

Endeavor had dealt with many villains over his hero career, but few held the kind of authority as a mother figure. She radiated sternness and he quickly understood that in this case, her word was law. She left the decision in your hands rather than his paws.

When he looked back at you, you had composed yourself again, a wide grin in the place of the wary expression you had carried upon seeing him for the first time.

"You really believe he's the one for me, Inko?" You tilted your head, examing the rather put-out-looking dog, surprising yourself with the hope that Inko would say yes. Sure he was intimidating, but that silly scowl made you smile. And pit bulls were hard to place, so it was a toss-up if he would ever get a chance like this again. You resonated with that more than you'd like to admit. Maybe it was your savior complex, but if you could help him, you wanted to. He deserved a chance.

The little fluttering hope in your chest flared happily when Inko nodded.

"I think you two will be good for each other. I trust you with him and think it's for the best."

with these words from Inko, Enji's scowl fell with a resigned huff. This would be a definite change, one he wasn't likely to enjoy. However, you were excited, and perhaps he could work with that.

You smiled softly and reached down to ruffle his ears. He was surprised by the touch but more so by the fact that it was a pleasant sensation. He quickly pulled out of your grip to grumpily sit with his back to you. He wasn't going to let you win him over so easily. He was originally the number two hero after all! His resolve was stronger than that, surely, he thought to himself.

He watched you move away to help Inko gather supplies, eyes following your every movement. You had seemed frightened at first, so he couldn't wrap his head around why you had accepted Inko's proposal. You were baffling to him, and he was determined to untangle the puzzle that was you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enji was confusing. He was so grumpy and far too much of a snob for a dog. You figured he was a rescue at this point. He refused to eat regular dog food, refused to sleep anywhere but a proper bed, and was intent on getting his way at all times. It was exhausting. There was a point when you almost returned him the first week, but it was also the point where you realized you didn't want him to go.

You had been walking him when a criminal attack happened just across the street. You watched in mute horror as a villain used their quirk to ransack a storefront, likely after the money in the register. You quickly turned your back on the sound of breaking glass only after affirming that someone was calling authorities. This was no place for a civilian to interfere. Enji, did not think the same way. He was tugging ferociously against the walking harness.

"Enji! We need to go, stop this!"

You tried to reign him in, but he just pulled all the harder, the woven material of the leash digging into your hands as your white knuckle grip was tested against the dog. It was a miracle he didn't pull you off your feet.

You fought against his weight to pull him away from the scene all while he barked and fought against you. Finally, you were able to pull him around a corner and away from the violence. Enji was not pleased to say the least.

How dare she, he thought, glaring at you, with as much anger as he could muster. Who were you to keep him from hero work? He growled lowly in his throat at you. He knew that if he were in his human form, his flames would be flickering dangerously.

"Now you stop that right now. We are going home, Enji. Now." You glared back, annoyed and if you were honest, a bit shaken by the event.

He turned around as if to go back, but was stopped by a sharp tug on the lead.

"No, bad dog. Heel. We are going home. You need to listen to me."

You pressed your lips into a firm line, doing your best to be as authoritative as you could, hoping he would see this as a fight not worth having. Oh, how wrong you were. With each insistent tug on the leash, he grew more irritated. It all culminated in one moment where his temper got the best of him. He wasn't used to being ordered around and he lashed out in the only way he could in this form. He bit your hand, aiming to get you to drop the leash so he could go without you.

You yelped sharply in pain, pulling the limb to your chest protectively, the leash forgotten on the ground. Your eyes held him in place, eyes watery with unshed tears as you looked at him in hurt disbelief. He hadn't bitten hard enough to break skin, but that did not mean you were unscathed. Angry red welts were beginning to form where his teeth had dug and scraped.

Enji felt guilt forming in the pit of his stomach, something he was not used to. The look of betrayal you were giving him made him feel off-kilter. However, he wasn't going to dwell on it

You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay before grabbing the leash off the ground with your good hand, keeping your eyes on him the whole time, watching for any sign he would attack again. Your movements were slow, cautious, and untrusting. backing up, you held the leash so the most distance was between you.

"Enji, we are going home. Now." You tried to keep your voice stern, but you winced as you heard the small warble to it from pain. He locked his limbs as the leash went taut once more. Before you could react, he grabbed the leash in his teeth and yanked it out of your hands, and raced back towards the action.

You stumbled after him, his name dying on your tongue as he stopped right in front of the villain, powerful jaws locking around the criminal's leg. It's like the scene was in slow motion for you as Enji faced the villain alone.

He dug his teeth in, determined to defeat the criminal despite his lack of quirk or usual form. His arrogance knew no bounds, but as far as he was concerned, he was just doing his job. Oh, how out of his depth he was.

The villain in question was named deathstalker. Upon one glance it would be easy to guess his quirk. Extending from his back, a tan appendage loomed above him, curled to a dangerous spike. Venom tipped and massive, the scorpion tail was a sight to behold. And right now... it was poised to strike at your dog.

Before you even knew what you were doing, your feet were tearing across the pavement. Your lungs burned with each panicked breath you sucked in, watching as the villain flung Enji away with an angry roar. You changed course to intercept him, flinging yourself over the dazed mutt just as the point of the tail struck, stabbing into your shoulder with a sickening speed.

Deathstalker had the nerve to laugh then, watching as you skidded sideways on the street, shoulder bloody and arms scrapped from your landing, but dog safely clutched to your chest.

"What are you, some kind of idiot?"

Stalking forward, he nudged your shoulder with his foot, eliciting a cry of pain as your shoulder burned.

"Hope you're proud darling, you just died for an exceptionally stupid dog."

He sneered, watching as Enji tried to wiggle free and get at him.

"Looks like he still has a death wish. What do you say, dear, shall I end his life too so he can join his dear old master? After all, he seemed pretty determined in the first place. All you did was buy him time to watch you suffer too."

He smirked and crouched next to you, his golden irises standing out against black sclera as they scanned the wound on your shoulder and shredded sleeves.

"You know sweetheart, he was going to die anyway. The stupid mutt bit me. And here I was having such a good day."

You fought the dizziness as the venom worked its way through your body, the wound radiating uncomfortable heat. You managed to look him right in those unnerving eyes, making eye contact before you took a deep breath. He might have been preparing for you to beg or plead for your life, ask for some reassurance that you weren't going to die. Instead, you inhaled before spitting in his face, eyes narrowed in anger.

Before the Deathstalker could respond, he was suspended in a forcefield as heroes dropped onto the scene. He beat angrily against his new prison as the heroes gathered around and began helping civilians.

You finally released your death grip on Enji, all the adrenaline draining out of you as the villain was moved away. You closed your eyes, not having the energy to do much but lay there.

Enji was instantly in your face as soon as he was free, examining you as best he could as he swore under his breath. All you heard was grumbling and growling from him as you lazily offered him your hand.

"I'm okay, boy. It's okay now..." Your head was fuzzy, but you weren't too concerned about that.

Enji growled at your words, knowing that Deathstalker would not have lied about the deadliness of his quirk. You needed medical attention now! He pressed himself against your side and barked, alerting the heroes to your position. He was furious, both with you and with himself, but mostly at the villain. But the anger boiling up would have to wait. He growled lowly as one of the heroes tried to shoo him away, determined to stay by your side as you were tended to. He had already failed once today, he wanted to be sure you were cared for now. Each moment you weren't seen to was one more moment that you were in danger. A danger that you had been in because of him.

You were put on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance, Enji right by your side. He didn't usually stay with civilians after a fight, but with you, he didn't want to let you out of his sight. You were a stupid girl, charging in after him. But you had saved his life. And that rattled him.

~~~~~

You groaned as you awoke, hands going to scrub at your eyes after you were blinded by the white of the hospital room. As you sat and got your bearings, the events of before rushed back to you. The villain, your shoulder, and...

"Enji!"

Your eyes widened and you frantically tried to get out of bed, the heart rate monitor going wild behind you. Luckily, a bark stopped you in your tracks. Enji had been resting to the side of your bed, not having left your side if he could help it.

Upon seeing your concern, he jumped up against the bed, front paws resting on the mattress as he scanned you to see if you were truly recovered.

Once you saw the familiar red furry head, you relaxed, a wide smile spreading across your face.

"Hey buddy, you doing okay?"

He snorted. This was coming from the girl in the hospital bed? He was fine. A little bruised from the landing, but no worse for the wear.

"You're alright? Good. Never do that again. I have half a mind to take you back to Inko for that stunt." You frowned at him for a moment before your face softened into fondness. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, thumb gently stroking the side of his head.

"You really scared me, you know? I was so worried I'd lose you."

He let himself lean into your touch, telling himself it was for your comfort, and not because he enjoyed the sensation. He watched your expression carefully, surprised by the concern and relief he found there. You truly did not regret throwing yourself into danger for him. For getting hurt for him.

"That was a stupid thing for you to do too," he said, the voice escaping him a soft bark and whine instead of the words he wished to convey.

"I'm okay Enji, really," You smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his head. "My quirk protected me for the most part. Someone else's quirk can't kill me."

He tilted his head to the side, confused by your statement. The injury had seemed pretty serious to him.

"My quirk neutralizes anything deadly that comes in contact with me. Sharp objects? Those can hurt me. But the venom probably became relatively harmless after he got me. It made me dizzy and uncomfortable, but it wouldn't kill me." You sighed, scrunching your face in displeasure when you remembered the side effects of the venom.

"I'm just glad I was able to keep you safe until heroes got there."

You leaned forward and whispered to him in a conspiratorial voice.

"Ready to get out of here? Because there's no way I'm gonna stick around while doctors lecture me about being careless and compliment my stupid quirk."

You grinned as you pulled back and carefully climbed out of bed, ensuring that you weren't pulling on your IV before petting his head and leading him for the door.

~~~~

It had been a few days since the incident, and Enji was starting to worry you. He was originally very pushy and confident. Determined to get his way. Now though, he was quiet and contemplative around you, no longer pushing for his way all the time. You'd never entertained the thought before, but now desperate times called for desperate measures. You were having an intervention for your dog.

That day, you got home from work, the usual tiredness pushed away by determination. Enji could see the difference and was decidedly curious. What had gotten you so worked up? It can't have been any villains as you seemed no worse for the wear. He mused that perhaps you were finally going to get another job. The one you were working at was clearly taking advantage of your good nature and hard-working spirit. Or perhaps the neighbor had finally asked you out. He snorted at the thought, amused but also a bit annoyed. His thoughts were cut short when you dropped into a sitting position right in front of him.

"Enji, you're a smart boy. I want you to listen to me."

You focused on him intently, watching as he squared his shoulders and focused on you, face all hard lines and serious fire in his eyes.

"You've been different. Ever since the villain attack, you've been treating me like glass. You're quiet, accommodating. It's weird. "

You frowned slightly.

"I want my old Enji back. You were a pain, but you were my pain. You were arrogant, sure of yourself. "

He eyed you carefully, admitting to himself that he had grown cautious around you since the attack. He knew that quirks couldn't cause lasting damage, but he wasn't going to throw your sacrifice back in your face. He respected you now. Still, you were asking for friendship, not reverence.

He was used to power being the only way to get things. Yet here you were asking for something else from him. You didn't want him to submit to you, but rather be himself as your companion. A confusing proposition, but... not one he was opposed to. He had already seen how selfless and strong you were. Perhaps he could enjoy learning more about you without the formalities he was used to.

"Hey, space cadet. Did you hear me?" You narrowed your eyes at Enji as he focused back from his thoughts. "Man, what am I doing?" You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms, "I must be crazy at this point."

You brought the appendages down as you heard an amused huff escape from Enji.

"Are you laughing at me now?"

You could have sworn he smirked as he barked an affirmative.

"is that so, furball?" You grinned and lunged forward, raking your fingers through his fur.

The sensation startled him and he jumped away. Oh, so that's how you wanted to play... He could oblige.

Your eyes widened as he turned back and came at you. You quickly curled up to protect yourself, squeaking as his cold nose came in contact with your side. He growled playfully and pawed at you, trying to get past your defenses.

You giggled, squirming as you tried to evade him.

"Wait, stop!"

He grinned. "You started this! Don't make this easy for me now."

You launched a sneak attack, curling your body around his head, laughing as you wrestled him to the ground and attacked him with tickles.

"I got ya! I Win!"

He managed to wriggle free eventually and lay beside you, panting, but content.

"Fine, fine, you win. Little ember. And I'll remember your words. No need to treat you carefully from now on." He rested his head on his paws as you lay beside him, face flushed from laughter as you caught your breath.

Who knew Enji had a playful side to him. Perhaps Inko had been right. You were good for each other.

Now you had your pushy bad-tempered pit bull back, and you were going to enjoy it.

~~~~

Enji proved to be a bit of a jerk, but you had softened him up. He Was constantly pushing your buttons. He was in your space constantly, making sure you knew his opinions on everything. But you fought back. He knew better than to mess with you and knew you wouldn't take his bad behavior. You were determined not to let his bad behavior continue. You simply left the room if he lost his temper, and you didn't tolerate resorting to violence. He learned quickly if he wanted to get anywhere with you, he had to be calm.

He began to look forward to your company, the bickering one-sided on your end, but for him, it was exciting. You refused to back down from him and he realized he wouldn't have it any other way. Still, he did enjoy antagonizing you.

"Enji, move your fluffy butt! I have to go to work!" You struggled uselessly against him as he pinned you to the couch with his bulk. His response to your plea was to grumble and relax even further.

"You big galoot, I have to go make money, or would you rather I not feed you?" He huffed and stretched before leisurely climbing off the couch. You rolled your eyes and ruffled his ears and hopped up, brushing red fur off your uniform.

Despite the playful threat, the money issue was worrying you. Enji was a big dog, and you only wanted the best for him. That meant that he had plenty of toys, good quality food, and all the love and affection you could spare. However, money was starting to run tight. You had started to work extra hours as the weather started to get colder.

You bid Enji farewell and left for work, determined to keep up the cheerful appearance.

Enji was left to his own devices while you left. Something he was growing less and less content with. It was fun messing with you, and you didn't take any of his stubbornness. He patrolled the house, working through a training regimen he had perfected for this form. He missed his human form, but being with you made it easier. He was far too intimidating as a human. As a dog, you joked with him, teased him, coddled him, and weren't afraid to let him know when he messed up. He still cringed to think of those first weeks where he had acted like he was still the number two hero. A hero doesn't hurt innocent people, as you had shown him.

He paused by the window, noting the snowflakes coming down from the sky. It was times like these, he remembered Rei. He had been focused on the power he could gain from a union with her when he had married her. She had given him twins, but he knew that she would have moved on by now. He didn't blame her in the slightest. Still, he knew that if he ever came back to her, he'd be a different man. But he knew that he couldn't love her, not truly. The marriage was one of greed, and she would always resent him for that, and he wouldn't be able to blame her. Still, he regretted not being able to offer her his apologies in person.

Watching the snowflakes, he remembered with sharp discomfort that he had been in this form for almost a year now. How the media explained his absence was a mystery and he had tried not to focus on what he had lost. He shook himself out of his thoughts and continued his routine, making sure the apartment was in order before taking the latch of the window with his teeth and pulling it open.

He eased out the window with practiced ease and began a patrol of the area. While he admitted he couldn't be much help in this form, he still couldn't completely give up his hero work. Keeping the apartment complex safe wasn't much, but he had someone to protect here. He had memorized your schedule and noticed that you had been getting out later, so he knew he'd be able to make another circuit before he returned to greet you for the evening.

He stayed out for a couple of hours but was forced to return early as the weather worsened. The gently floating snowflakes from earlier had turned into a whirling blizzard, the icy wind biting into his small form as he made his way home. Pulling the window closed behind him, he was glad for the minimal warmth the apartment offered. One of the things he noticed in this form was the absence of heat his quirk had provided him. He quickly began to regret his foray into the winter weather as his paws ached with cold from the ice-packed into them from his dash home in the inclement weather. He closed the window as best as he could, frowning to himself as it didn't shut properly. Unfortunately, without thumbs, he couldn't fix it, so he resorted to huddling into your blankets, buried under sheets and your stupid allmight themed comforter. One that he had conveniently chewed the face off of.

In his blanket fortress, he found himself dozing, surrounded by the scent of your body wash and detergent. It was a comforting scent and he quickly fell asleep, unaware of whistling wind pushing the window open where the latch had failed to close when he returned.

~~~

Enji dreamed of being human again. He flexed his fingers experimentally, testing the sensation, one he hadn't felt in a long time. He examined his surroundings carefully, the change in perspective disorienting. It was your apartment, but it looked older, the carpet worn and more decorations faded. He picked up one of the dog toys on the floor, marveling at the difference from just earlier that day when you had encouraged him to play with it. Had that been today? It felt like a lifetime away, as dreams never do seem to keep the passage of time constant.

He set the toy down at the sound of the door, eyes widening as they caught on your form. You were shorter than him now. Considering he was 6'4" in this form, it shouldn't have surprised him. But still, it was strange looking down on you. You rolled your eyes with a playful smile and started to put your things away.

"Enji, darling, close your mouth. You'll catch flies like that." He could hear the laughter in your voice as you teased him. Darling? He hadn't heard you use that word for him before. He found he liked the way it sounded from you. Especially if it was reserved for him.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward, helping you remove your coat. His heart caught in his throat when you looked back at him with fondness. He was usually so sure of himself. But this change was strange and he found himself flustered.

"You're so quiet today, hothead." You raised an eyebrow and placed your hands on your hips eyeing him as if he was a puzzle you had most of the pieces of but were having trouble placing the last ones.

"What's wrong? Did you break something while I was out?" You gasped and pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Did you try to get rid of my Allmight stuff again? I swear Enji, I will kill you if you did."

This was too strange to be real, he told himself, watching you silently as you began muttering to yourself and throwing him confused looks. This scenario was too good to be true. He knew this deep down, but he desperately wanted it to be real. He knew he had begun to grow feelings for you, but to have them returned like this felt too alien. He instinctively knew that something was off, but he wanted to pretend, just for a little longer.

He caught your hand mid gesture and placed a gentle kiss to your fingers, a small smirk forming at your flustered silence.

"Quiet yourself little ember. I haven't done anything to your stupid merchandise."

You huffed and pulled your hand from his grip, cheeks red.

"Well then why were you so quiet, dummy?"

He tilted his head lightly, a smile forming on his lips as he stared at you, enjoying the way you refused to meet his eyes a slight pout turning your lips down.

"I missed you," he murmured, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him once more.

You melted against him, leaning into his touch, gently holding pressing his hand against your face with your own. He noticed with a start that your hands were cold against his. Your face too. He frowned as you shivered against his palm, eyes opening to reveal crystals forming on your lashes. The color began to drain from your face, lips going blue as you stepped away from him.

He reached towards you, but your skin stung like frost burn against his touch. He desperately tried to pull you close to him, to heat you with his quirk, but he was no longer warm himself. Your skin grew silver and icy as you tried to push him away. His vocal cords were frozen, a cold lump in his throat that refused to form your name. He was forced to watch in terror as you went see-through, body made of ice. And then you crumbled beneath his touch, ice forming cracks, and your eyes met his one last time before you shattered into glittering crystalline ice shards before him.

He woke with a start, paws flailing in panic as he was roused by a loud noise. But it wasn't ice cracking he heard, but the front door striking the wall. slipping out from the blankets, he made his way through the thin powder of snow on the floor from the open window, hurrying to the living room to meet you and make sure you were okay.

The sight that met his eyes was straight out of his dream turned nightmare. You were shivering with cold, clothes clinging to you with ice forming at the folds. Your eyelashes were dusted with snowflakes, and your face was flushed with cold.

Enji whimpered, rushing forward to examine you. You gently shooed him away, not having the energy to be more strict. The freak blizzard struck on your way home from work. As you journeyed through the snow, you had tripped. You had attempted to steady yourself against a tree, but that only caused an avalanche of the cold snow to our down on you from above, soaking you thoroughly. You had hoped to warm up when you came home, but it was just as cold inside as it was outside. The window Enji had failed to close causing the winter chill to follow you inside.

You cursed and desperately removed your soaked jacket, hanging it up before stumbling to the bathroom. A strangled sound of dispair escaped your lips as the faucets failed to work. It seems the pipes had frozen. To top it all off, the lightbulbs flicked before plunging the room into darkness. The power had been knocked out. You were out of options to warm up. You staggered out of the dark room and worked to close the window. Enji trailed behind you, his fear growing as began to look more and more like the icy girl within his dream.

Peeling your wet clothes from your body was a difficult task while you were shaking. While you struggled with the buttons, Enji rushed to your dresser, dragging out the warmest clothes he could find. He left them by your side before sitting against your legs, offering as much warmth as he could with his body, as there wasn't much else he could do. He could hear your teeth chattering now, the sharp sound deafening to him. You changed as quickly as your cold temperature allowed and crawled into your blankets.

"Enji! Up." You patted the bed urgently, holding the blanket up for him to join you.

He curled up against your side, resting his head against your chest, hoping to provide heat to your vital organs. He whimpered against your cold skin, eyes searching your face with concern. This wasn't good. He hadn't been able to save you in his nightmare, and now he was worried he was going to lose you in real life as well.

You closed your eyes and shushed him, holding him close.

"It'll be okay Enji. Just try to conserve your energy. We'll be okay."

You reassured him, but you weren't so certain. With no heating, freezing temperatures, and an already chilled body, you weren't too sure what would happen next. Still, you had Enji and that meant that you'd give him everything you could. What little body heat you had was his.

You tried to fight off sleep, knowing that you weren't supposed to rest when you were freezing. Or was that with concussions? You didn't remember. You were tired, your body shaking with cold. Enji's whimpers were a near-constant sound now. His distress worried you, but you couldn't do more than try to keep him warm at this point.

You were hovering on the edge of sleep when it happened. A quiet pop sound came from nearby and you were vaguely aware of heat beginning to surround you. The blankets were removed and a heavy weight settled around your waist, warming you with an almost uncomfortable heat. You settled into it, wondering if you were reaching hypothermia. They said that once you got really bad, your mind started tricking you into believing you were hot while you froze. Oh well, so long as Enji was warm too.

Enji Cradled you close to his chest. He hadn't been prepared for the switch from dog to human, but he was beyond grateful for it. He had quickly moved you from the bed so as not to set fire to the covers as he activated his quirk. He cradled you against his chest, tucking your head against his neck, resting his chin on the top of your head as he let his quirk dance across his body at a low level.

"Hold on, little ember, you're going to be okay. Just hold on." Enji stroked his thumb against your arm, holding you close as he carefully upped the temperature slowly. He stayed awake well into the night monitoring your condition. He mentally thanked UA for their first aid and rescue classes, knowing that without them, he might have hurt you more than help.

He gently cared for you well into the night, too concerned about you to enjoy the feeling of you in his arms.

~~~~

You woke to a beam of sunlight cascading from your bedroom window. You didn't open your eyes though, you were too comfortable. You felt warm and content. However, the gentle rise and fall of your bed was enough to stir confusion in your sleep-addled mind.

You blearily opened your eyes, the last remnants of sleep blurring your vision. You stared up at red fur before your brain made the correction for you. That wasn't fur. It was hair. A red beard in fact.

Adrenaline shot through your system. You weren't in bed. You were in the arms of a stranger. A very attractive built stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

You kept your eyes on his face as you carefully tried to work yourself free, prying his fingers from your hip. You watched for any sign of wakefulness. You were almost free when you slipped up. His grip tightened as he began to rouse, eyes slowly opening to reveal the most striking shade of turquoise you'd ever seen.

Enji looked down at you through tired eyes, pleased to see that your color had returned in the night. However, the deer in the headlights look you wore didn't suit you.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, voice rough with sleep.

You shuddered as you felt the deep sound against you.

"I feel alright, albeit confused," You spoke slowly and cautiously, eyeing the handsome stranger with apprehension.

"Who are you? Where's Enji? He wouldn't have let you in here."

Enji looked up in thought, considering his response carefully.

"Enji is not far at all, ember. He's safe. I want to assure you that you're safe too."

You couldn't help the incredulous noise that escaped you at that.

"I'm sorry, but this doesn't seem like a situation I would deem 'safe'." You mumbled.

He just smiled and shook his head in response. If he wasn't already holding you, you were concerned your knees would have given out at that smile.

"I'm here because of a quirk malfunction. One that turned me and my team into animals upon contact." He looked at you firmly, fixing you into place with his gaze, offering no chance for interruptions.

"My name is Enji Todoroki, hero name: Endeavor. And I was turned into a pit bull that was entrusted to a frankly obnoxious but kind woman. I shared her home and was quite the jerk if I'm being honest. And then, the woman saved my life after I foolishly went after a villain. She shielded me from what would have been a death blow." He looked ahead, not wanting to see her reaction to his explanation.

"She has my respect, and.... should she accept it, my heart."

He waited in silence for a few moments more before looking back at you. You blinked in shocked silence as you worked to process the information. When he opened his mouth to say more, you firmly held a finger to his lips as you worked through your thoughts.

Finally, you looked back at him and narrowed your eyes, removing your finger.

"Prove it. Prove that you're my Enji and not some creep with an insane story?"

His stomach fluttered when you referred to him as 'your' Enji. But he needed to focus.

"Well..." He shifted his hold, rubbing circles on your hip as he thought. "I bit you right before the scorpion villain fight. It was a mistake on my part, and I've wanted to apologize ever since. When you woke up in the hospital, you told me about your quirk. When you get upset, you brew your favorite hot drink and watch your favorite show, knees tucked underneath yourself on the couch. Sometimes you let me join you, leaning against your side. You always laughed when I grumbled at something the characters did, saying I was too much of a critic."

You stopped his babbling once more with a finger to the lips. He leaned forward and kissed the finger, watching as a blush spread across your face.

"So... you are telling the truth." You pulled the hand back to your chest, shoulders relaxed from their tensed state. You relaxed back against his chest before quickly leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"Thank you Enji, for saving me. I would have frozen." You watched as a self-satisfied smile spread over his face. he leaned down for another kiss before you stopped him with a giggle.

"Alright loverboy, that was all you're getting. First, you need clothes and then we're going to go out on a proper first date where you tell me about the human Enji."

"I'm looking forward to it." He grinned before kissing your forehead and standing, gently setting you on your feet.

The dynamic between you two was in for a change, but you looked forward to dealing with this new Enji and learning how to move forward with him in your life.

[trumpkinhotboy]

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls. 

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods. 

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires. 

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past. 

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him. 

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places. 

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease. 

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone. 

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely. 

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-" 

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue. 

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you. 

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?" 

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium. 

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back. 

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..." 

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. 

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy. 

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - A special night

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Ordering a sweet treat to be delivered to the other person at home/work

Word Count: 2,136

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Gavin/Freelancer. Vincent Solaire/Lovely) 

Rating: T

Triggers: NA

Summary: Having an Incubus boyfriend comes with many perks. The Freelancer and Lovely really should have seen it coming. 

ConCrit: Y 

Well, I guess this can be a sequel to my previous oneshot, REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest. I really wanted to write the Freelancer and Lovely interacting after their first, proper meeting so this oneshot suddenly comes to mind! 

-

Exam week is the bane of every student, everywhere — even for the magical ones. 

An uneasy atmosphere lingers around D.A.M.N as the current semester hurl the students into an intense week of revisions, study groups, and extra classes; all for the upcoming exams. 

The seniors are frantically cramming for their final papers and projects under the watchful eyes of the lecturers. The Freelancer doesn't envy them one bit when they caught a Sonal Energetic screamed into his backpack for a solid ten minutes. 

His scream shakes the student lounge, and the windows shattered. 

Once he got that out of his system, he focused back towards his textbook, expressionless. The rest of the students around the Energetic hardly bat an eye over what just happened. 

On that day, the Freelancer learned to avoid a large group of seniors until the exam week blows over. 

"The tension alone in that lounge could make a Serenity Daemon hide underneath a bed." The Freelancer narrates their experience to Lovely. The two of them are currently having their own study session over at the Freelancer's apartment. 

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and yet here they are - flipping through textbooks, reviewing and swapping notes and downing cans of coffee and Red Bulls from as early as 9 AM. "Even the janitor wasn't fazed by it. He just snapped his fingers, and the windows were good as new!"

That night after their proper introduction, Lovely and the Freelancer had become quite good friends, much to Vincent's annoyance and Gavin's pleased smirk when the Freelancer told him that Lovely would be coming over for their study session. 

"Aww, look you, Deviant. Arranging a little study date with that friend of yours," Gavin teased during breakfast this morning. They both woke up early to prepare meals that could last the Freelancer and Lovely throughout the whole day. When his Deviant absentmindedly replied, "Uh-huh" as they were busy chopping the vegetables, Gavin couldn't help but plant a fond kiss on top of their head. "Anyway, I'll be popping into Aria for a bit today. A few of my, ah, older brothers and sisters called for a meeting. Can I trust that you two won't be having too much fun without me?"

The Freelancer stopped chopping to gave their boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Gavin, we'll be studying." They explained. "Our first paper is literally next week. So I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there won't be any fucking happening." They then stop themselves. They suddenly recalled something. "I don't want to be on that Solaire Prince's hit list too."

Gavin just cooed at their disgruntled partner, as if the genuine possibility that the both of them being shred to pieces by Lovely's possessive boyfriend amused him. 

Nonetheless, Gavin pulled his weight to ensure there was enough food and comfortable pillows and blankets in their shared apartment so that his Deviant and the Electro Energetic would be comfortable for their revisions. 

An hour before Lovely arrived, Gavin kissed the Freelancer goodbye and Rifted into his home dimension. 

And now we're back in the present. 

"I think those students around that guy were his classmates," Lovely commented. They take a quick sip of the lemonade that Gavin prepared to refresh their parched throat. Even in a simple pair of slacks, baggy t-shit, and hair pulled up in a bun, they still look as breathtaking as ever. "They reacted as if it was like a regular Tuesday for them. It's so crazy to think that we'll be seniors like them soon."

The Freelancer pours more lemonade into their glass from the pitcher beside them. Their books, notebooks and snacks are spread all over the dining table. A large and fluffy pillow is propped behind the Freelancer so they can lean back on their chair comfortably. "Urgh, mood. I can already imagine the coursework we'll be forced to do in our final semester." They groan. Their brain is fried from all the information and notes they've been reviewing since this morning. On top of that, the thought that they will be getting even more work once they hit their senior year is starting to freak them out. 

Seeing the Freelancer is having an internal crisis, Lovely quickly glance at the time on their phone and decides, "OK, I think we seriously need a break. You look like you're going to pull a stunt similar to that Sonal Energetic, and I don't think your boyfriend appreciates coming back to a half-destroyed apartment."

"Gavin can fix the apartment with his magic, don't worry." The Freelancer is quick to assure Lovely. "He did that after he and Vega trashed the place anyway."

"Uh, what? Who's Vega?"

The Freelancer snapped their attention back to Lovely once they realised the name that they accidentally dropped. "N-Nothing! I didn't s-say anything!" They laugh awkwardly, doing their best to brush off Lovely's concerned expression. "Anyway, break! Yeah! That's a good idea! Are you hungry? We can watch something on Youtube and eat in the living room. You're OK with that?"

Lovely gingerly nods; it's best not to comment or ask about this Vega person since the name alone made their friend jumpy. They push their chair back, stretch their stiff spine, and get up to help set the plates and cutleries while the Freelancer heats the lunch they made in the morning. 

They then move to the living room with a tray of food and drinks, where the couch and coffee table are surrounded by pillows and blankets thrown around messily. 

"You play video games, right?" The Freelancer asked after Lovely settle down on the couch with a blanket over their lap. "Do you want to watch a playthrough or something?"

"Sure! Do you and Gavin play video games too?"

"Gavin does, though he usually only plays those dating sim games for girls. It's a guilty pleasure of his."

"Oh, Otome Games? My respect for your boyfriend just levelled up. Has he ever played Hatoful Boyfriend?"

"Uh... I don't remember he ever mentioned that title. What is it about?"

"We're watching a playthrough of that game. Right now. You can watch it with me, but you can't tell Gavin anything, OK? I promise you're going to love his reactions."

Lovely's eyes light up with glee and grin widely as the Freelancer switch on the Smart TV. When thumbnails of pigeons with pink hearts in the background pop up on the screen, they immediately throw an incredulous look at the Energetic. 

"That top playlist is good to watch. Come on, sit beside me." Lovely pats on the empty spot on the couch beside them, unperturbed at the look the Freelancer is giving them. "I think you're going to like Okosan."

The Freelancer press play on the first video and kick back on the couch with the Energetic. What's better than having a break after a long study session? Hanging out with a friend with some good food while watching a crazy romance video game about pigeons! 

However, when the fourth video starts to play, the doorbell rings. 

"Uh... are you expecting someone?" Lovely asks curiously; their head is tilting towards the door. Their plate of eggplant pasta and buttered abalones are polished on their lap. The Freelancer internally preened when they enthusiastically complimented on theirs and Gavin's cooking skills. 

Anyway, the Freelancer moves their empty tray onto the coffee table and flip over the blanket to get up. "Not really. Gavin said he'll be coming back home at night." They explain and went towards the door when the doorbell ring once more. 

A delivery man greets the Freelancer with a stoic face, an armful of flower bouquet, and a thick, rectangular item wrapped in hot red packaging. 

"I, uh, think you got the wrong address?" They said, confused to hell and back. 

The delivery man blinks, unfaze at the Freelancer's greeting. "Good afternoon. Delivery for..." He pauses to read the card attached to the bouquet. "Deviant? We received a request from Gavin to arrange a flower bouquet and some... special chocolates. He also left a message for you: My Deviant has been working so hard lately~ So I got you something to... help you relax. PS: give some of the special chocolates to that gorgeous friend of yours and their boyfriend."

The Freelancer could only gape when the delivery man finished reciting Gavin's message. From the living room, Lovely is also doing an excellent mimicking of a goldfish. Their stunned expression made the man sigh tiredly. "Look, I'm not going to judge your... bedroom activities. Just take the packages already. I still have more stops to deliver."

"O-Oh my god! I'm really, really sorry about my boyfriend!" The Freelancer finally snaps out of it and stammers an apology. Their face is bright red. They hurriedly accept the flowers and package, shoot a quick thank you and slams the door shut. 

Lovely watches as the Freelancer stares into the bouquet with a mixed feeling, something between fondness and extreme embarrassment, before they scream into the large sunflowers. 

They patiently wait for the Freelancer to get it out of their system before Lovely delicately asks, "So, uh, does Gavin do these sort of things often?"

"No. This is the first time ever." The Freelancer replies. Their voice is muffled because the flowers are still pressed onto their face. "That's what I get for dating an Incubus, I supposed..."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, dude! I think it's super sweet how much Gavin loves you. Flowers and chocolates? Boy got some serious game; might even give Vincent a run for his money, and you should've seen how we first met."

The Freelancer peeks through the petals and is relieved to find that Lovely wasn't put off by Gavin's forward nature. In fact, they are very accepting of the Freelancer and Gavin's relationship.

Feeling the warmth on their cheeks slowly disappearing, the Freelancer made their way back to the couch. The rectangular package is tossed onto the couch, and the bouquet is on the coffee table. The Freelancer figured they could put the fresh flowers in a water-filled vase later. 

"The guy said that Gavin sent you some chocolates?" Lovely reiterate as the Freelancer began to untie the ribbon and unwraps the box. 

"Special chocolates, and knowing Gavin, I kinda have an idea of what kind of chocolates they are." They admit and make quick work of tearing the paper wrappings. 

Apparently, Gavin ordered two types of chocolates for his Deviant. One box holds a fancy gourmet assortment of salted almonds dipped in rich Belgium chocolate, double chocolate raspberry truffles, vanilla pieces powdered with light matcha and some white praliné hearts. 

Lovely whistle, impressed over the spread. "Your boyfriend really went all out for you!"

The box below it contains rows of heart-shaped chocolates, but the short message written on the card of said box proves it's anything but ordinary treats. 

'These are homemade chocolates made by one of my close associates. She's a Succubus, by the way, and renowned for her aphrodisiac desserts. You can try some first if your Energetic friend doesn't mind being a voyeur.'

The Freelancer promptly throws away the card and cues them, and Lovely shrieking in embarrassment. Neither of them expects the second batch of chocolates. 

"These are sexy chocolates? Like, legit aphrodisiac chocolates made with magic!? Oh my god, I didn't know they were a thing!"

"I didn't either! I was expecting sex toys below the chocolates!"

"Wait - didn't Gavin wants to give these to Vincent and me!? Dude, does he has a thing for Vincent? Because at this point, I should tell you: he noticed that Gavin was purposely riling us up when they first met, and he's been thinking that your boyfriend is out to get him. But, uh, not in the sexy way, but I'm thinking otherwise now. And if that's the case, then you can warn that Incubus to be ready and catch these hands."

The Freelancer groans and hides their face in their hands. "OK, you know what? I'm going to put the special chocolates in the fridge, and then we'll continue watching a few more videos from the playthrough and get back to studying."

"... You're in denial."

"I'm just trying to keep whatever sanity I have left. It's been a crazy year."

"Urgh, tell me about it."

-

That night, at Lovely's and Vincent's apartment: 

"Vincent, baby? I'm back. Look what I got!"

"Welcome home, Lovely. Dinner's ready if you're hungry. Hmm? What's that?"

"It's homemade aphrodisiac chocolates made by a Succubus. Gavin and the Freelancer gave some to us."

"...I'm gonna punch that Incubus in his smug ass face."

"...Does that mean you don't want them in the bedroom tonight?"

"OK, I'll punch him tomorrow. C'mere, Lovely. I've missed you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

[when-they-write-stuff]

Since you posted that prompts list 🙃🙃🙃🙃 85. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” “I’m not jealous.” I neeeeeeed some jelly Derek, luv ya

The first time Stiles went to The Jungle, he’d been a scrawny, pale, sexually-confused teenager. Stiles was pretty sure he’d blundered in and made a complete fool of himself, but that had seemed to be his MO when he was younger. 

When he was younger, Stiles was an idiot. He wouldn’t even attempt to deny that.

But Stiles was a solid nineteen-years-old now and although he never would have seen himself staying in Beacon Hills after high school, he could always follow Scott’s example and claim it to be ‘werewolf stuff.’ Even if he wasn’t a werewolf. Even though he probably could have turned his back on it all whenever he wanted without anyone ever giving him too hard of a time.

But then Stiles could also say Derek had made him stay. Derek Hale and his red eyes. Derek Hale and his grumpy growls that Stiles was totally not head of heels for, thank you very much.

He could even say it was his father, even though Stiles was pretty sure his dad would love to see him a couple thousand miles from this Hellmouth. The point is, Stiles could make up a lot of excuses. But where had he been again?

Oh yeah. His newly understood sexuality and the local Beacon Hills gay club.

Stiles hadn’t planned on going out, he really hadn’t. But then Scott was busy with Allison, Lydia was busy being a genius in another state, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek was kicking his betas asses during their Friday night training. 

Which, uh, no thanks. He didn’t care that Derek offered out the loft to whoever wanted to crash there, Stiles had better things to do than watch shirtless werewolves run around and get beaten up by a man twice their size and much more dangerous to Stiles’s certain… lower regions.

So, when a smirking Jackson had offered an invitation out, did Stiles really have anything better to do? Other than chill in his dorm room that is, wondering when Scott would end up coming back before the night ended. But part of him knew that probably wouldn’t happen until tomorrow. Or, if Stiles was really unlucky, he’d be alone all the way until the weekend ended.

But still, some part of his brain said; it was Jackson. And a couple of years ago, Stiles would have very impolitely said ‘fuck you’, thank you very much.

But this wasn’t a few years ago. And Stiles could agree now that yeah, Jackson wasn’t the complete douchebag that he used to be. And when he was actually tolerating Stiles’s presence, they sometimes got along. 

Sometimes. Stiles was hoping tonight would be one of those nights.

Because he was bored, dammit.

The last time he’d been clubbing was— when was the last time he’d been clubbing? It seemed like the pack was sidetracked every other day with the new monster of the week and Stiles never had any time to himself anymore. He sorely regretted telling Derek his dorm number because the Alpha showed up multiple times each week now, scaring the shit out of Stiles’s floor every time.

His RA wouldn’t even talk to him anymore. But could Stiles really blame the guy? Joe had come by the dorm room once and Derek had nearly gone feral Alpha werewolf on the poor guy.

If Stiles thought about it, Derek tended to nearly go feral Alpha werewolf on anyone that dared get too close to him. But yeah, Stiles didn’t really spend too much thinking about it. Mostly because somehow, Derek had managed to keep the exciting parts of Stiles’s life dry both inside and outside of pack life.

It was like he was werewolf married or something. Just without the perks.

Married to the pack, maybe?

“Hey, Stilinski, where the hell is your head at tonight?”

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts and gave Jackson a startled look. The beta was sitting in his desk chair and scowling, all decked out to be hitting the club. Stiles didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but his Chemistry book was still open in his lap and he was pretty sure he didn’t remember letting Jackson into his room.

Stiles stared at him for another long moment. Jackson scowled and waved a hand through the air.

“Uh, Stilinski? Earth to the idiot?

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled, slapping his book shut. He tossed it off of his bed and Jackson caught it with a curse, but there was a definite smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. Stiles all but fell off his bunk bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, grabbing the closest pile of clothes that he was pretty sure didn’t smell too terrible.

But then Jackson was there, eyes flashing blue as he yanked them away. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Are you serious, dude? Those are like, my cleanest clothes.”

“I know. That’s why I brought an outfit.”

Stiles scowled at the beta and considered denying him just to see how snarly Jackson could get before he gave him. But then, deciding to take the path of least resistance, Stiles took the clothes pushed into his arms and turned back toward the bathroom, stumbling inside. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered. But it was exams week with the end of the semester finally coming up and Stiles had been living off of Red Bull and ramen, dammit. He couldn’t be expected to be put together.

He really needed this night out.

By the time he came out all showered and dressed, Jackson gave him a sweeping look and then actually look satisfied. Stiles just flipped him the bird, grabbing his keys and wallet off his desk before heading out of his dorm room without waiting for the beta.

He wasn’t doing this for Jackson. But it might mess with Scott a little if he came back early and maybe Stiles was kind of hoping for that.

Or at least he could get so wasted that he’d forget the fact that he’d probably failed his Anthropology final two days ago. But the exam had been hard, okay? Stiles had studied; he had.

Jackson smacked him upside the head when they reached the jeep and told him to stop thinking so hard. Stiles just glared at the beta again.

The last time he’d been clubbing— the last time he’d been clubbing? Stiles was pretty sure it had been with Danny when he was newly eighteen, a few months before the teenager had hightailed it out of Beacon Hills and all the horrors that the town held.

If Stiles had been smart, he probably would’ve followed.

But Stiles wasn’t smart. Not in certain areas at certain times, at least. Which might have been how he was ducking into the local gay club at twelve o’clock on a Friday night, counting down the minutes until Jackson inevitably ditched him. 

Tonight took a little longer than usual. But by the time Stiles had been hanging around the bar counter for going on ten minutes, Jackson just gave him a disappointed look and ducked away.

Stiles shrugged and turned back to his rum and coke.

He didn’t say alone for long, though.

“Your friend told me to introduce myself,” a new voice said, not long after Stiles had worked his way through his second drink. And Stiles really should have expected this.

The guy dropped onto the stool at Stiles’s side and he raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways to take in the dark brown hair that came with a Jackson-approved chiseled face. Still, Stiles shot a glance across the dance floor to see Jackson give him a blue-eyed look, arms thrown around the neck of some other stranger.

Forcing himself not to sigh, Stiles turned back toward the guy.

He could look at him without envisioning dark stubble or grey-green eyes, which Stiles always considered a win. He’d never admit that out loud, but Derek had totally ruined standards for him. Except, Stiles wasn’t pining. Totally not.

He was not pining.

“My name’s Vic,” the guy said, offering out a hand. And of course, it was. Stiles could have survived this night with just a bit of drinking and maybe some wallowing in the bar nuts. But then again, Jackson might never invite him out again.

“I’m Stiles.”

“Your friend already told me.”

“Oh?” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that all you’ve heard about me so far?”

“He said you like to dance.”

Sometimes, Stiles really hated Jackson. Had he been a stupid seventeen-year-old again, he totally would have thought this was a prank. But he didn’t need to glance over to see Jackson’s threatening looks, slowly letting himself get pulled up.

The bartender’s look was all too knowing. Stiles slapped a ten onto the counter and let himself get tugged out onto the dance floor.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he had the appropriate buzz for this yet. But then he was surrounded by sweaty bodies and the lights overhead were a little more than blinding. If Stiles concentrated hard enough, the music could be dulled to a thrumming in the background and Vic’s eyes almost seemed to reflect a little bit of green in the overhead lights. Stiles was pretty sure that was all in his own head though, because he was pretty sure the guy’s eyes had been dark brown earlier. But he was allowed to imagine a little, wasn’t he?

Then there were fingertips brushing over the back of his neck and Stiles glanced back to see Jackson. Sweat shone on his forehead and a wicked smirk played along his lips. The beta jerked his chin toward Vic and at some point between song one and song two, Stiles had gone from Jackson pressing up against his back to Vic grinding down against his front. 

Now, this was a much easier way of getting his brain to shut up, Stiles had to admit. With fingers tracing over the back of his neck, Vic dragged a hand through his hair and pulled Stiles toward the crook of his neck with his free hand. Stiles could completely forget about his possible failed exam or complete lack of a roommate right now.

Or Derek. Freaking Derek Hale.

Screw Derek Hale.

Like he could read his spinning thoughts, Vic’s hand tightened in his hair and guided Stiles’s lips up his neck and toward his own. And yeah, Stiles was no stranger to kissing. He’d gone a solid four months with Lydia before her college enrollment took her elsewhere. And he’d tried his hand at hook-ups once upon a time. Though, he’d never really made it past imagining what could be something else.

Something more.

But Stiles wasn’t a lovestruck girl, dammit.

Except then there were warm lips against his own, a tongue prodding into his mouth, and Stiles yanked sharply back. Vic gave him a slightly wounded look and Stiles would have mumbled a series of apologies if he remembered how to string words together. Instead, he just raised a hand and stumbled back, before turning around and fleeing the dance floor altogether.

And what had he been saying earlier? This was the night that he needed out. To get wasted, to forget about everything else.

But Stiles was just wanted to go back to his dark, empty dorm right now.

He thumbed out his phone and went scrawling for Jackson’s name, but then there was a sudden hand on the neckline of his t-shirt. Stiles squeaked as he was yanked sideways and shoved against the nearest wall. For a moment, panic crashed over him and Stiles jabbed his elbow out as hard as he could; but then the returned grunt of pain made him freeze.

“D- Derek?”

The Alpha was bent over a little, growling underneath his breath. Then red eyes snapped up and Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as he went to retreat back even more. Except there was nowhere else to go. The cement of the wall was at his back and Derek slowly straightened, red eyes searching Stiles up and down.

Then the man leaned forward, inhaling deep, and his fangs promptly slid down. Stiles yelped, clapping both hands over Derek’s face, and the man growled from behind them.

“Derek, dude, put those away! We’re in public!”

But Derek was sounding a bit like an actual wolf now, so Stiles just guided him toward the nearest exit, hands still covering Derek’s face. He shoved the door and the moment they were out in the night, Stiles yanked back like he’d been burned. Derek’s eyes were still bright red.

Stiles’s breaths hitched. He batted at Derek’s face, earning another growl. “Derek, you damn asshole. Put those away!”

“What the hell happened in there?”

For a moment, all Stiles could do was stare in confusion. But Derek looked a little bit peeved, a little bit frustrated, and a little bit… hurt? And slowly, the pieces slipped together.

Stiles huffed, despite the way his stomach flipped. “Dude, that’s so creepy, oh my god. Could you try not sniffing out all my recent activities for once? What the hell are you doing here anyway? I thought you trained the betas on Fridays?”

“I do,” Derek said gruffly. “That ended two hours ago. I went by your dorm but it was empty.”

“So you… came here?”

“I was worried.”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he chuckled and tried to flick at the man’s nose, but Derek just ducked away. Stiles blinked at him then, tilting his head. 

“Dude, what’s up?”

“You smell bad,” Derek said, eyes flickering. “You smell wrong.”

Okay, first of all, Stiles had taken a shower before he’d come here. And second of all— “That’s none your business, Sourwolf.”

Derek drew back, the red fading from his eyes. But instead of looking peeved, angry, or even a little unhappy, he just looked stricken. Like the very fact that Stiles was walking around smelling like someone else was physically painful to him.

And okay, but it wasn’t like Stiles always smelled like himself, alright? He was surrounded by strangers every day.

“Derek, dude, I really don’t know what you wan—”

“Stiles, please.”

Stiles froze, his stomach flipping again. But that seemed to be enough of an answer for Derek because he moved forward again. The man’s nose traced along his collarbone, scenting fingers danced along the back of his neck, and Derek pressed his entire face into the crook of Stiles’s neck as if it was a life or death situation.

Stiles just… well, he just froze. His brain was moving slowly and he knew for a fact that he hadn’t drunk enough to blame this all on the alcohol.

But then slowly, like puzzle pieces, one thing clicked with another. And then Stiles yanked back so hard, he smacked his head against the wall and bit his tongue in the process. Derek whined at the loss of contact, Stiles tasted blood, and then the man was giving him a hurt look. But Stiles’s brain was lingering on one thing right now. 

“Oh my god. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

In a second, Derek’s stance was guarded. He started to draw back a few inches and the action looked physically painful. The man looked like he wanted to attack Stiles’s neck all over again, but instead, he just folded his arms over his chest and lowered his gaze. 

“I’m not jealous.”

“You are so totally jealous!”

Once more, the red eyes were snapping up and Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat. Carefully, he stepped forward, uncrossing Derek’s arms, and the man whined again.

“Derek, what do I smell like?”

“Wrong.”

“Yes, but what do I smell like?”

“Not… mine.”

Derek was glaring at the ground again as he said those words. Stiles’s heartbeat stuttered and then Derek was growling. Stiles risked once more step closer. Derek searched his face, almost looking vulnerable.

“Stiles, don’t do this if it's not re—”

“Dude.”

Grey-green eyes flickered in and out of red as Derek clamped his mouth shut. Stiles could still hear the steady thrum of music from the club and the sound of voices from a little way down the alleyway. But he kept his gaze on Derek’s face, nodding carefully. 

"You can change that."

Then he was being crowded against the wall once more.

Stiles couldn’t help but squeak as sharp fangs moved up his neck. They nipped gently underneath his jaw and then traveled back down. But when Derek bit the spot between his shoulder and neck, it was all human teeth. Fingers traced over the back of Stiles’s neck again and Derek growled lightly, sucking marks all the way back up to the underside of Stiles’s chin.

He was so going to be swearing scarves for the rest of the week.

Or… maybe not.

Scott was probably going to flip out. Stiles might have grinned a little bit at that realization.

Then Stiles had lost all contact of the man and he totally didn’t whine at that. Derek moved back a few inches, studying his face, and then his eyes dropped to Stiles’s lips.

“Stiles, can I—”

“Oh my god, kiss me you furry asshole.”

And Jackson was never getting credit for this, ever. Stiles would like to say that he hadn’t come to the Jungle tonight expecting for Derek Hale of all people to show up. But if he’d know this is what would finally do it, he might have had come a long time again.

Derek kissed him softer than he had before. The hand cupping Stiles’s neck moved up to card through his hair and every time Stiles hummed in agreement at a movement, the man growled at the back of his throat. He tasted like mint, smelled like leather and pine, and Stiles totally hadn't imagined this before. He wasn’t a pining school girl, dammit.

But… but Derek kissed exactly like he’d always thought. Though that wasn’t a thing.

Except maybe it was now.

Stiles probably could have stayed there making out with Derek literal Hale all night except suddenly, the doors they ducked out of were banging open. Stiles yelped and pinwheeled back into the wall as Jackson came charging out, snarling and blue-eyed.

But one flash of Derek’s red eyes had the beta curling back into himself. His startled expression snapped from Derek, to Stiles, and back. Then Jackson drew himself up, a wicked smirk curling across his lips, and Stiles knew he was never living this down.

“Oh my god, Stilinski. You so totally owe me.”

“Jackson, get your furry little ass out of here or I swear to god—”

The beta didn’t need to be told twice, apparently. Whether it was from Stiles’s threats, Derek’s growling, or just his sense of self-preservation (did he have one?), because he only smirked one more time before backing away. And then Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as Derek glanced at him again.

And suddenly, he felt nervous. But why did he feel nervous?

“So, Sourwolf…”

“Is all of this okay, Stiles?”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head, moving forward and catching the man’s lips again. Because of course, he had to be in love with this idiot. Except... he kind of liked the way Derek growled at the sharp kiss. He kind of loved the way the man shivered against him and Stiles had caused that. 

Stiles nipped at his lower lip and then drew back with a grin. “I dunno, dude. Care to tell me what I smell like right now?”

Once more, sharp fangs skated down his neck and Derek Hale had totally ruined standards for Stiles. Now and forever. They paused against the bottom of his neck, warm breaths against his skin, and then Derek’s lips curved into a smile as Stiles whined.

“You smell like mine .”

And hell yeah, Stiles could totally be okay with that.

- -

I hope I did this prompt justice! I don't write jealous Derek very often so this was kind of new, but I had fun with it! Thank you so much for the prompt, Khale ma’am <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[flowesona]

The Hierophant - Yandere! Namjoon x reader

The Tarot Series

“He’s one of the best in the country. Trust me, (Y/N), you have to go to every lecture, even if you don’t want to.” The girl beside (Y/N) rattled on, only stopping every once in a while to take a sip of her Red Bull.

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll gladly take your place, you know.” Her friend continued. “I swear, he’s like… perfect. Gorgeous, smart, rich… I would gladly hop on that, ya know?”

“Oh come on, don’t degrade yourself like that. He’s going to be some musty professor that’ll talk about Sigmund Freud for far too long then set us three chapters to read for tomorrow.” (Y/N) was dreading meeting her new psychology lecturer, no matter how enticing the ideas her friend was feeding to her may be. 

“If you say so. But you better run now, or you’ll be late.” Her heart dropped when she checked her watch, seeing as she had two minutes to get to a classroom four minutes away. 

In a matter of seconds she gathered all of her leftover lunch together and shoved it in her bag, not even sparing a moment to say goodbye to her friend before dashing off, heart pounding as she ran.

Just as the clock-hands of her watch hit one-thirty, she made it to the classroom, swinging open the door and making her way to the first available seat her eyes landed on, which just so happened to be in the aisle on the first row.

However, once she’d dumped all her bags at her feet, she found that the professor wasn’t there. All of the students were just talking amongst themselves.

“Today was the one day that it’s okay to be late.” The guy next to her chuckled, watching her catch her breath. “What kind of example is he setting for us?”

(Y/N) chuckled breathily, but as if like magic a tall, lean man entered the room, a pile of books and papers stacked on top of each other impressively.

“Good afternoon.” His deep voice reverberated around the room, immediately silencing all the small murmurs. “I apologise for not being punctual, but I had to help one of our more senior members of staff find her keys.”

Kim Namjoon was far from the crumpled old man she’d expected him to be. His face didn’t show a single sign of ageing, despite him having an aura of maturity and expertise that put him high above every other person in the room. His face was neatly combed out of his face, his black rimmed glasses were stylish and perfectly clean. He was the epitome of a perfect man, if such a person could exist.

He smirked seeing the stunned expression on his students’ faces.

“I’m sure that you had very different first impressions of me. But I would like you to hold back until you know more about me. I hope that we can all develop a good relationship.” As he spoke, his eyes drifted across the room, until they met with (Y/N)’s own curious eyes, with something unreadable in his eyes that sent a shiver down (Y/N)’s spine.

Once he’d started the lecture, (Y/N) felt as if she was in another country. The technical way he spoke, his hypnotising good looks. It felt impossible to keep up with him, and before she knew it everyone was packing away their notes. She was stunned for a few seconds but followed suit, unfortunately ending up as the last person in the classroom besides the professor.

“What’s your name?” (Y/N) jumped when she noticed Namjoon in front of her, his large hands resting on the desk.

“(Y/N).” She replied quickly, standing up and ducking her head so she didn’t have to make eye contact.

“(Y/N), if you don’t mind me saying, you seemed to be quite unfocused for the majority of the time. If you need me to slow down my talking pace for you, you just need to ask.” The young woman felt her face flare up in anger at his patronisation. Sure, what he was saying was true, but there was no need to talk to her as if she was unique. Surely the other students were struggling to concentrate as well?

She chose not to respond, slinging her book bag over her shoulder and leaving without a goodbye, determined to study as hard as she could and prove him wrong.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

Yet no matter how many hours she spent pouring over textbooks, podcasts, any kind of material she could get her hands on, none of it seemed to work for her. In a moment of desperation she’d downloaded a few of the books written by Kim Namjoon himself, only to give up a few chapters in due to the overly sophisticated language that made every sentence feel like a chore to read. 

(Y/N)’s severe lack of understanding was reflected in her grades. Constantly failing tests or just barely scraping by for the entire year. It wasn’t until the end of the year that she decided she would have to sacrifice her pride and talk to Namjoon.

She knocked on his door, waiting for him to call out ‘come in’. Sure enough, she heard his voice - a little raspier than usual - invite her to enter.

The inside of his office was different. It looked messier than usual, and the man himself looked slightly ruffled, his tie undone and suit jacket lying on the back of his chair.

“(Y/N)! How can I help?” He asked, sitting up to look slightly more composed than his surroundings.

“Is something wrong, professor?” She asked, concerned about how the usually neat and proper scholar had fallen.

“Oh, it’s… nothing (Y/N). But thank you for your concern. What brings you here, anyway, besides the pleasure of my company?” Namjoon asked, running a hand through his slightly damp hair to smooth it down.

“I think it’s best that I withdraw from this course, professor. I keep on failing the exams and there’s no way for me to catch up and pass this year. I just can’t afford to keep studying a subject I don’t understand.” He sighed. 

“Take a seat for me, (Y/N). We can talk about this.” (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to run, to leave this university and all the pain it had caused her behind, yet she ultimately had no choice but to sit down and shut up.

“So you’re worried about failing? That’s why you want to drop out?” Namjoon queried, brows furrowed as if he was deep in thought.

“Yeah. There’s no point in me paying nine grand a year if I can’t understand what I’m studying.” 

“What if I offer you extra credit? From what I can recall, your exams weren’t too bad so we could probably get you a passing grade.” The scholar offered, reaching for his laptop and opening a spreadsheet with a single click.

“We can get you an extra 5%, which should bring you up to Third if your grades don’t improve in the summer exams. I’ve got a range of topics, and I’ll tutor you on whichever ones you choose when you have free time.” His words could not have been sweeter music to (Y/N)’s ears, knowing that passing was not just a fallacious dream and that she wasn’t a hopeless case.

“Thank you so much Namjoon, I’m really grateful for this opportunity!” She smiled, but before she could leave he spoke again.

“Of course, I don’t have to help you if I don’t want to.” (Y/N) froze as he continued. “This will cost me a lot of my valuable time, and I’m under no obligation to tutor you outside of work.”

“Please…” (Y/N) whispered, tearing up.

“You don’t have to pay me, if that was what you were thinking.” He stood up, approaching her until he had her backed up against the door. “I’d rather you pay me with your company. Tonight, you can come to dinner with me. Just one date, so we can get to know each other more intimately, and I can find out about the student I’m giving up my few spare hours to help. Does that sound good?” 

“This is sexual harassment… if I reported you you’d be at least suspended by the school board…” (Y/N) choked out, trying to appear tough when her insides were jelly from such close contact with Namjoon.

“You can.” He chuckled. “But then you’ll fail and drop out. You don’t really want that, do you darling?”

(Y/N) swallowed and nodded, breathing out as Namjoon stepped away from her.

“Be ready at seven tonight. And wear something nice, darling. Don’t make me regret my offer.”

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

The feeling of Namjoon’s eyes lingering on her figure was bittersweet. She was slightly flattered, but slightly intimidated. This man held her academic career in his hand, and she had to play along with his game if she didn’t want to fail.

‘Maybe it isn’t so bad that he likes you.’ A voice was whispering in the back of her head. ‘He’s “gorgeous, rich, smart”... right?’

She glanced over at Namjoon, immediately meeting his eyes. His hand settled itself on her exposed thigh, the cool metal of his rings contrasting with her warm skin. It stayed there until the taxi pulled up outside some esteemed restaurant, Namjoon pulling out his wallet to pay the driver and telling him to keep the change as he helped (Y/N) out.

She felt slightly awkward as he led her in and asked their water about the booth reservation, feeling the judging eyes of people around her. No doubt criticising her for going on a date with an older man. They were already labelling her as a gold digger, a whore. 

“Don’t look at everyone else.” She jumped slightly when she heard Namjoon whisper in her ear. “Just keep your eyes on me, darling.”

Namjoon was clearly more comfortable in this environment than (Y/N). Easily pronouncing the name of some expensive Italian wine for them, along with a dish that she’d never heard of for them both.

But (Y/N) followed his advice, and just kept looking at him as he poured two glasses from the graft of wine, observing the slight bob of his Adam’s apple of he drank from his own glass.

“(Y/N), you should try some.” He indicated towards her glass. 

“I-I don’t drink.” She said, but after a few moments of awkward silence, she decided to take a sip. 

She hated the taste, but refused to show it on her face, giving him a small smile before setting down the glass.

“Now, (Y/N). Tell me why you decided to take Psychology when you don’t understand the subject?” Namjoon asked. 

“I just want to understand people. I thought maybe if I understand why people are the way they are, I can help them.” She explained, taking another sip from her wine. Now that her tongue had adjusted to the bitter palette, she was pleasantly surprised by the taste. 

“I see. Not many people take the subject for such a noble cause.” He commented. “Most of my students take it since they want to learn about serial killers or social experiments.”

“And why did you choose psychology as your profession?” (Y/N) retorted.

“There’s something about it that spoke to me. Jungian ideas on how we present ourselves - our persona - versus who we really are - our anima, if you will. I feel like there’s more to a person like you, (Y/N), and I want to see that.” The young woman felt like her head was spinning, from the lights all around her to the alcohol in her system.

“I’m sorry, I need to go to the bathroom. Where is it?” 

“Just through that door.” Namjoon smiled watching her walk off. It was so fascinating to talk to her one-to-one. Her mind was something that wasn’t quite captured on her social media, no matter how many hours he spent pouring over her Facebook or Instagram, desperate to see who she really was, and why she drew him in like a magnet. But now, being in a more private environment with her and seeing her real self rather than what she presented online, Namjoon felt that she was even more enticing than before. Of course, he’d jumped at the opportunity to privately tutor her, but he had an idea for things to be more permanent. He didn’t want to just be her quick fix, he wanted to be her everything.

And so, with a glance to make sure no waiters were going to enter, he pulled a small vial out of his pocket, tapping its contents into (Y/N)’s water glass. It wasn’t a particularly strong drug, nor was it fast acting. He would be able to enjoy the rest of their night, and then by the end she would be his.

“Sorry. I don’t think I’m good with alcohol.” (Y/N) gave him a weak smile as she slid back into her seat.

“Don’t worry about it, Darling. Just have some water, okay?” Namjoon said smoothly, as she gave him a gracious nod. As the meal progressed, however, (Y/N) felt her headache getting worse and worse.

“Namjoon, this has been a lovely evening and all, but I need to go home. My head is killing me and I need some ibuprofen.” (Y/N) groaned after they’d finished their desserts.

“Of course. Let me pay the bill and then I can take you home.” Her professor said, rubbing a hand on her back to soothe her as he beckoned their server over.

Just as Namjoon was helping her into the car, (Y/N) felt her mind slip away, collapsing onto the seat.

Namjoon simply explained to the driver that she was unwell, sitting her upright and giving him the address to his own house. The driver didn’t question anything, although with the slight twitch of his lip it was clear how he saw (Y/N), as some rich man’s whore who’d had too much to drink. 

Evidently, (Y/N)’s image was nothing compared to her professor, and she still had much to learn on how he worked. Luckily, he was more than happy to teach her, to train her mind, for his own, more personal price.

[bakubabes-tatakae]

The Man With The Shadows

Author’s Note: If anyone wants to be in a taglist for this feel free to let me know! Happy to do it for anyone!

(Yami Sukehiro x Reader)

Summary: Yami has his hands full with the Black Bulls. Y/N might be a member of the Silva house, but she was disowned for being in love with a commoner. Together they lead this band of misfits, one chaos driven mission at a time.

AO3 Link

Part One:

Word Count: 2,090

It was a normal day in the Black Bulls hideout. Pandamonieum was always afoot, there was never a dull moment in this place. Magna and Luck flew about the place, fireballs bounced off furniture, lighting strikes left marks on the floors. Charmy sat at her usual table, enjoying some delectable snacks made by her sheep cooks. Gauche sat at another table, admiring a picture of the adorable Marie, something we all thought odd, but we let it happen anyway. Vanessa laid on the couch, still hungover from the night before. Everyone was just the same as they always were, just a little more intensified with the Captain not here to supervise. 

Yami Sukehiro, the Captain of the Black Bulls, was out at the entrance exams for the Magic Knights, looking for some fresh meat to bring home to us. When Yami was away I was in charge, something that I tried my best at, but the luck just wasn’t there. You would think that being the girlfriend of the big, bad, Yami Sukehiro, would at least strike some fear in them, but these jokers didn’t seem to have a fearful bone in their body. They all knew that when Yami returned and saw the place in shambles they were all in for it. 

When the doors opened nobody but I seemed to notice. A young boy with ash blonde hair pushed it open and stood in front of us. “I’m the newest member of this squad, fresh from Hage village.” A fireball from Magna that was just hit back toward him by Luck began careening toward the boy. As he began to speak again the fireball hit as his feet, sending him flying out the door as he hollered his next words. “I’m Asta!” He name began to echo as he got farther from the door. I cringed as I saw Yami’s figure start to appear. 

The rest of the squad hadn’t even noticed. Magna was screaming at Luck again. “Okay, now I’m really mad. Are you ready to take me on!?” 

Luck was jumping away from him. “Nope, not really, but lets go!” 

Fireballs started to fly everywhere again. I face palmed and looked around at them all. Vanessa was starting to awake next to me. She sat up a little and smiled at me. “Hey baby girl.” 

I smiled at her and laughed. “How’s your head feel?”

She groaned. “Why is it so loud in here? I should have skipped those extra drinks. My head is killing me.”

Gauche was getting agitated really fast. I could see it in his body posture. Finally he exploded, turning to face the two fighting in the common area. “Enough! Shut up damn you!”

The young boy hollered again, trying to get everyone’s attention. “I’m Asta from Hage village! I’m a Black Bull now too. Some day, I’m gonna become the Wizard King!”

I watched him and glanced at Yami, giving him an apologetic smile. Yami took a drag from his cigarette and shrugged at me. 

Gauche was getting angrier by the second and so was I. He exploded for a second time before I could even get a word out. “Come on, give it a rest you idiots! You’re going to wake up my sister with all the noise you’re making! DAMN IT!” 

Vanessa’s hangover was just making her grumpy. “Get over it you freaky sister lover!”

I slapped her arm. “What the hell happened to you?”

She scratched the back of her head. “I remember getting into a drinking contest with some guy, but after that…” She smiled at me and laid against my shoulder. “Will you please shut up!” She hollered at the two that were destroying the hideout. “I’ve got the mother of all headaches.”

Magna stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “That’s your own problem you drunk!”

Vanessa and I stood up quickly, the three of us got right into each other’s face. Vanessa was seeing red. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

I pointed at him. “At least she’s not a virgin street punk!”

“Virgin street punk, where do you get off calling me that?”

Luck flew over to where we were. “Better be careful,” He spoke to Magna. “Get distracted and I’ll get you.”

Magna’s short attention span once again got the best of him. He turned and started toward Luck. “Oh yea, then come here and give it your best shot.

I groaned loudly and walked away, headed toward Yami. More chaos went on behind us as I got to him. He wrapped one arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. Our height difference made it a perfect opportunity for him. I looked up at him and gave him the same apologetic smile from before. “I tried to keep them in line, but you know how they are.”

Yami chuckled. “Don’t worry about it princess.” Princess was my name when he knew we were the only two to hear it. Finally, Yami had had enough. The power of his magic radiated off of him, a shade of purple surrounded his body. “Alright, I’ve had enough.” He took his arm off my shoulder and before I could object to him doing it, his fist hit the wall beside us as hard as he could. “Quit breaking stuff already!!” The wall collapsed a lot more around where Magna had sent a fireball through the door. 

Asta was in shock. “Oh man, now it’s way broken.”

Everyone finally turned around, finally noticing that Yami had come back. The group all came running toward us, all talking to Yami at once. Magna fought his way to the front. “How was it? Did you find us an arrogant newbie? I can take him down notch if you want.”

Luck shoved Magna’s face and moved him to the side. “Please sir, can I go against you today?” He began to punch the air. “Come on, don’t hold back. 

Vanessa grabbed my arm and pulled me into her, shoving herself in front of Yami. ��Now, now, forget all about these little brats. Wouldn’t you rather come out for a drink with us?”

Charmy sat patiently, waiting for Yami to look over at her. “Hey, hey, try this.” She held a cupcake out to him. “It’s really good. Take a big bite, go on.”

Gauche was impatient as usual. “I’m sorry, I can’t take it anymore, may I please go see my sister?”

Yami laughed at them all and grabbed my arm, stealing me back like Vanessa had from him. “Yea, yea, glad to know how much you all missed me.” He took another drag from his cigarette. “Now shut up, will ya?”

They all sat down at once on the floor, like obedient little dogs. They spoke together. “Sorry sir.”

“I’d like you all to meet our new…” Yami looked around. “Huh? Where’d he go?”

We all looked over when we heard the faint talking of a young boy. Asta was underneath Grey, whom was in her form of a giant man. “Please help me. I can’t breath.” Asta was reaching out for us. 

Instead of helping him Yami got frustrated. “Quit messing around!” Grey stood up and Asta made his way over to us, standing next to me since Finral stood on the other side of Yami. “Now, as I was saying, this shrimp here is our other new member.”

Asta looked over at him. “What do you mean other?”

Yami ignored him. “Go on, tell them your name or something.”

“Yes sir. My name’s Asta from Hage Village. It’s really nice to meet everyone.” 

Everyone was quiet for a second, until Magna broke the silence. “You’re from Hage? That’s out in the middle of nowhere.”

Yami looked to his left. “Finral, introduce everyone, would you?”

Finral looked at the group in front of him. “Sure thing sir. Let’s see, where to start.” He looked to his left. “You know Gordon Agrippa. Not always the easiest guy to talk to, but he’s good people.” Finral moved on. Next he stood in front of the pink haired witch. “Next we have Vanessa Enoteca. Tends to pick fights when she’s drunk, but she’s good people.” 

Vanessa glared at Finral. “Picking fights? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked over at Asta. “Hage village, way off on the outskirts of the kingdom?”

Asta smiled. “Yea!” 

Vanessa got close to Asta and he blushed and looked shocked. “To make your way from a little back water village like that to a Magic Knight Squad, you must have worked so hard. Nice kiddo. How about I give you something as a reward, huh?” Before she could say another word Vanessa threw up on the floor in front of her.

I turned and hid my face in Yami’s shoulder, trying not to let her see me laugh at her expense. Finral continued, not even acknowledging Vanessa anymore. “Alright, let’s continue, shall we?” 

Luck stood up in front of the two of them as Vanessa threw up again. “Hey, do me next!”

“Luck Voltia, a battle freak who’s addicted to fighting, but he’s good people.”

“Nice meeting you.” Luck smiled. “So hey, do you like to fight?”

“Uh, sure.” Asta didn’t seem to confident in his answer. 

“Yea?! That’s cool. I love it.” Luck punched the air again. “What do you say? Wanna go?”

“Well, uh…” Before Asta could finish speaking Gaucha stepped up to him. 

Gauche held out a sister of Marie in front of his face. “Hey, see her?” Asta was confused now. “This is my sister Marie. She’s an angel.”

“Yea?”

“Listen, if you lay a finger on her, then you die.”

Asta yelped a little and Finral interrupted. “Gauch Adlai, loves his sister a tad too much, but he’s good people.” Finral pointed toward Charmy. “This here is Charmy Pappitson, a big eater, but she’s good people.”

She raised her arm while eating a muffin. “Nice to meet ya!”

“And this is Grey, I don’t really get him, but he’s good people.” They walked over to Magna. “Then there’s Magna Swing, a street punk, but he’s good people.” He pointed to himself. “And I am Finral Roulacase. Lady Killer.” 

I stepped forward a little and smiled, interjecting. “But he’s good people.” Asta turned to me and smiled a little, chuckling. 

Finral’s eyes flattened some. He knew I was mocking him. He put his arm out toward Yami and I. “And finally, we have the Black Bulls fearless leaders. Co-Captain Y/N Silva and the great Captain Yami Sukehiro.” 

Yami took a drag of his cigarette and wrapped his free arm around my shoulder again. “There are other members, but they’re either on missions, or on leave, or… I don’t know…” He smiled at Asta. “Think you can play nice newbie?”

“Yes sir! We’re gonna get along so well! Like I said before, IT’S REALLY NICE TO MEET YOU GUYS!”

Vanessa stood up and walked over to me, leaning into my arm. “My god, is he trying to kill me?”

Yami chuckled. “That’s something I didn’t notice before, you’re as loud as you are short, aren’t you?”

“Yea!” 

“Shut up.” Yami turned and looked at him menacingly. “Alright, let’s go. Give him a good workout, but don’t kill him.”

Magna was the first person to stand up. “Did you hear him? Yami wasn’t us to make sure you get a good workout.” Magna had a diabolic look on his face. “That’s just what I’m gonna do.” He crossed his arms. “A pathetic runt like you? And from where? Hage? A village almost no one had ever heard of before. Not much mana either. And you’re the newest member of the Black Bulls? You gotta be kidding me? I don’t know what some magic poor hick like you could have possibly done to impress Yami. Do you wanna wear the robe that will prove you’re a member of the Black Bulls?” 

Asta was like a starving animal, he reached for the robe. “Yea, I do, gimmie, gimmie!”

“Wow, you’re really excited. You want it that bad? Okay, but first you need to earn the approval of Yami’s chief subordinate, me, man among men, Magna Swing. This marks your entry to the black bulls. A true baptism by fire.” 

I looked over at Yami, hoping he would stop Magna, Magna had never been one to go easy on people. Yami smiled and kissed the side of my head. “Don’t worry Y/N. Everything will be fine.”

Updated: 5/13/2020

[one-leaf-grimoire]

Three Leafed Chaos

Chapter 2/4

Warning: dick jokes

The next week or so went by without any major events. However, everyone had a goal in their mind: to win the heart of their crush on Three-Leaf day. Included among that group, it turns out, was every Magic Knights Squad captain. No one was prepared for the conflict that was to erupt. 

"Well, that's it for our meeting! Please check out the evaluation report that's in those folders, there's plenty of suggestions for all of you!" Julius clapped his hands together as he stood up. The Captains were all gathered there for a meeting, about a week after the evaluations. "Remember, the new member exam is in just a month. Use this time to strengthen your positions! Or, er-" He sent a not-so-subtle glance at Yami. "Use it as a... fresh start!"

Fresh start? This geezer really has the nerve to lecture us after he was 15 minutes late to the meeting? However, Yami knew he probably deserved it, after the debacle last week. He still felt bad about what happened to the Evaluator he was entrusted with, but all he could do now was take her advice to heart and make his squad better... somehow. He did ask Julius about her right before the meeting truly began. "Oh, yeah, she's fine! She had quite the hangover the next day, but she's been out and about ever since."

"Alright, who wants to go get a drink? One of the rich boys is paying," Yami said, standing up after Julius left.

"Ka ka! Yami, you're such a freeloader," Jack hissed with his usual wide smirk. "To be expected of a foreigner."

"Hey, you'll be taking advantage of it too, commoner."

"Silence! We will be paying for our own drinks, and no one else's," Nozel snapped, standing up and flipping his feathered cloak dramatically.

With that, the nine of them headed down to their usual spot, a bar in the castle down. Everyone ordered drinks and started to lounge around, as they were the only ones in the bar at this time of night. However, after a few drinks, Yami started to notice that something was up with William, the Captain of the Golden Dawn. "Yo, masked weirdo, what's the matter? You look all gloomy." He snickered as an idea came to him. "I got it! Your evaluation was bad, right?"

William narrowed his eyes, but gulped nervously. "No... in fact, my evaluation was perfect." 

"Eh?" Now Jack was interested, too. "What's the matter then? Ooh, I have an idea~" He giggled, already a little tipsy. "You have a crush on someone, right?"

"Huh? No! No way." However, they could all tell the man was bright red, even with the mask on. "Well, I mean- i-it's none of your businesses."

Nozel and Fuegoleon turned to look at him, concerned that the usually cool-headed man was getting flustered. "Oh? Have you finally found a Lady Vangeance?"

William didn't respond, just stared at his drink silently.

"Eh. Whatever." Yami took another sip before glancing around at everyone. Fuegoleon and Nozel were sitting by the bar, which was being tended by the usual old man. Gueldre was oddly silent tonight, but had a satisfied look on his face. Charlotte, Rill, and Dorothy were sitting together at a table. Dorothy was asleep, Rill was furiously drawing something in a sketchbook, and Charlotte kept stealing glances at Yami. Huh... their minds are all miles away, Yami thought to himself. For some reason, his mind drifted to the memory of that Evaluator's smiling face, and felt his heart start to clench again. I want to see her again... but in the meantime, I feel the need to talk about her to someone. He cleared his throat. "So... what did you guys think of that Evaluator?"

As soon as the sentence passed his lips, Yami felt everyone's Ki tense up. What the Hell? Did they all get bad evaluations?

"She was... interesting." Fuegoleon was the first to speak. "She assisted us on a mission. Her magic is actually quite powerful. It's not hard to see why she stands beside the Wizard King."

"... I thought the same," Nozel suddenly said. Yami raised an eyebrow. Nozel was actually complimenting someone? "She was very confident in her job."

"She was a delight, yes," Charlotte said quietly. "I wish she would join my squad."

"Oh! That Evaluator! She was wonderful!" Everyone jumped out of their skins as Dorothy's eyes suddenly popped open and she jumped out of her seat.

"Ah! What in the Hell, you can talk?" Yami and Jack chorused together.

Dorothy giggled and gave them a peace sign. "Uh huh! That girl was so sweet! Kirsch loved her, too. She's very cute... me and her are kindred spirits. In fact..." Dorothy giggled again, a light blush on her cheeks. "I'm thinking of getting her a present for Three Leaf Day."

All at once, the remaining 8 captains jumped to their feet.

"NO! You can't!"

Everyone regretted the instinctual reaction as soon as it happened. They froze and looked around at each other, realization dawning simultaneously.

"Whoa, whoa, why did we all get so defensive all the sudden?" Yami asked, pointing around accusingly. "Don't tell me..." He suddenly started laughing. "Do we all want to give the same person a gift on Three Leaf Day?!"

"Tch." Nozel scowled. "As if I would ever give a gift to someone so many ranks below me..." However, his blush betrayed him.

"Wait! That can't be true, William also stood up," Fuegoleon exclaimed. "William, don't you already like someone?"

William winced. "I... I do... and that someone is her." 

"I can't believe this! All you disgusting men, lusting over such an innocent girl!" Charlotte suddenly shouted, glaring at them all.

"Ka ka, Charlotte likes her too?" Jack asked, crossing his arms. "I'll slice you to bits if you touch her!"

"Say, Charlotte, I didn't know you liked girls?" Yami asked, slightly disappointed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised..."

Charlotte flushed pink. "I-I like men, too, you know!"

"Oh? What man do you like?"

"T-t-t-that's none of your business!"

"Wahh!" Rill suddenly started crying. "She was so beautiful and picturesque... I've been drawing her ever since!" He flipped his sketchbook around to reveal a photorealistic drawing of the girl. He captured her cuteness perfectly.

"Well, if we all like her, she'll just have to choose which one of us to return Love to on Three Leaf day, right?" Fuegoleon proposed. Yami laughed. "What? Yami, is this really a laughing matter?"

"Sure is! None of you losers stand a chance against me!" he told them brashly.

"Ah, ah, ah... don't be so sure about that." They all looked over at Gueldre, who chuckled. "You see... I'm four steps ahead of you." The large, ham-like man smirked. "I took her on a date."

"WHAT?!?!?"

"How dare you! I was planning to ask soon!" Fuegoleon roared like a lion.

"You can't possibly... she deserves Royalty, not New Money like you!" Nozel added, not even trying to hide it anymore. 

"I told you, she and I are kindred spirits, she's going in my dream world and never coming out," Dorothy threatened.

"Whoa, hold on, tell us about this so called date Ham-man," Yami asked, picking up that he wasn't telling the whole truth.

Gueldre gulped. "Well... you see..." He fiddled with his fingers. "Well, it wasn't so much a date as it was a discussion about the evaluation... hehe... BUT!" He held up a finger before anyone could butt in. "It was over dinner! So it counts as a date!"

Everyone stared at him for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn't a threat. "As I was saying-" Yami turned to the others. "None of you stand a chance against me. Me and that girl... we have a connection."

"Hey! Didn't you hear what I said?" Gueldre was standing his ground. "She deserves a guy like me!"

"Oh yeah? Personally, I think she deserves a little better than Gueldre Poizot Micropenis."

Gueldre and everyone else's mouths fell open at Yami's insult. "Y-y-you heathen!" Gueldre bellowed, balling up his fists. "You have no proof! And anyway, don't talk smack about that unless you've got an even bigger-"

"Gueldre, please." Gueldre felt a hand on  his shoulder and looked down to see William gazing solemnly up at him. "Please don't take that road. That's not a battle you can win."

Everyone gasped at his words. "Ooh! William?!" Dorothy asked, looking concerned. "Wait, how do you know how big Yami's-"

"We were on the same squad back in the day," William cut in before she could go any farther.

Yami nodded, amused. "Yep... The Grey Deer base had some killer baths. Julius said it was great for squad bonding. That's why I had one installed at the Black Bulls base."

"The Grey Deer? Ka ka!" Jack pointed at the two of them. "That's right... you were on the same squad, and Julius was your captain? So, you took baths with him? So, you saw his..." His voice trailed off when he saw how both Yami and William were looking at him. He had never seen Yami look so grim before. Jeez... did I just unlock some sort of tragic memory?

~ Yami and William's tragic memory~

"Yami, you were right, this really is a nice bath." William smiled to himself as he sunk down to his shoulders.

"Of course I was right." Yami looked over at the younger man. They were still both relatively new to the squad. "Say, aren't you going to take that mask off?"

William frowned and shook his head. "No... I'd rather not."

Yami shrugged but chuckled. "Come on... you can't be that ugly."

The other members in the bath laughed at the joke, and William even smiled along with them. "That depends on who you ask."

Even more laughter. Then, there was a voice. "You guys sound like you're having fun! Is there room for one more?"

Yami recognized the voice and looked over at the source. "Captain! Yes, join us."

Julius grinned and gave him a thumbs up before dropping his towel. He stepped down one step into the bath but paused when he realized everyone was staring at him. "...what?"

Yami gulped. "Uh, nothing." William was staring down at the water's surface.

Julius was genuinely confused. "Hmm? Am I bleeding somewhere?"

"No, no, just- er- you should get in the water."

"Ah, right! There's nothing like a good bath."

~ end flashback ~

"ANYWAY, you don't want to finish that sentence," Yami finally finished. "I stand by what I said... none of you stand a chance."

Fuegoleon scowled and clenched his fist resolutely. "That sounds like a challenge..."

"I won't let either of you beat me. I won't allow shame to befall the house of Silva," Nozel added.

"Wah... I'm too young for her anyway," Rill said, more afraid of the large men around him.

"I-I won't let her heart be stolen by a man!" Charlotte demanded.

"..." Gueldre had given up after being humiliated.

"Ke ke! I'll show you freaks what a casanova I really am!" Jack challenged.

Dorothy sighed. "This is getting boring now that you're all involved... I'd rather just sleep."

"...She's obviously got many admirers," William said sadly. "Very well... I'll leave her to one of you." He obviously wasn't happy about it, but hey, what's a man gonna do about it?

"That's it then, the challenge has begun!" Yami announced dramtically. "Three-Leaf day is in a week... a week to win that girl's heart!"

"Ah, if I could cut in real quick-" They all turned in surprise to see the speaker: the elderly bartender. He laughed nervously. "I'm just an old man, but don't you think you're jumping into this way too quickly? I mean..." he chuckled. "Most of you have only met her once, right? Yet, it sounds like you're all in love. How is she supposed to reciprocate feelings for people she doesn't spend time with?"

Yami narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Hmm? Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight, you geezer?"

"Geezer?! Ah, and yes of course... just something to keep in mind." His eyes twinkled as he turned away to keep drying dishes.

"He has a point!" Fuegoleon said. "She's not a magic knight, and she works mostly in the castle. If we don't act quickly, she'll forget about us, or worse, catch the eye of one of the Wizard King's other advisors. We need to take her on dates... that way she'll fall for us, too!"

"I guess..." Yami pointed at them accusingly. "I'll be the first!"

"Oh yeah?"

"I'd like to see you try."

"Ka ka! I'll be the first to take her out!"

And just like that, the four men ran off to start writing letters and arrange a "date." The others staggered home soon after. 

As Charlotte walked home, she couldn't help but smile to herself. I'm a step ahead of them now... she's already coming over for tea tomorrow.

[lostincalum]

Uni! Ben Hardy- pt 2

AN: Hey big shout out to @burncrashbromance​ for proofreading and also requesting part 2! Ah lav u, it turned out longer than expected but I hope at least one person likes it 

Word count: 4,3k(???)

TW: A flaky father and insomnia mentions 

Part 1

When you woke up the next day, you were a little confused. You didn’t quite recognize the room at once, with the light shining through the window, no stars in sight. When you started to twist you were immediately aware of something slightly hard poking your thigh. The heat that rushed to your cheeks didn’t get any better when you felt an arm around your waist, tightening slightly each time you moved. Slowly you turned around to find Ben with his eyes closed, asleep. You carefully peeled his right arm away from your waist. 

The white comforter had slipped down to his waist, leaving his entire abdomen exposed. To put it frankly, he looked unreal, with the sun casting tiny shadows over the small ridges in his muscles. God, it wasn’t like you had slept with him, but something about this moment made you wish you had, maybe just a little. Even if you wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone.

You got out of bed as quietly as you could, and started looking for all your stuff. Your jeans were in the bathroom, along with your phone, which had died. Curse the damn battery life. You realised you had slept in your long sleeve from yesterday, neither of you had thought about it then, but you regretted it now. After scanning your reflection in the mirror you exited the bathroom with a sigh, while wrangling your messy hair up into a bun. 

The flat looked almost as good in daylight as it did at night. You almost couldn’t believe a boy lived there with how nice things looked and how the interior seemed well fitted together. A leather couch and some blankets, a big TV and a playstation as well as the bookshelf that was almost filled to the brim with books. It felt like a home. Nothing like the dormroom you had. However much you dreaded going back, you had to. So you walked into the little hallway and found you jacket and shoes. You started looking for your backpack, before you realised that it was still in Ben’s truck. 

Not feeling like waking him up, you left a note on his kitchen counter with your number and a message in regards to your backpack. Then you opened the door and head out, making sure the door closed and locked behind you. 

----

The last lesson you had before your finals were on dark matter. It had been twisting your brain for a while but when you walked out of the lecture hall you felt like you finally understood a bit more. You had never been one to rush out of your lectures, but since you only had a notebook, you were quick out. When you step out of the door you’re immediately pulled off to the side by your waist, making you let out a little yelp. You could tell by the cologne that it’s Ben, but he didn’t stand still until your back was pressed against the wall and he was leaning with one arm by the left side of your head. Quickly you pulled your notebook up to your chest, you felt warm all over. Some people kept looking over at you, and you wished they would stop. 

“Eyes on me, angel.”

Ben told you with a deep, almost gravelly voice. You gave him an eye roll, but looked up at him nevertheless. You were met with intense green eyes and a little smirk. 

“Hi Y/N, how are you?” 

You said sarcastically as you stared at him. He gave a short but genuine laugh. 

“Hey angel, how are you?” 

He repeated after you, albeit he still used that nickname. His goal was seemingly to make you go crazy, but he’d have to work a little harder than that though. 

“I’m good Ben, although, I do miss my laptop and books. They both cost me half a fortune. How are you?” 

You looked at him, scanning his teal college sweater and over all soft look. It contrasted deeply with his domineering demeanour. You tried to be swift when attempting to get out of his hold; turns out he saw it coming. Caging you in with his other arm. Luckily most other students had dispersed by then. 

“I’m actually quite hurt by you, love.”

He didn’t look hurt though, he looked like he was out on a mission. 

“Well, I do apologize.. actually, what am I apologizing for?” He looked a little surprised by your cheeky comment.

“I’d hoped you’d apologize for leaving me high and dry this morning, or for running out on me, as if I was just some poor one nighter, for cuddles.”

Ben responded cheekily, thinking he had the upper hand. 

“Well, maybe you were, anywho I still wanna pass this class, and I’m assuming you have some classes to pass as well.”

He removed one hand from the wall, causing him to lean in a little closer. You could feel his breath on your face and it really hit you how close he was.

“I was just a one night cuddle to you?” 

Ben feigned hurt as you looked at him with a deadpan expression. 

“Like the concept’s new to you.” 

Finally you managed to escape from underneath his gaze and break free from his cage-like posture. 

“Look, I just need my stuff back, please.”

You didn’t miss the face he made, the one that looked like genuine hurt. It made your heart regret the words for just a second, before it was gone as fast as it appeared. 

“Sure, I’ll drop by your dorm room in an hour.”

Ben said a little distantly before disappearing into the lecture hall. You started the trek to your dorm as it was your last class, feeling both relief, butalso some kind of unwelcome feeling gnawing at the back of your chest.  

-----

When you entered your dorm room, Alice was there, obviously back from her classes as well. 

“Hey Alice, how’s it going?” 

You asked the brunette, who was slaving away at an essay. Manicured nails making an odd tapping sound as she touched each key. 

“I’ll tell you, if I survive this paper.”

She grumbled as she aggressively typed away at her keyboard. 

“Copy that.” 

You replied as you hung your jacket on the hooks by the door, before you sat down at your own desk. Trying to make out your own handwriting wasn't always the easiest thing, so you got stuck there for an hour or so. Until you heard a knock on the door. You were about to get up, but Alice had been faster. 

“It’s probably just..”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Alice had opened the door. 

“Ben, hi how are you?” 

She said to the man at the door. A little flirtatiously, but that might, might, just be her personality. Truth be told you had asked Alice about Ben when you got home that morning. Before class. She told you all about his endeavours and antics, which she had been a part of. After all, she had a reputation for herself. You didn’t judge her by it though, she had every right to do whatever she pleased. 

“Oh, hi, Lisa, I’m alright, here for Y/N though.”

Your mouth dropped as you heard him say the wrong name. Rightfully so, she smacks the door in his face. You just sighed as she went to the bathroom leaving you to open the door again. 

“Nice work there, Benjamin.” 

You smiled at him, rather unimpressed. 

“My name’s Ben, angel.” 

He said, the mischievous glint was back in his eyes.

“And her name is Alice, remember that.” 

Ben put a finger in the air and tapped it to his head.

“Will remember that.”

He then held out an arm with your backpack dangling from his hand. You went to grab it, but he pulled it back, so it was just out of your reach. 

“Okay, I’ll bite, what’s the catch?” 

You asked with a quirked brow. 

“A date, with yours truly.”

He announced cockily, whilst he looked at you with these intense green eyes. You could have sworn he looked hopeful, maybe even a little vulnerable. That feeling was back in your chest. The one that gnawed somewhere behind your heart. The one that told you to dive in head first, without looking. However you head decided if you were gonna dive, it was going to be on your terms.

“Sure, but I decide when.”

You said, determined. And to your surprise he nodded and got out his phone from his pocket, scrolling through his calendar. You gestured for him to come in, and went to get your phone on your desk. 

“What about after I’ve had my exam in physics 1B? At say 5pm on thursday?” 

“Works for me angel.”

Ben smiled, before taking a step closer to you. Therefore you took a step back, immediately your thighs met the back of your desk. Ben took yet another step and you couldn’t take your eyes off him, constantly gauging his actions. He took the final step up to you, and stood so close that you could feel his breath on your face. He smelled like red bull and cigarettes, and a little hint of cologne hit you as well. Yet you kept your eyes glued to his. Without moving his gaze, he dropped your backpack to the floor. His then free hand went to your chin, tilting it up as he closed in on you even more. 

“See you then.” 

He said as he left a quick peck on your left cheek, which made your cheeks heat up. With a wink he was out the door, leaving you a little speechless. Thursday was only two days away. 

------

When thursday rolled around, you had seen Ben around campus and he had seen you. You knew as much ‘cause he winked at you every time. 

You had also talked more with Alice about him, who had told you about his history with people, which made you feel a little hesitant, but you decided that at least, you could get a good fuck out of it. If the rumors were true, if not, who knows, you might get something more. 

Mostly though, you had been practicing for the physics exam. You got up that morning and got ready, putting on a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie.Your hair was its usual mess, in your eyes, even though it had just been washed. In the dorm kitchen you got out your thermo- cup and made yourself some tea before you headed out the building.

You reached the lecture halls faster than you had thought, and decided to check your phone. Just one message from a number you didn’t know flashed up at you. You unlocked the phone and read the message. 

Good luck today, angel;)

You didn’t stop the smile that broke out on your lips. However you didn’t get the chance to reply as professor Atkins unlocked the door with a smile in your direction. You and a couple of other students wandered into the lecture hall and before you knew it, the exam was in front of your eyes. 

It was a hard one, with so many questions that you thought you were gonna miss some, flipping all the pages and double checking all of your calculations. But when you finished you were only the fourth to leave. 

Quickly you walked across campus and over to your dorm, trying to figure out what to do. Then you remembered the message that still sat unanswered in your inbox. 

- Ben? This you?

You sent as you unlocked the door and flung your backpack to the floor. There was no expectation for him to answer soon, since you expected him to have his own exam. But almost immediately a response ticked in. You sat down by your desk to answer.

- Sure is;)

-  Finished your exam?

The second message ticked in, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe he was a little excited too. You were about to reply when he called you up instead. Instantly you felt more anxious and let it ring two times before you answered.

“Hey?” 

You answered lamely. 

“Hey yourself, I figured you were out since you answered my message now.”

He said and you could hear him rummaging around somewhere as he talked to you.

“Yeah, apparently I knew more than I thought I did.” 

You laughed as you thought back to how the exam went. 

“So, since we’re both done, wanna start the date a little early?” 

Ben asked as a door shut in the background. 

“Sounds like you’re already on your way over here, but sure, why not? Where are we going by the way?”

You asked as you got up from your desk and headed for your closet. Wondering what to put on. 

“That’s a surprise, but put on something warm.” 

He answered as if he knew what you were thinking. 

“Okay, see you soon.” 

You said as you opened the door to the closet.��

“See you in a minute angel.” 

Ben said and then you hung up. 

You decided to put on a different hoodie, a plain white one, and a leather jacket over it, hoping it might be enough. White, almost new sneakers went on your feet. Then you went into the bathroom to put on a little bit of perfume and some make up. Just sorting out your brows and some mascara, as well as a little concealer for the dark circles under your eyes. You hated not being able to sleep properly. You frowned at your reflection when there was a knock at your door. 

When you opened the door Ben was stood there looking as handsome and cosy as ever. With a sweater and a coat hanging from his arm, he looked like he came straight out of a fashion magazine. You could see his eyes scanning your body and face, before he licked his lips. It almost looked predatory, but you noticed the little nervous shifting from foot to foot he did. 

“Hey, ready to go?” 

Ben smiled at you, with the most genuine smile you had seen in a while. You just nodded as a reply, trying to hide your embarrassment by putting on your backpack and shutting the door, locking it behind you. You didn’t think he would act like a sap, but there he was, brushing his knuckles against the back of your hand. He didn’t take your hand until you were out of the dorm building though. You turned to look at him and were met with a smirk.

“You don’t think I’m gonna call it a date just to say I’ve been on a date with you right?” 

You just shrugged, as Ben lead you to the parking lot. 

“‘C’mon love, gonna need you to use your words and smart mouth today.” 

Again, there was something overly sexual about the way he just was, but you wouldn’t complain. He looked hot. Until he suddenly looked nervous.

“Unless you don’t want this, then that’s totally cool, I’ll just head back-” 

He started to ramble and you suddenly saw him in a brand new light. You squeezed his hand.

“I want this Ben, ‘m just nervous.”

You smiled at him shyly. Finally you felt a little comfortable in your own nervousness, because it seemed like he was the same. 

“Good, okay, yeah.” 

Ben said with a relieved smile on his lips. 

“So, wanna tell me where we’re going?”

You asked as you playfully pushed against his side. However, it seemed that he had foreseen your action, because before you even knew it, you were tucked into his side with an arm hanging lazily around your shoulder. 

“Nope, you’ll figure it out soon anyways.” 

He whispered cheekily against your ear, before opening the passenger door to his truck that you had just arrived at. You nodded at him and got in. Taking in the vehicle’s inside in the daylight. It was clean enough and the radio had an aux cord hanging out of the plugin. A pair of sunglasses were laying on the dashboard and you noticed it was stickshift. With how smooth the previous drive with him had been, you were a little surprised, most people chose automatic nowadays. 

“Ready?” 

Ben asked after plugging in his phone and putting on a playlist. You nodded both in answer and admiration for his song choice. Jimi Hendrix was always good. 

“Words, angel.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, but you answered none the less.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

So Ben started up the car, and you rolled out of the parking lot, to the tune of ‘All Along the Watchtower.’ You both sat in silence, occasionally looking at each other and smiling. You eventually pulled out your phone and sent a message to Alice that she shouldn’t wait up for you. Then you remembered that you hadn’t saved Ben’s number, so you went to his number and saved it, not bothering with his surname. You took a look over at him, and when you saw the sun hitting him at just the right angle, you had to take a contact picture. He knew what you were doing to some degree, because he smiled a little crooked smile. It wasn’t a smirk, just a regular crooked smile. 

“What’s that for?” 

He asked as you smiled down at the photo. Alice just answered with a winky face. 

“Contact photo.”

“Ugh, you’re one of them?” 

He groaned, while you laughed a little.

“What’s wrong with contact photos?” 

You asked curiously.

“I mean, you already know who’s calling, why would you need a picture to remind you?” 

He said incredulously as he took a turn to the left away from the city. 

“I don’t know, I just think it’s a cute feature, makes me remember good times I’ve had with people.” 

You said as Ben nodded a little in understanding, as you stared out the windshield when realisation dawned on you. 

“Ben, are we going to the observatory?” 

He chuckled and nodded, before looking at you for a second. 

“Way too smart.” 

----

You arrived at the Observatory 45 minutes later, when the sun had started to set. You were both heading out of the car and while you started walking, you stopped after a few strides to see that Ben had gone to the side of the plane on the back of the truck. He grabbed a backpack that seemed a little oversized, but you went along with it. 

He grabbed your hand and lead you the rest of the way up to the building. He could see how you were admiring it and how the sunset shone against your hair, making it look like a halo. Before you turned he snapped a picture of you. 

“I haven’t really been here in ages, jesus.” 

You said more to yourself, but Ben overheard you.  

“You haven’t?” 

He took a hold of your hand gently, rubbing the back of your hand softly upon seeing the distant look in your eyes. 

“Nah, but that’s not a story for a first date though.” 

Ben just hummed at your answer, but you could tell he wouldn’t let it go.

“So, how was your day Ben?” 

You changed the topic, genuinely interested in what he had to say. He seemed a little surprised at your question. With a furrowed brow you looked up at him as you neared the entrance. 

“You know, not a lot of people ask me that, and if they do they hardly care about the answer.”

And your heart ached for him. You watched him as he paid for entrance tickets, nodding to the guy and saying a thank you. This was completely different to the guy you’d seen around campus, who seemed so unaffected by the world. Yet he studied astrophysics and asked you out on a proper date. 

“Well, I do care about your answer Ben.” 

You said as you followed him into the observatory. While usually your mouth would be slightly agape at the sight of the big telescope and all the technical instruments surrounding you, Ben was the one holding your attention. 

“Well, woke up early, had a little jog and then a shower, then this exam that went mehh. When I got home I got ready for this date I have tonight. Don’t know if I should tell you, but I’m a little nervous.”

You smiled as you looked at him, still your fingers were intertwined, and you gave him a little squeeze. He pulled you closer by the hand and left a little kiss at your temple. It felt like you’d known him for a long time, like it had been like this forever. It was both scary and comfortable at the same time. 

The two of you walked outside to watch the sunset over the city along with a handful of other people. You were still looking at the orange and pink hues that painted the sky when Ben carefully let go of your hand. He slung his backpack down and opened it, pulling out a blanket, along with a few containers.

“Ben, are we gonna have a picnic here?” 

You asked a little shocked, still there was a coy smile on your lips. It wasn’t that you put it past him, but to be honest, you thought it was going to be a pretty low key date. He always seemed to surprise you. Ben laid out all the containers on the blanket carefully. 

“Yes we are, now will you sit down?”

He smiled at you from his position on the grass, and you complied, sitting down at the other side of the blanket, you felt like you needed just a little space to catch your breath. 

“Now, I’ve made a couple of different dishes that I hope you like, if not I’m also serving looks.” 

Ben winked at you. 

“Well good thing you cooked, I don’t want to starve.” 

You said a little exaggerated, as you started opening one of the heavenly smelling containers. 

“You wound me, angel.” 

But you could tell by the smile on his lips that he wasn’t serious. Yet again the nickname made you blush. 

“Why do you call me angel by the way?” 

You asked a little embarrassed, yet you still met his gaze. Ben mused at your question, with a little smile on his lips. 

“You remind me of an angel, and to be a little frank, seeing you blush every time I say it, well it’s a welcome bonus.”

As if on cue, you blushed, which made him chuckle with you. You sat in comfortable silence for a while, just eating all of the good food he had cooked up. 

 “Didn’t know you cooked either, you don’t really seem like the type.” 

You said after a few minutes of silence, with a hope to create some conversation, you wanted to get to know more than the person the entire uni seemed to know.

“Yeah, well, mum always cooked when she couldn’t sleep, I guess it’s something I’ve picked up from her, that cooking is a really nice thing to do when you want to think of something else.” 

Ben admitted a little quietly, and you remembered how she had insomnia, the same as you. You nodded and started pondering. Maybe you should tell him about why you didn’t really come here anymore. 

“That's really nice Ben, it tastes really incredible.”

The sun had finished setting and the stars started to come out, one by one. The temperature had dropped a bit too, and you regretted not bringing any gloves. That’s why you started to rub your hands together to generate some heat. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Ben to notice. Quickly yet smoothly, he scooted closer to you and grabbed your hands, and warmed them in his own. 

“You know, my dad used to bring me here to look at the stars.”

You decided to speak up, but still keeping your eyes on your hands, engulfed in Ben. He hummed in reply.

“Back then it was okay for me to have silly dreams and stupid theories, it was okay. But as the years passed and I still wouldn’t let the dreams die away, he stopped bringing me here. One night when I was around fourteen, I asked him why. He said he didn’t want to nurture silly little dreams, that I should start focusing on a real, efficient and good work opportunities for girls.”

Ben had stopped looking at the sky. He looked at you, with those big green eyes of his. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna be a professor or engineer. In spite of him.”

You said decidedly.

“You know, you’re not doing it just to spite him-” 

Ben started, but before he could finish you interrupted.

“Don’t tell me how I live my life.” 

You protested. A little hurt by his comment. 

“I’m not, I was going to say that you don’t do it just to spite him, but also because you’re insanely good at what you do.” 

“Oh.” 

Was the only word you managed to squeeze out. You felt really embarrassed. He laughed, and put an arm around your shoulders. 

“And I mean that, professor Atkins hasn’t shut up about you in class for the last two months.”

Ben was an ego boost and a half, even though you felt abashed most of the time. 

“Shut up.”

You smile at him, and he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on your lips, leaving you stunned and wanting more of his soft lips. 

“Now, wanna go look at some planets through a big ass telescope, genius?”

You smiled at his question. 

“Fuck yes.” 

[marvxlousqueen]

Warren Worthington- Laundry

word count: 1.8K

warnings: really soft smut like just sweet smut, no condom whoops, cussing, also! not proofread lmao

A/N: so i have two requests rn but i’m having a hard time writing them bc i don’t feel inspired but ! i’m inspired for this so let’s get it folks

also this is like a modern college!warren au 

Finals week. Commonly referred to as hell week, which is a perfect description for it. College was hard enough without taking long, difficult exams. (Y/n) had been going through a quizlet for her macroeconomics class for the last 2 hours. She could feel her brain start to go numb. If she had to go over monetary policy one more time, she was going to literally punch herself in the face. She shifted in her desk chair, trying not to wake her dorm mate. (Y/n) grabbed her phone, going to check her notifications, but stopped herself when she saw the time. 

“2 am, holy shit.” 

(Y/n) didn’t want to pull an all nighter, knowing it would just make her feel like shit the next day. She figured she deserved sleep (if she was able to get any). After closing her laptop, she slowly creeped over to her bed.

“Damn it.”

Her dirty laundry was in a pile in front of her bed. She was supposed to do it earlier and study at the student laundry mat, but all the machines were taken. (Y/n) thought about her options, deciding that since she had just drank a red bull an hour ago and wouldn’t be able to sleep, she might as well throw her laundry in the wash instead of just laying in bed overthinking. She figured she could go over her biology notes as her clothes washed, giving her a break from economics. 

She quietly threw her laundry in her basket, placing her bio notebook on top. (Y/n) tiptoed out of the room, heading left to the student laundry mat. The dorms were extremely quiet. Everyone was probably either cramming for exams or passed out already. 

(Y/n) reached the laundry room that was at the end of the hall, but hesitated in walking in. She noticed a person sitting on top of one of the machines, but with her eyes still adjusting to the bright florescent lights she couldn’t tell who. 

“Oh, hey (Y/n).”

She squinted to see the figure as she stepped into the room.

“Warren?”

Him and (Y/n) were somewhat close, having shared a class their sophomore year of college. She had always found him cute, especially early sophomore year, but now he had grown into himself more- he was a straight up hottie. She saw him more frequently now because he had taking the position of RA for their dorm hall. They never spoke too much, just exchanged smiles and the occasional small talk. 

Warren hummed, looking back down at his textbook. 

(Y/n) lugged her laundry basket on top of one of the machines, filling it with quarters before turning back to face Warren.

“Why are you in here at 2 am?” 

“Why are you?”

“I asked you first.”

He let out a sigh, “Just couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get some chores done and some studying in. Was going pretty well too before someone distracted me.”

(Y/n) laughed, “Distracting? I’m not that loud, but fine I’ll be quiet.”

“It’s not you talking, it’s your clothes.”

“Huh?”

(Y/n) looked down. All she was wearing was a big t-shirt over a pair of underwear, her feet clad in fuzzy socks.

“That’s against dress code, you know.”

(Y/n) could hear the smirk in his voice. She turned back around, loading her laundry into the washing machine. “Oh shut up, Mr. RA. And if you’re distracted, close your eyes.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and even though Warren couldn’t see her, it’s like he could feel her annoyance. 

“Oh, fuck me,” (Y/n) mumbled to herself.

“Gladly.”

She slammed her hand down on the washer, “Shut it! Why are you so horny right now? I’ve never seen you act like this.”

“Must be all the sleep deprivation. Really gets the hormones pumping. But no, really, what’s wrong?”

He hopped off his machine, checking the time and seeing it only had another 5 minutes before it needed to dry. He walked towards (Y/n), trying to keep his eyes from scanning her bare legs and looking creepy.

“I didn’t bring my detergent. Fuck me.”

“You can use mine!”

Warren happily ran to his basket, grabbing two big bottles, excited to be able to help her. 

“Here.”

“Fabric softener?” (Y/n) tried to hold in a laugh.

“What? It makes my clothes feel nice!”

“You’re such a softie!”

“Shut it!”

“Nope! If you get to make sex jokes, I get to bully you for being a softie.”

Warren groaned, hopping up on the machine next to (Y/n), leaving his textbook abandoned on the other side of the room. 

“It’s cute, seriously. Wanting soft clothes and all.”

He rolled his eyes, but wasn’t able to keep a smile from forming on his face after she indirectly called him cute.

“But, no, thank you. For the detergent and softener.” 

Warren hummed in response, watching (Y/n) add detergent and softener. Somehow she seemed to beautiful even under the bright laundry room lights at two in the morning. 

(Y/n) started the machine and shut the top of the washer, hopping up on it. She scooted closer to Warren, her legs dangling off the washer. 

“So...”

“So?”

He turned towards her, waiting for her to continue. 

“So-”

(Y/n) was interrupted by the buzzing of Warren’s machine. He hopped off, going to toss them into a dryer. (Y/n) followed him across the room. Warren opened the washer top and started loading the clothes into a dryer. (Y/n) grabbed some clothes, wanting to help. 

“Nice boxers.”

Warren spun away from the dryer, turning to face her.

“What? Put those down!”

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles huh?”

Warren snatched them from her hand, “Don’t touch my underwear! That’s- that’s weird.”

“Says the boy who has made at least three sex jokes since I got in here.”

Warren rolled his eyes, focused on digging quarters out of his laundry basket for the dryer. 

“I liked them though. Pretty cute.”

He let out a scoff, “Sure, cartoon underwear is so cute.”

“Yeah, would look even cuter on my bedroom floor though.”

Warren whipped his head to look back at her. She was sitting up on the washer he had just used, absentmindedly flipping through his textbook.

“Did- did you just make a sex joke?”

“Did you like it?”

Warren turned back to the dryer, finishing with his quarters, “Not at all.”

“Fuck you.”

“Please do.”

“Damn it! You’re good at that.”

“That’s what she said.”

(Y/n) lightly kicked Warren in response to his never ending sexual humor. He patted her leg, making her scooch over so he could squeeze in next to her. 

“So statistics huh?” 

Warren patted his textbook cover with his other hand, “Yup.”

“Gross.”

“Yup.” 

A moment of silence passed, Warren’s hand still resting on her thigh. 

“S-so, what did you want to say earlier?”

(Y/n) looked away from his hand, “What? When?”

“Over there,” he pointed lazily towards her machine.

“Oh! I, um, I just wanted to say you got taller. Since last year, you know?”

Warren laughed, eyes on her face. “Thanks.”

“You look good, Warren! Serious glow up.”

“So I was ugly last year?”

“What?,” (Y/n)’s eyes widened, “no! Not at all! You were different though.”

“Bad different I’m guessing.”

She shoved his shoulder, “Shut up! Good different. You were cuter, now you’re-”

“I’m what?”

(Y/n)’s tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, “Hot. I mean- you know, uh, hotter? You always looked good. But now you’re like- whew! You know?”

Warren’s eyebrows were raised in amusement, not used to seeing (Y/n) so flustered. It felt refreshing, like they were finally escaping the stress of school and just having fun again.

“You’re hotter too. Still hot last year, but like- whew!”

“Fuck you, okay. Don’t mock me.”

He poked her ribs, “I’m serious! You look great.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, trying to hold back her smile. 

“(Y/n),” Warren whispered, scooting closer to her, “C-can I kiss you?”

Instead of responding, (Y/n) smashed her lips into his, desperate for him. Warren’s hand moved from her thigh to cup her jaw, making her slow down. He wanted to savor this moment with her. 

The kiss became softer and lighter. Butterflies were going off in Warren’s stomach as she pulled herself onto his lap, accidentally shoving his basket off in the process. The loud bang made them pull apart.

“Fuck! Sorry! I was trying to be sexy and get on top, but-”

 “It’s okay.”

Warren shut her up by kissing her once more, slightly more feverish this time. His hands slipped under her shirt, slowly climbing higher. (Y/n) stopped to pull the shirt over her head. 

Warren’s jaw dropped when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“I- um, wow-”

(Y/n)’s lips moved to his neck while her fingers began to slip behind the waist band of his sweatpants. She slowly tugged them off, leaving them hanging around his ankles. 

(Y/n) began to palm his obvious erection, her mouth sucking a mark onto his neck.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

She pulled away, retracting her hands from his boxers, “Y-yeah, are you okay? Oh boy-”

Warren grabbed her hands, holding them between his, “I’m fine! Great actually, really really great. I just- I really want to say I actually like you. Like feelings- not just this. And yeah I want to do this too, but I would also want something to happen with feelings..”

(Y/n) moved her hands from his to cup his face, “I definitely want to date you, Warren. You’re so sweet.”

She could feel his face heat up in her hands, “Good! Yay- yes, okay. Cool-”

“Just stop talking.”

(Y/n)’s lips found their way back to Warren’s neck as her hips began to grind against Warren, making him whimper.

Warren slid down his boxers before moving his hands to her underwear, rubbing her folds through it. (Y/n)’s sleep deprived body responded quicker than it usually would, she was already soaked.

She pulled away to move her underwear to the side, too tired to take it off in their difficult position. She lined herself up with Warren and slid down, taking him all in at once. 

Warren let out a breathy moan as her heat wrapped around him.

“Fuck, (Y/n).”

(Y/n)’s nails went to scratch against his head as she slowly moved her hips on him. 

It was soft and slow, but exactly what they needed to relax and unwind. 

(Y/n) felt herself grow closer to her edge and she began to move slightly faster, lips smashed against Warren’s.

She tightened around him as she came, making Warren follow. 

“Fuck- I’m so tired.”

(Y/n) laughed, climbing off of him and pulling her shirt back over her head. 

“Me too.”

Warren hopped off the machine, almost tripping over his pants around his ankles.

“You could come sleep at my place. I-um, I have a room to myself you know? Since I’m an RA. Y-you don’t have to, but-”

“No, that’d be nice. Except I’ve still got a load in. But you can just go ahead, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Warren shook his head, “I’ll stay.”

“Really? It’s like 3 am.”

Warren walked over to her machine, “I need to stay, you still have my laundry detergent.”

“Oh fuck you!”

“You just did!”

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy @rexorangecouny @cyndagoaway @killcomet @mcrmarvelloki @queen-turtle-boiii @hardlylo @ziggymay @jacqueline1916 @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275 @queen-baelin 

hmu to be added!

[artificialqueens]

Girl on Fire (Ninex) - Ashley

A/N: Nina finally starts to believe she is more than just a sidekick in other people’s fairy tales. Only her dream night is cut short when she is dragged away by her drunk best friend as soon as the clock strikes one-thirty. Monet is sick of pining after her straight best friend and thinks she’s finally found someone who steals her heart away. However, she doesn’t have any idea what her name is. (10k words)

Here goes my submission for the Black Girl Magic challenge, I had so much fun writing this and hope you guys enjoy - think of it as Cinderella in 2020. It is set in the same universe as Got My Number (Branjie fic) however you do not have to have read that to read this. Would love any comments/feedback/concrit anyone has and if anyone would just like to chat my sideblog is @artificialashley. Big thanks to Meggie for betaing this like a legend <3 Hope everyone is as well and as safe as they can be in these current times xoxo

It was safe to say that Nina had been placing her friends’ needs above her own for a long time. She didn’t know when it had started; be it the time she let Brooke swap roles with her last-minute before their drama exam in school, or every time she’d acted as a false alibi for Yvie during her secret rendezvous with a private school girl from the other side of the town, but it had been happening for a while.

This wasn’t something she felt guilty about, not something she would change for the world. Only every now and again the tiniest part of her brain wondered why she couldn’t be the one to have the Disney princess storyline, why she was always stuck as the bumbling sidekick, there to push forward someone else’s narrative. That was how she usually ended off feeling on nights out.

With Brooke sloppily dancing with a boy to her right and Yvie’s mind clearly elsewhere, Nina figured she might as well accept that this night wouldn’t be spent exactly how she’d pictured and try to enjoy it nonetheless.

“I’m gonna get another drink, you want anything?”

“I’m alright.” Yvie nodded, clearly distracted. “I might head back soon, anyway.”

Looking back to Brooke and the boy, a lilt of panic rose in Nina’s body. She knew her friend was a grown girl who could look after herself. But that didn’t falsify the universally acknowledged fact that when Brooke Lynn Hytes began to toss her hair and sway her hips, no one was safe. “Wait ‘til I’m back, though?”

“Of course,” Yvie responded, adding a thumbs up for good measure.

With that Nina made her way to the bar, trying her hardest to be speedy whilst still polite, something that was almost a kamikaze mission on nights like that. Despite her taller and broader frame, she’d always struggled to worm her way to the front of the bar, scared of hurting anyone near her and trying her best to remain patient.

Her foot tapping against the floor without thought, a wave of relief washed over her when a bartender beelined her way.

“A single vodka lemonade please,” she smiled to the man, holding the exact amount of change in her hand ready.

To her surprise, she heard a laugh to her left. A deep throaty laugh, the kind that required someone’s head to fall back to escape.

That’s when she saw her.

Monet.

“Make that a double,” the girl’s voice flanked down the bartender, smooth like honey. “With Red Bull. None of that lemonade bullshit. And one for me too.”

It wasn’t a secret that Nina had had a crush on the girl for a while. Or at least not to her friends.

It had started in year 13, when their sixth form decided to make some promotions, placing posters on the front gates, on roundabouts and even on buses around the town - Monet’s bright smile and warm brown eyes adorning every single one.

“Doesn’t Bob’s sister look just like her?” Yvie pointed at the poster as they made their way out the gates, on route for their daily meal deal.

“I know right!” Brooke added. “They could be twins.”

But Nina didn’t really agree, stopping in her tracks. “Look at her eyes, they’re much bigger than Bob’s. And her cheekbones, Bob’s face is more round. Look at her lips…” She trailed off for a moment. “She’s beautiful.”

Brooke and Yvie turned their heads to face her in synchronisation, realising the same thought.

“I’m not saying Bob isn’t pretty,” Nina panicked, afraid that she had been rude about the kind and bubbly girl that everyone in her year adored. “I just meant—”

“We know what you meant.” Yvie grinned with every muscle in her face.

“Nina and Monet, sitting in a tree—” Brooke started to sing and wave her arms in the air, only to be interrupted mid-stride after being swatted with a plastic folder full of literature coursework.

“We don’t even know her!” Nina turned to them, a blush starting to seep through her pale cheeks. “You can’t fancy someone you don’t know.”

She didn’t need Brooke or Yvie to tell her that wasn’t true.

“Oh,” Nina turned to face her, lost for words being an understatement to how she felt.

“Sorry,” Monet laughed, looking her up and down in a way that made Nina’s body tremble. “I wasn’t going to let a girl stand and wait anxiously for so long to order a single vodka lemonade, not on my watch.”

Before Nina could think of how to respond, the bartender had returned with their drinks, Monet handing him over a note and taking them, sliding one in Nina’s direction.

Nina found herself in awe almost of the other girl’s confidence.

“Thank you,” she managed to muster after taking a sip, the sweet tang of the drink giving her a shock, her hand automatically raising to her mouth.

“Oh,” Monet tilted her head and pointed a finger. “You’re one of them.”

“One of who?” Nina looked around confused, paranoia racing through her veins, only dissolving once she felt Monet’s hand touch her arm. Nina wondered if maybe a flame burned inside Monet’s ribcage where her heart should have been, heat radiating from the girl’s hands and eyes, from the entirety of her curvy frame.

“One of those pretty girls who just stands with a drink and doesn’t dance. The boring ones.”

And for a moment Nina forgot about it all. She forgot about how drunk Brooke was across the dancefloor, she forgot about how distracted Yvie had been acting. She forgot about her worries, her nerves, her usual hesitation. She forgot there were other people on the planet as she watched the girl she had crushed on for the longest time light up the night around them.

“I think you’re wrong,” Nina spoke softly, finishing the rest of her drink in record time.

She didn’t know if her heart was beating fast because of the girl or the drink. But either way, it was telling her that if she didn’t let those arms hold her it would jump right out of her chest and onto the sticky floor below.

And so she did, swaying to the music in time with Monet, letting the girl’s hands wander around her waist.

“Can I touch your hair?” Nina whispered, almost too quiet for Monet to hear.

Suddenly, she remembered seeing the girl eating on the grass once when the sun was out and shining. How she’d watched as her friend attempted a cartwheel and failed, Monet throwing her head back with laughter, her curls dropping down and almost touching the grass below them.

Monet nodded in response, Nina slowly and gently running her hands through the locks, smooth against her skin.

That’s when she felt Monet’s body inch in closer to her own, Nina seeing the purple sparkle on her eyelids briefly before shutting her own and leaning forwards.

She could feel the flame inside Monet make its way into her own body too, burning the whole floor that surrounded them. One word, one name running circles around her brain. Her lips felt familiar like Nina was simply coming home from a trip away. They moved together just perfectly, an equal balance of pressure back and forth.

Nina’s eyes opened for a second as she watched Monet pull away, a big, bright, and beautiful grin plastered on her face. Before she could take it in anymore she was pulled back into the fire, immersed in its embers, the outside world fading away to ash and dust around her.

Maybe she was more than the sidekick for one night.

That was until someone called the emergency services and the fire was extinguished.

That someone being Brooke Lynn Hytes.

She didn’t process it at first, the voice that was crying out being filtered out of her thoughts to focus on anything and everything Monet. But when she heard it again, Nina couldn’t help but double-take.

“You can’t kick me out! I’ve been coming here since I was fifteen, you nonces!”

Nina’s jaw dropped in horror as she saw her best friend being carried by two bouncers who’s heads almost touched the ceiling. Silently cursing at Yvie, she looked back and Monet, the red lipstick that was previously the definition of precision now smeared around her lips like a crime scene.

“I have to go.”

“Oh. Okay.” Monet frowned at her. “Can I get you on Snap? My phone’s dead, though. I’ll add you back as soon as I’m home.”

“Yeah,” Nina grinned, her mind taken away from her mess of a best friend for a split second to bask in what was happening. Only for her joy to plummet when she reached into her bag and pulled out an assortment of eyeliners and lip glosses instead of her phone. Her mind flashed back a few hours before when Brooke was only at her happy-drunk stage and had insisted on taking some cute photos of them on Nina’s phone (having the best camera, of course), realising that her phone was, in fact, being carried out of the club in Brooke’s pocket as she spoke.

“Shit,” she looked back and forth between her bag and Monet as if it would appear by magic if she wished hard enough. Knowing she needed to hurry to her friend, she quickly grabbed Monet’s wrist and began scribbling across it with her eyeliner, giving her hand a quick squeeze before running off in the opposite direction to find Brooke.

She could have sworn her lips were still tingling by the time she’d caught up.

“Nina!” Brooke cried from her seat in the smoking area, throwing her hands in the air to hug her best friend, only for them to flop back down dead-weight at her sides when they didn’t reach.

“Please can you get her out of here?” The bouncers turned to face Nina, leaving her petrified like a school kid who’d been caught skipping lessons.

Nina’s motherly side came to fruition as she tried to convince Brooke to come home with her, secretly thinking about how long she could make fun of her for being in this state. She decided on at least until the Easter holidays were over, all the way up until Summer at a push.

Eventually, the light at the end of the tunnel began to emerge; Nina managing to convince Brooke to make her way home. The only problem was that she didn’t want to do so with Nina.

“You’re not coming with me, I want you to go in there and get yourself a shag. I know you fancy Bob’s sister. Do it for me, Nina, I’m living through you!”

Her cheeks turning a brighter red than the lipstick that was smothered around her mouth (Monet’s lipstick smothered around her mouth), Nina found herself both mortified and joyed at her friend’s words, a part of her bursting with excitement at the fact she’d finally managed to kiss the girl that always caught her eye but also embarrassed at Brooke’s choice of crude words and inability to lower the volume of her voice.

“I’m coming with you, just let me find Yvie.”

“Nooooooo.” Brooke protested as if she were being asked to go home with a criminal trying to kidnap her rather than her best friend of ten years.

That was when a gravelly voice appeared next to her, a familiar voice she had spent years trying to imitate, never fully being able to capture just how unique it was.

Oh, how she had missed spending time with Vanessa.

Nina had never been one to pick sides, always wanting to be friends with everyone as best as she could be, but it seemed that had been impossible since the infamous breakup plagued their group earlier that year. She understood why Vanessa had cut her and Yvie out of her life, knowing that they would only be a constant reminder of the past but she couldn’t help but long that their group of six was just that again. And seeing the way Vanessa was looking at Brooke gave her a sneaking suspicion that she was not alone in those thoughts.

Content that Vanessa would be able to talk sense into Brooke ten times better than she would, Nina retrieved her phone and checked the time. The club didn’t close for another thirty minutes. Her heart almost skipped a beat and she realised she had a whole thirty minutes to feel Monet’s hands around her waist, their lips pressed together with varying pressure, releasing waves of latent heat into the disco lights above.

Only in the sea of heads bopping to the music, one set of dark curls was nowhere to be seen.

***

“So tonight’s not the night then?” Monet felt Anthony speak close to her ear, his gaze cast to Monique, who they could hear giggling as she attempted to re-tie the back of Asia’s bodysuit, her drunk coordination and false nails making the tying of a bow as hard as neuroscience for her.

“No night is the night.” Monet rolled her eyes at her friend.

As much as she loved him and admired his ability to want to address issues head-on, she had to admit that he was sometimes just a pain in the arse. And a shit-stirrer. He was also a really big shit-stirrer.

“Whatever you say.” He held his hand up in defence, grabbing Monet’s wrist and dragging her over to the other half of their foursome.

Only her attempt to get lost in the music failed as soon as Monique grabbed her hands, twirling her around and playing like they usually did.

Growing up in Britain to a Caribbean family, Monet had fought hard to fight off the bad stereotypes and embrace the good ones that came her way. She had never thought the one that would plague her the most would be pining after her straight best friend, yet here she was, dreading the moment that the repetitive playlist would remix into Flo Rida’s Low and she’d have to let the stunning girl touch her as if it was no big deal at all.

She decided it might just be better after all if she went to the bar once the familiar beat began to play, figuring that alcohol would work as a good enough distraction.

Only once she arrived there, she found one that was much, much more promising.

It annoyed her at first, the incessant tapping of the girl’s shoe so loud she could hear it in the busy club. But then she looked at the legs attached to the tapping feet and the torso attached to those legs and the face attached to the torso and Monet suddenly felt much more forgiving.

She seemed the opposite of Monique, her body thick and her skin pale. Her mannerisms showed a shy, reserved girl, unlike the one that turned everything into a production, unlike the girl she had found herself longing to kiss for months on end.

Monet would have given her the world and more. But she instead settled for a drink.

The perfect distraction.

It wasn’t until they began to dance that Monet realised how different she was to her hookups of the past, finding something endearing in her nervous nature. Normally she’d find herself cringing at someone’s bad dancing, but the way the girl stomped only made Monet want to pull her in closer, seeing something in the girl’s smile that made her feel like she’d known her a lifetime. Never on a night out had she felt so invested, so unaware of her surroundings, unaware of Monique.

Usually, kisses in the club were sloppy, too much tongue and touching. This time was different, the girl asking politely if she could touch Monet’s hair (Monet wanted to tell her she could pull it as much as she liked but refrained with fear or sounding too eager). Her lips were soft and gentle; Monet may have just let a small moan escape from her mouth after they parted, unable to stop grinning once she pulled away. The usual fire of confidence that burned inside of her was dancing all over, going crazy over the dirty blonde and her blue jumpsuit, the sequins dazzling in the light of the disco.

She tasted of hope and Red Bull.

That taste still lingering once the girl had pulled away, scanning the room in a panic and turning back to Monet. She wasn’t a mind reader but she knew something was wrong.

“I have to go.”

The words pierced her skin like an arrow, shot from the closest range. Monet should have been okay, she knew it was unrealistic to think that the girl would invite her back and she’d spend the entire night in her arms. Yet all she wanted was to wake up in a big four-poster perfectly entwined with her body. Generally, Monet thought of herself as a rather chill person, not letting much get under her skin, but the thought of leaving without this girl’s Snapchat made her stomach tighten just enough.

She watched as she pulled out her eyeliner and scribbled, unable to read the scrawl properly in the darkness of the club, knowing she’d have to wait until she was home to read it properly.

Monet could still feel where the girl had squeezed her hand minutes later, standing alone for a moment to take it all in before starting a mission to find her friends.

It didn’t take long. Within thirty seconds of looking she could already see them, their own circle formed in a less busy area of the dancefloor, Asia pretending to make it rain whilst Monique and Anthony took turns in the middle, splitting and kicking to the pop track playing as though they were in a fight for their lives.

She wouldn’t change her crazy group of friends for the world.

“Hey girl,” Monet placed her hands on Asia’s shoulders, unable to keep the ‘I’ve just pulled a really fit girl’ grin off her face.

“She returns!” Monique screamed over the music, still focused on dancing and managing not to miss a beat. “You look like you’ve had fun.”

It was rare that Monet spoke to Monique about any hookups, keeping that part of her life a separate entity in their friendship, shutting her friend down whenever she asked any questions about it. In her home there was a fine line between what was discussed and what was not, Monet sometimes struggling to remove that division when she hung out with her friends, afraid that she’d only open the box and release more creatures than intended. Afraid Monique would realise how she truly felt.

Only this time it was different; maybe she was still reeling from the kiss or maybe it was the vodka, but she had no problem telling her friends about the amazing girl she had just met, or as well as she could do given that they were in the middle of a dance to the death.

“Hey, Monique, why don’t you just do a cartwheel?” Anthony shouted to her, causing an eruption of laughter on Asia’s face and a contrasting one on Monique’s that only meant trouble.

“Do not encourage her!” Monet turned to her two friends trying to keep a straight face, montages of all of Monique’s previous failed attempts flashing through her head. She pointed at her and raised her voice: “You cannot do a cartwheel.”

“But who said?”

“Jesus,” Monet shouted over the music, causing yet another eruption of Asia-laughter before the disaster struck.

It started off stronger than most of Monique’s previous attempts. Her hands touched the ground. Her legs went above them. Everyone managed to move away fast enough (this being the reason for failure for fifty perfect of said previous attempts). But it didn’t stay that way. Monet watched almost in slow motion as her arm buckled underneath her, bending in a way that arms shouldn’t bend, hearing Monique cry out in pain.

A cry of pain she could still hear hours later in their local accident and emergency, surrounded by bloody knees and gurning jaws, waiting impatiently for the imbecile she called her best friend to be released.

Normally people would wait until the next day to tell their friend’s “I told you so” in situations like this, but Monet wasn’t that humble, making sure to say it at least six times in the ambulance journey, then another seven to Asia and Anthony once they arrived in their Uber.

“But you have to admit I was winning the battle.” Anthony sat up on the waiting room chair and looked back and forth between the two girls. “She didn’t even know the words.”

Giving him a slap on the wrist, Asia’s motherly side came out, her nose scrunching in annoyance. “That is the last thing on my mind right now!”

“Monet?” He raised an eyebrow to her, avoiding Asia’s stern look.

“I don’t know, mate. I didn’t really see the entire thing, you know. Would be biased to judge from those ten seconds of failure.”

Monet immediately prepared for an ambush based on the looks on each of her friend’s faces.

And ambushed she was, the pair of them forgetting their circumstances for a moment to ask Monet one hundred and one questions about her hookup. Only looking down at her hand to see a messy smudge of eyeliner instead of a name, Monet realised she couldn’t have given them valid answers even if she wanted to.

It would be her to find a girl so intriguing, a girl who made her want to dance all night and lose her the second the clock struck one-thirty. Her only glass slipper of hope turned utterly unreadable during the heat of their panicked ambulance journey.

Sensing upset in her face, Anthony grabbed Monet’s hand tightly. “Do I need to fight someone?”

But before Monet could begin to explain that her hookup needed finding rather than fighting, they were saved by a familiar cry.

“What do we think?” Monique began to shimmy towards the girls, her arm wrapped tightly in a cast, gaining the attention of every soul in the room (or at least the ones who were fully conscious).

Monet knew she should have been concerned, her friend could have been seriously hurt, but something about Monique’s grin as she danced towards them made her beam instead.

“Tens. Tens. Tens across the board!” She yelled as her friend pranced, resulting in the filthiest look from the receptionist, letting them know it was their time to leave.

“McDonald’s?” Monique looked back and forth between her friends once they had left the front doors, clearly unbothered by their haphazard appearances and the fact she had broken a bone.

The rest of the group didn’t even have to answer her question, simply beginning to walk in that direction without discussion, laughing like they had no cares in the world.

Only as the hours tipped on towards dawn and Monique reached out to hold Monet’s hand, it burned red hot where a pretty girl’s Snapchat username has been written. A face embedded into her brain that wouldn’t disappear no matter how hard she tried, a mystery left waiting for her to solve.

***

“Rise and shine!” Nina sang to her best friend, earning only a grunt in response.

“Why are you here so early?” Brooke winced at the sunlight seeping from her window, putting her hand to her throat and grabbing a glass of what she assumed to be water from the nightstand.

Nina guessed by the look on her face after taking a swig that it certainly was not water.

“Because I didn’t want to miss breakfast!” Nina pulled a greasy brown bag from her backpack and waved it in Brooke’s face, who perked up as if by magic. “You should be grateful, I had a right hassle getting this! I nearly ran over some drunk girl with a broken arm just running through the drive-through away from her friends.”

“I’m eternally grateful.” Brooke budged along and patted a spot for Nina to lie next to her.

As much as she hated the drama of nights out and the pounding headache that stopped her productivity the next day, Nina had really missed hungover food and gossip sessions with her friends. It just wasn’t the same without them at Uni.

“So?” Nina looked at her friend, ready and eager to hear what had happened with Vanessa, taking a sip of her drink in anticipation.

“So…” Brooke trailed in response, raising an eyebrow to her friend.

“Did you and Vanjie talk?” Nina couldn’t wait any longer for Brooke to start, spitting her sentence out in one breath.

“Yes.” Brooke looked at her with a gaze Nina had never quite seen before, despite their years of early mornings and late nights of spilling secrets and stories. “But that can wait. What can’t wait is the fact that you managed to pull the girl you’ve had a crush on for ages. Let’s talk about that!”

“Oh. That was nothing.”

Nina was telling the truth. Or at least she was if nothing meant the best kiss of her life. If nothing meant that she could still smell Monet’s perfume when she was getting her breakfast that morning. If nothing meant that she went to bed grinning from ear to ear, the image of the girl pulling her closer a carousel running circles through her head. If nothing meant that every step she’d taken on her way home last night felt as if it were on air rather than the pavement. If nothing meant that she had finally felt like the protagonist of her movie, being granted a night of magic by some special force in the world.

“Nothing? Did you at least get her Snap?”

“Na.” Nina brushed her off.

It wasn’t a lie. Technically she hadn’t gotten Monet’s username - she’d given Monet hers. Yet when she woke up that morning she didn’t have any new requests. She’d be lying for real if she said her heart hadn’t plummeted. It was normal. It happened all the time. That’s what she always told Yvie whenever she was ghosted. Only Nina couldn’t stop the horrible feeling of a knife twisting into her heart that came whenever she checked her phone and saw no notification. She knew it was silly, that it was just a dumb kiss in the club, but she couldn’t help but feel stupid; like she’d been some sort of fool for believing something special had happened to her, a fool for thinking that confident girls like Monet who breathed fire would want to chat to awkward ones like herself who let themselves drown in rain.

“Well, you can just follow her on Insta then. I mean you stalk her enough anyway it’s about time.” Brooke pulled her phone to her face and started to type, a flurry of panic running up Nina’s spine.

She knew that there would be no follow back.

“It’s fine!” Nina raised her voice almost too much, her friend flinching slightly at the volume. “Honestly Brooke, I just want to forget it.”

Nina knew she couldn’t forget it if she tried. She couldn’t forget it if she paid for someone to erase her memories like they did in the films. She couldn’t forget it if she was hit on the head a dozen times.

She wondered if Monet even remembered it at all. Or had she just decided not to think about it, having probably done it many times before, something normal to her. Nina didn’t know which of these options would be worse. She guessed she would never find out.

“I’ll let it go if you give me the last bite of your bagel,” Brooke teased and Nina obliged (having lost her appetite to the wonderful diet technique known as anxiety anyways).

“Have you heard from Yvie then?” Nina asked, trying her best to change the conversation, to think of anything but Monet.

Monet and her kisses.

Monet and her voice.

Monet and her mouth.

She wasn’t very good at this.

“She texted me this morning,” Brooke responded. “Said she was sorry she left. She went for a wee and ran into Ja’mie—apparently, we were gone by the time she got back.”

“Fair enough,” Nina smiled, knowing that she too was responsible for Brooke being left alone. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Brooke thrust her phone into Nina’s hands (who didn’t want to begin to question why it was sticky). “You can repay me by helping me type a text to Vanjie. How do you say ‘Thanks for looking after me in my drunken state, let’s all go for food like old times sake then make up and have babies together someday’ without sounding too eager?”

Nina laughed at her friend and began to type into her notes, grateful that her A-Level in English Language had not gone entirely to waste.

If only she could use it to express her own feelings about a certain dark-haired beauty instead of those belonging to her best friend.

***

“Get up! You’re doing my shift tonight.” Monet’s eyes opened to the feeling of a pen smacking against her face, her older sister stood menacingly with another one in her hand, ready to be launched at any second.

“Erm, who says?” She sat up and looked at the time.

There was nothing like waking up past midday to really motivate her to work.

“I said when I picked you and your friends up from McDonald’s at eight in the morning. Or do you want me to tell Dad you spent the night in A&E?”

“Fuck,“ Monet thought to herself. Or maybe said aloud. She couldn’t really tell, too caught up in images of the night (or morning) before flashing through her brain. The memory of a still drunk Monique calling Bob and demanding she take them home from McDonald’s, running away from the rest of the group and into the busy drive-through when they tried to stop her. Sometimes it scared Monet how averse to danger her friend was, having willingly run in front of a beeping car despite her freshly broken arm just so she could beg Bob to save them a fifteen-minute walk.

“Guess I’m doing your shift.”

Monet didn’t really mind that much, she liked working in her parent’s restaurant, finding joy in being able to chat to customers, recommending food and talking all things Caribbean. A big part of her thanked the job for her social skills, making her outgoing and confident when others in her year often struggled to speak to people. Yes, she often wished she’d gone to University like some of her friends, longing to bask in that fantasy of late-night shopping trips and early morning study dates. But she knew it wasn’t really her style, figuring she’d go full time at the restaurant until she found her true calling. Everyone liked to act like there were these big time limits on when everything had to be done but Monet knew they didn’t really exist.

Besides, her job meant she always had enough money to buy vodka Red Bulls for handsome ladies in the club, one particular handsome lady coming to mind.

The smudge was still on her hand.

Some would probably tell her it was fate, that she lost it for a reason. That they wouldn’t have worked out.

But Monet didn’t believe in all of that stuff. Monet was a fighter of fate instead.

Whipping out her phone, she Facetimed her best friend, eager for help on her mission. She thought for a second that she should have called Anthony instead; after all, his eagle eyes knew the most about Monet’s love life. But a part of her just wanted Monique by her side, knowing that she’d never get over her feelings if she continued to isolate that part of her life.

“Hey, girl.” She answered on the second ring.

Normally Monet would have spent a moment or two thinking about how gorgeous her hair looked wet and slicked back or how perfect the purple of her dressing gown complimented her skin, how it hung on her body just right.

Only now her mind was overwhelmed with other thoughts.

“Do you know what page the club photos get posted on, from last night?” Monet asked her friend after a short while of broken arm-related discussion.

“Yeah, I’ll send you the link - but don’t be tagging me in any where I look a mess.”

“Thanks.” Monet flicked through the photographs, examining each one for a bundle of dirty blonde hair or sparkle of blue sequins. “I’m actually trying to find the girl I got with. Gonna see if she’s been tagged, yanno.”

“Oh.”

Monet stopped scrolling, letting the silence linger for a moment before speaking. “Oh?”

“Nothing,” Monique brushed off. “Just seems a bit extra, is all.”

“I just want to find her. Do you think I should post it on the Uni confessions page in case she goes there? Or what if I tweet it? Maybe a tweet is safer.”

“I swear you’ve never been this bothered about a pull before,” Monique laughed through the phone. A laugh Monet knew to be fake.

‘Because I normally want them to be you,’ Monet thought to herself but didn’t dare say out loud. Only not once during the kiss the night before had her mind strayed back to her best friend like it usually did. She didn’t know if that would ever find a girl to make her feel that way again, she wasn’t throwing it away.

“This one’s different, I’m confident about it.”

“Okay,” Monique smiled on the screen, raising her hands in the air in surrender. “But remember you were confident in GCSE textiles when you tried to make a children’s dress from sponges for our coursework. Doesn’t always mean you’re right.”

“Don’t bring that into this!” Monet gasped, the attack on her garment cutting deep almost like an attack on her entire being, earning a chuckle from her best friend. “Imma get going, gotta shower and go to the shops before my shift but I think I’m gonna tweet it. Who knows, might see her again when we go out on Monday!”

“Monday? Bitch, I’ve got a broken arm.”

“You can still wiggle.” Monet winked at her friend before bidding farewell and hanging up the call.

She may not have had a glass slipper to try on every girl in town but she did have all the power of social media on her side, and that would simply have to do.

***

Looking around at the other girls as they made their way through the town centre, Nina couldn’t help but feel utterly ecstatic.

Things had been awkward at first - the lack of contact since the Brooke and Vanessa break up was a huge elephant in the room that no one wanted to address. However, as time passed the awkwardness began to melt more and more, Nina was excited to learn anything and everything she had missed out on whilst the girls were away at Uni.

“It’s just down here I think.” Brooke squinted at her phone and pointed to one of the streets.

“I thought we were going to the Lebanese,” Akeria stated from Vanessa’s side, earning a jab in the ribs.

“Scarlet doesn’t like it.” Yvie turned to face her. “Besides this place is really nice, I don’t know why we’ve all never been.”

“Probably because we don’t have the same taste buds as your highness!” Silky laughed, Brooke muttering some sort of private school girl gag under her breath too.

“You better not go on like that when she gets there!” Yvie shot daggers to the pair with her eyes, only making them chuckle even more. "If one of you even thinks about calling her that nickname you will be drop kicked.”

It was safe to say Nina had missed their shenanigans, a part of her wishing she could rewind time back to when they went for food like this every other week.

She’d missed Silky’s snide comments and Vanessa’s grunting laugh. She’d missed the way that Brooke and Akeria both clapped when they got excited. And the way Yvie tried to act all cool and hard in front of Scarlet but ended off turning into a soppy puppy everything she smiled anyway.

It was safe to say she was grateful to Brooke for organising their meal and catch-up. Not only was Nina getting to see the friends she had missed so much but she was also being distracted from refreshing her phone every five minutes, constantly disappointed when waiting to see if a certain someone had changed their mind and added her on Snapchat.

“Well, I’m excited to try something new!” Nina smiled at her friend, pretending not to be extremely anxious at the fact she couldn’t find a menu online so didn’t already know what she was going to order.

In fact, she still didn’t know what to order thirty minutes later once Scarlet had finally arrived, a round of drinks having already been devoured by the group, the range in the menu making her foot dance nervously on the floor below them.

“You guys ready to order your food?”

Nina didn’t dare turn around, the discernable voice ringing behind her.

The voice she’d let whisper sweet nothing in her ears less than twenty-four hours earlier.

The voice she thought she would never hear again.

She looked aside to Brooke, a devilish grin on her face, clearly proud of her work as Fairy Godmother.

Nina wasn’t so proud.

Her leg began to shake more, placing her own hand on it to try and calm down.

She didn’t do hookups, they weren’t the norm for her. She wasn’t used to just kissing someone in a club, giving them every part of her and more than acting like it was nothing afterwards. She didn’t understand how people just threw themselves all in and then decided it was nothing. There Monet was, most likely thinking that the whole thing meant nothing when it was filling the entirety of Nina’s brain. She was drowning in it.

It was like watching a gruesome video, Nina knew it would only end in tears on her behalf but couldn’t help but take a peek.

Only Monet looked anything but gruesome. Her hair slicked back into a ponytail, her face fresh, the end of the pen meeting her mouth as she took a break from writing.

Never in her life had Nina felt any inclination to be an artist yet suddenly she wanted to paint a portrait of the girl right there, her apron slightly stained and her hand showing the remnants of a stamp that hadn’t quite washed away.

Her hand that Nina had written on.

If Nina was drowning then Monet was on fire.

“What about you, Cinderella?”

It took Nina a moment along with an elbow from her right to realise Monet was speaking to her, just gawking at her like a kid in a sweet shop (Monet was probably a sherbet lemon, bright and fizzy right next to the till. She was more of a chocolate mouse, hiding on a shelf lower down).

‘Just ask what she recommends,’ Nina thought to herself, only the words never came out, her mouth opening and closing like a puppet she couldn’t control.

Brooke went to speak for her but Monet was too fast, a superhero reading Nina’s mind and saving her from the burning building. “My favourite is the jerk chicken, with lots of gravy.”

“Perfect.” She managed half a smile, wishing Monet would speak for her more often. Wishing she’d speak for everyone in the world with her voice so lovely.

Nina felt Monet’s hand leave her shoulder as she walked away.

She hadn’t even felt her place it.

“Well, isn’t that a weird coincidence.” Yvie sipped from her straw and looked up at Nina despite the utter lack of liquid left in her glass.

“Seriously? I told you I wanted to forget it.“ She turned to face Brooke, giving the best attempt at whisper-shouting as she could.

“I know, I’m sorry, but if I told you you wouldn’t have come. You’ve fancied her for so long I wasn’t gonna let you just let it go.”

“Did you ever think that I can make my own decisions, Brooke? You don’t have to dictate my life all the time. I look like such a freak now!”

“Hey,” Vanessa chirped in from the other side of the table. “Nina, she was just trying to help. I saw this thing on Twitter—”

“Scarlet, do you like Lebanese food?” Nina shouted over, interrupting Vanessa’s plea.

“Oh of course,” the girl responded, clearly unaware of the tension in the air. “My family visited the Zahriyeh beach resort last year and the food was to die for!”

“I’m going to the loo.” Nina stood up abruptly, almost knocking her chair over in the process. “Please don’t follow me.”

Making her way into the bathroom, Nina stared at herself in the mirror.

She knew her friends only wanted what was best for her, that she shouldn’t have snapped at Brooke. She just kept reliving her awkward conversation, kept thinking about the add that never came through her phone and wished they would have left it be.

It was okay for Brooke, who had Vanessa and everyone else in their old sixth form falling around her. Or Yvie who had the quickest wit, unapologetically herself every minute of every day. They were the type of girls who people fawned over, who girls like Monet wanted to speak to. Not Nina West who couldn’t say the word “chicken” without having an aneurysm.

Trying her hardest not to cry, she almost jumped out of her skin when the door opened, expecting an apologetic Brooke with her puppy dog eyes to walk through.

How wrong she was.

“Oh, sorry.” Nina looked around and made her way towards the door.

“For using the bathroom?” Monet smiled at her, Nina left unable to think of a response other than the word sorry again. “About the other night—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nina blurted, the fear of rejection injected into her bloodstream. She couldn’t bring herself to hear it, to hear Monet tell her that it was nothing or spurt some lie about losing her username. So she decided she’d do it herself, trying her very hardest to seem nonchalant. “We were both drunk, it was stupid.”

“Yeah.” Monet looked down at the floor. “No biggie.”

Nina missed her smile already.

Breaking a silence that felt like a lifetime, Nina released a breath. “I better go. Wouldn’t want to miss my jerk chicken.”

“Couldn’t have that.” She heard Monet’s voice tail off as she made her way back to the table, reliving their conversation for the entire meal - her mind lost in an alternate universe where the night before was the start of a new journey, rather than the remnants of one that never took flight.

Nina realised then how easier things were as the sidekick.

The sidekick never had their heart broken.

***

Monet was ready to take everything she had previously thought about fate and throw it out of the window when she realised the mystery girl from the night before was sitting in the restaurant, sipping happily on a strawberry daiquiri.

Monet had never wanted to physically be a cocktail before in her life but that didn’t stop her from wishing it at that moment.

Asking their head waiter to give her the order instead, she counted down the seconds until their last friend arrived and she could go ask what food they wanted, slipping into her natural confidence and flirtiness, ready to have a daylight conversation with the girl from her late-night memories.

She was nervous again, awkward. Monet wanted to tell her to breathe and shake it off, settling instead for placing a hand on her shoulder whilst she decided what to order.

Normally when asked for suggestions, Monet told the customer whatever was easiest to make, or whatever was going to waste, never her real suggestion.

She gave it this time without prompt.

It was probably wrong to follow her into the bathroom but a part of her just couldn’t handle the anxious look on her face and wanted to tell her everything was okay.

Monet was never one to shy away for what she wanted, overly-excited that she had found the one that got away, thinking of how much the girl would laugh when she told her about her night, how she lost her username thanks to her stupid best friend’s gymnastics related delusions of grandeur.

Only she never got the chance.

“Don’t worry about it. We were both drunk, it was stupid.”

Monet knew she shouldn’t have been upset, it was the type of thing she’d said to many girls before herself. But a small part of her just wanted to crawl up in a ball and cry thinking of how wrong she’d been, of how badly she’d read their moment of passion.

Monique was right. She couldn’t wait to hear her ‘I told you so.’ Monet guessed things hadn’t changed at all, those few words throwing her back in the cycle she was in before. Maybe fate was a part of it after all, maybe this was simply the role she was dealt, no arguments, no compromises.

“Enjoying the shift?” Bob called on her way out, grabbing some tofu from the bench and shoving it in her mouth.

“Something like that,” Monet sighed, checking the clock to see how much longer she would be hiding in the back kitchen until she was free.

“Not like you to be in a mood.” Her sister looked her up and down, clearly sensing a change in disposition from her usually annoyingly vibrant personality. “You better put a smile on cause I know those girls out there, I reckon they’ll tip you if you’re nice. They went to sixth form, used to host a lot of house parties.”

Monet was taken back for a second, laughing to herself at the thought that the girl she’d spent all day trying to find not only went to her old school but also knew her sister. She was starting to wish she’d looked beyond the three pillars of her best friends at sixth form and branched out that tad more, maybe things would be a lot different.

“Do you know the blonde one?”

“Brooke Lynn?” Bob asked.

Monet didn’t know how, but she knew that wasn’t right.

“No the other one. With the dumb smile.”

“Oh.” Bob realised. “Nina West. She was always real sweet, looking after her friends and cleaning up everywhere at parties. Awful fashion sense though, good god!”

Nina.

Nina.

Nina.

She could have said it again and again until it no longer felt like a name.

“Well, I’ll see you later.” Bob snapped her out of her daydream. “You out again tonight?”

“Nah,” she sighed. “Monday.”

All Monet wanted to do was get drunk and forget all about Nina and Monique and the thoughts in her head, desperate for the next forty-eight hours to whizz past her like lightning.

Only that didn’t really happen, Monet instead spending the entire time holed up in her room, letting the hours drag by until it was time to hit the club with her friends.

She wrongly thought that with every drink the name would slip out of her mind that little bit more, only it slapped her across the face every time she swallowed instead.

Maybe it was because she’d made the mistake of searching her.

She wasn’t hard to find once Monet knew her name, coming up immediately with twenty-seven mutual friends. Scrolling through picture after picture of the girl laughing with her friends, something pained Monet in knowing she could no longer send a request. That her feelings were unreciprocated. She’d told the girl that their hookup was “no biggie” but there she was thinking about the photo she’d seen of her standing on the bridge in town and how she wished she could hold her waist while she stood there.

Monet had a strong love-hate relationship with the internet.

One more shot and there she was again.

Nina West, as vivid as a photograph in her mind, her foot tapping against the floor, her eyes a scene of bewilderment.

She danced to a song she knew and then again to the next until they were all blurring into one and she couldn’t figure out what the words were anymore.

Another shot.

She could see Nina leaving some coins on the table before she left the restaurant, her body something that could inspire poetry.

Just one more wouldn’t hurt.

“You wanna go for a walk?” She heard Monique whisper in her ear, snapping her back to the reality her brain was running from.

She didn’t have to say yes.

The breeze was bitter against Monet’s face as they left the club; Monique wrapped a jacket around her body for warmth.

“What about the others?” She turned back and stopped, feeling her friend’s arm link into her own despite it being her only mobile one.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about them.”

They walked for a while before stopping at a spot by the river, the moon glistening in the water.

Monet watched it flow in silence.

Normally she’d have been scared by the rustling in the trees or the darkness of the night’s sky but those fears were lost in the moment.

“Are you really this upset about a girl you’ve known for a few days?” Monique’s eyes shone in the dark, pools of chocolate around her pupils. They kept Monet grounded. “She’s not even that pretty.”

Monet thought she couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried.

“You don’t get it.”

“But I really want to.”

“It felt different, Monique. I never feel like that, I never get like this. It’s fucked me up. I’ve only ever thought anything like that about…” Monet stopped to swallow, deciding she shouldn’t carry her sentence on anyway.

“About me?” Monique whispered, holding her hand out to her friend, her glittery nails scraping the surface of the other girl’s skin.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” Monet pushed her hand away. “I don’t know, I just thought this was something telling me that things were gonna change. I was wrong, too confident. Like the sponge dress, remember.”

“They still can change,” Monique responded.

Her hand moved to the back of Monet’s head, falling down her hair.

She was hesitant at first, moving towards her friend, slow and steady.

Monet’s breath hitched just before their lips touched.

And then everything started to blur.

Lost in the moment, Monet felt Monique’s free arm move down her back, her own hands gripping tightly onto the hem of her top.

It was happening. She’d reached the pot of gold at the end of her rainbow.

Only the coins weren’t shining as brightly as they did in the fairy tales.

This is what she’d imagined for years, what she fell asleep thinking about.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Every movement flashed by in a second; Monet wasn’t feeling them.

She wasn’t feeling anything.

Then the image of highly arched eyebrows and dusty blue eyes made their way into her head.

Monet didn’t have to say it, feeling her friend pull away in the darkness.

“She’s got you bad, hasn’t she.”

“I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.” Monet ignored what she said about Nina. Their friendship was more important. “I know that you wanted to do that because you thought it’s what I wanted. And I did, by the way, think I wanted it. But I don’t. And even if I did, I don’t need you to make me feel better that way. I just need you to be my best friend.”

“I am,” Monique responded, her voice fighting against a brittle sound. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m always happy.” Monet smiled. It was weird how things seemed to make more sense rather than less when she was drunk. “I don’t need a girl. Granted, it’d be a nice bonus, but it doesn’t matter if I’ve got my best friends.”

Monique hugged her like she only had seconds to live.

Yes, Monet wanted Nina. She wanted her more badly than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

But she needed her friends.

“Let’s get you home and never speak of this again, then.” Monique smiled, holding out her hand yet again.

“Agreed.” Monet clasped it around her own, her balance still off-kilter from all the drinking.

At least she didn’t have any shifts to cover the next day.

“Except when you admitted you were wrong about your sponge dress.” Monique grinned. “That, I will never let go.”

***

Nina had just about managed to ignore Brooke and Yvie’s texts about their meal turned ambush. Of course, it was difficult, she’d even written some stuff in her notes that she wanted to chat to them about once she wasn’t mad, having started typing to Yvie about a question on Pointless before remembering she was supposed to be shunning her.

Except Brooke knew her weakness.

Nina could never hold her poker face against a smirking Vanessa Mateo.

“You’re here before me.” Nina stood in awe at Vanessa, a half-drunken hot chocolate and a plate of cookies in front of her.

When they went to Dublin for a long weekend before everyone moved away, Vanessa had slept through her alarm and nearly missed the flight, spending the entire trip borrowing belongings she’d forgotten from the rest of the girls.

She’d be late to her own funeral.

“Of course I am. Didn’t want to miss out on any of my quality Nina West time.” She grinned and pushed the plate across the table, motioning for Nina to take a seat.  

Nina loved how easy things always were with Vanessa, finding admiration in the way she never complexified her emotions.

It seemed odd at first when Brooke fell for her. She remembered being told about the night they met, going into every detail about how intense and annoying Vanessa had been as they searched for her phone. It always made Nina chuckle remembering how casually Brooke had added “and then I kissed her” to the end of her thirty-minute rant about the girl.

She’d always pictured Brooke with someone who shared some of her qualities, a little cynical, a little stubborn, surprised that she’d date someone so full of energy. But the first time she saw them together she knew that Vanessa was her perfect complement.

It just made sense.

“So, are you gonna tell me why Brooke Lynn really sent you here?” Nina asked after twenty minutes of Vanessa’s intricate questions about her degree.

“She didn’t ask me.” Vanessa held her hands up and pouted her lip. “I know why you’re mad, we shouldn’t have meddled. I just thought I’d show you this.”

Nina didn’t know what she expected to see on Vanessa’s phone but it certainly wasn’t a tweet from Monet, dated the day of the meal.

“This is an urgent PSA: To the girl with the pretty eyes and sparkly jumpsuit I got with last night, I’m sorry I lost your snap. Hit me up so I can buy you another vodka Red Bull and put your dancing to test again x.”

Nina was glad Vanessa was there to pick her jaw off the floor and attach it back to her face for her.

“I saw it that day and showed Brooke. I honestly thought it was the right thing to do.” Vanessa held a hand out to her, warm and honest.

“No, no. It was.” Nina read the tweet for what might have been the fiftieth time since she’d seen it. If she wasn’t so shocked she probably would have signed herself up for the Guinness World Record for fastest reading. “I fucked it.”

“You can always pop up now?” Vanessa suggested.

“I can’t. I was so rude Vanjie, I read it all wrong.”

“So make it right.”

Nina grabbed her own phone for a second before placing it back on the table. “If I was her I’d ignore me.”

Maybe the fairy tales just happened to the princesses because they took chances, they didn’t let fear get in the way. They never told the prince that their feelings were nothing, a mistake. They were unashamed of how they felt and never afraid that it wasn’t returned.

Maybe that’s why Nina had always been the sidekick.

“Well, you don’t know you well enough then ‘cause the Nina I know wouldn’t ignore someone.”

She hated when Vanessa was right.

“Either way, I should probably go talk to Brooke and Yvie. I feel so bad!”

“Don’t change the subject,” Vanessa caught her out. “I think they understand. Besides, those two are gonna be there for you to message and kiki with as much as you like for the rest of your life. Do you really wanna go back after Easter and let this girl forget about you?”

Maybe it was Vanessa who should go for some sort of world record instead. Nina would have put money on a successful career for her in motivational speaking.

Cinderella wouldn’t have even made it to the ball had the fairy godmother not given her a gown and slippers.

All that Nina needed was to borrow her friend’s confidence for a night.

“I guess a message wouldn’t hurt.” Nina pulled out her phone and opened her notes, ready to type.

“As long as it’s not seven pages long like the ones you help Brooke write to me!” Vanessa leaned over and squinted at the phone.

“You know I do that?”

“You might as well wax seal them with your initials, bitch. Sometimes I’d rather she just trusted herself though. Like I’d rather have her tell me ‘Vanjie, I’m a dick but I love you’ full stop than all that poetry bullshit. I don’t know why she thinks she needs to sound all like you.”

Nina chuckled to herself for a moment, thinking of all the times Brooke had handed her a written message to Vanessa and told her to make it “more meaningful.”

She’d always envied Brooke in many ways. But she never really stopped to think that Brooke might have just envied her too.

“Noted.”

A notification flashed on Nina’s screen, her fingers automatically pushing it away so she could carry on drafting her succinct message.

“Wait, who was that?” Vanjie tapped the screen with an acrylic.

Pulling down the notifications bar, Nina’s face scrunched for a moment as she processed what she saw, looking up and making eye contact with Vanessa when she read the message.

Maybe they’d have to call Brooke to pick both of their jaws up from the floor at that point.

***

“The trailers are gonna start in a minute! Where you at??? x” Monet sent her third passive-aggressive text to her friend in a row.

She cursed under her breath, figuring it would be her best friend to convince her to get dolled up to go see a movie and then be late. She’d even begged Monet to walk further to the hipster cinema where you rented a sofa instead of seats - Monet having the entire one to herself for the time being.

“They’re on for twenty mins anyways. Whereabouts you sitting so I don’t have to scramble in the dark? xoxoxo”

Hearing a tut from behind her, Monet replied quickly with her location before putting her phone back in the pocket.

Normally she’d feel weird about being at the cinema with just Monique, sharing a sofa together in the most classic of date settings. Only now she didn’t, something about their kiss wiping away her feelings, picking up that “what if” she’d always had and sending it away down the river they had laid by.

Maybe it would make their friendship that tad stronger.

Just not strong enough for Monet to deal with being abandoned in a cinema. That would need a lot of forgiveness and grovelling.

A glimmer of hope dazzled before her when she heard the door close, making out a figure coming her way before realising it wasn’t Monique.

At least she wouldn’t have to share her nachos.

“Sorry, this seat’s taken,” she called out as the girl made a beeline for her sofa.

“I know.”

Monet could make out the blue of her eyes in the dark room, the cream jumper she wore complementing them perfectly.

This time it was her struggling to find the words as Nina perched her body onto the sofa, her knees tight together, arms smoothing her skirt and hugging her knees.

“I saw your tweet,” she whispered, looking straight ahead at the screen rather than at Monet.

“I thought you thought it was nothing, you were just drunk.” Monet didn’t even try to pretend she was looking at the screen too.

Her heart was racing. Her entire body on fire.

“I spoke to your friend too, she told me you’d be here.”

“Oh.” The frames began to merge together in Monet’s mind.

“I was just nervous to say it before. But that feeling you had, I felt it too.”

Monet placed a hand on the girl’s knee, noticing how her foot was starting to bounce.

She never wanted to take it away.

“I-” Monet started her sentencing only to be shushed from behind.

“We have to be quiet,” Nina whispered.

Monet moved towards her, their lips centimetres apart.

She looked at Nina and could have sworn she saw the flame that was burning in her chest in the girl’s eyes too, lighting up the darkness around them.

“Well, let’s stop talking then.”

[julia-brookes]

Rhys x Reader (My Inner Demons)

Synopsis: You are a university student who is majoring in Computer Science. Not wanting to deal with the hassle of renting a dorm, you become roommates with Ava. You're pretty content with your life... until a handsome demon named Rhys sweeps you off your feet.

Word count: 2760

The college life was not at all like you expected it to be. That glamorous illusion of nightlife and party life was shattered as soon as you arrived to your first class. Sure, you've been to fraternity and sorority parties here and there, but that was only on the rare occasions that you had no assignments to worry about. Your time was quickly dictated by the immense amounts of homework and projects your professors assigned you.

You heaved a sigh, scanning your Introduction to Computer Science; Volume 7 textbook. It would be yet another all-nighter for you. Cans of Red Bull were sprawled out throughout the kitchen table and floor. Your professor decided to give you yet another ten page homework assignment. Good grief, how does the professor have time to grade all these papers? you thought to yourself. A yawn escaped your mouth as you peered at your computer's clock. Oh boy, 3am! Sarcasm dripped from your remark as you typed a stream of code into your program. You were almost done, just another page to go and you would be free from the clutches of the monster-sized homework assignment.

It was hard enough that your professors expected their students to have no social life, but you also had to deal with a handful of quite lovely demons. The sarcasm was strong -- perhaps you should have majored in sarcasm instead of Computer Science. Of course, some of the demons were less trouble than others. Pierce, for instance, never caused trouble. He wasn't a demon of many words and you often welcomed his company whenever you studied for exams. Asch and Leif were another story. Oh boy, did they make you want to tear your hair out -- even more so than your professors. You didn't mind Noi's company, only when he wasn't crying over Johnny.

Rhys, on the other hand, was is different story. He, in many ways, was like your equal. His willingness to learn about both the material you were studying, and you as a person was a breath of fresh air compared to the cliquiness of the university students and the rest of the demons. Rhys was a good man -- er, demon.

4:25 am: you were finally done! You saved two copies of your papers and turned it in. A massive weight was lifted from your chest, and in a blaze of glory, you left your computer and books on the tables and crashed onto your bed.

The morning sun peeked through your curtains, shining directly onto your face. Bloody he-, you almost cursed, turning to face away from the windows. Today was a Saturday, one of your only two days off, and you were going to take advantage of this.

Just as you drifted back to sleep, a loud shriek echoed throughout the apartment. You groaned in agony, not on your day off! Fine, if the universe didn't want you to relax, might as well use this time to be productive. Lugging yourself off the warmth of the mattress, you made your way into the living room. And of course the demons just had to lounge in the living room. Just what you needed on your day off: a circus. It wasn't long before Ava bursted through the bathroom doors, fury burning in her eyes. Something inside you warned you not to ask about earlier.

"Listen up! If I'm going to be your prisoner, then we're gonna have to lay down some ground rules!" Ava turned to each of the demons. Asch was the first to respond.

"As a prisoner, you don't get to MAKE rules." He asserted, leaning into Ava's face. This was going to take a while...

The door rang. Ava turned to you. "(y/n), would you please get that?" You nodded, heading to  the door.

You came face-to-face with Mrs. Oats."O-oh! Mrs. Oats!" you greeted her.

"Oh (y/n), I've been so worried about you!" The elderly lady smiled.

"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Oats! I'll be fine once finals season e-" Mrs. Oats cut you off.

"Oh, no, dear! I heard you screaming all weekend! I was especially worried when I heard you screaming for three hours straight!" You blinked in confusion, only to nod along to her story. "I almost forgot! Do you think you could bring this to your grandson for me? You always deliver things on time and I appreciate it so much." She held up a finely wrapped gift box, you laughed awkwardly in response.

"Sure, I can do that." You took the box from Mrs. Oats.

"Oh thank you, darling! Now, what were you screaming about last night?" She questioned you.

"Oh! you heard? I'm so sorry!" This was awkward. You knew that the professor's homework would often cause you to scream and pull your hair out, but you never knew that you were that loud... "My professors have been assigning a lot of work recently an-"

"(Y/n) look! I figured out how to put clothes on!" Rhys lifted his arms out to a t-pose position, motioning to the sleeves on his shirt. Pierce was not far behind him, with a perplexed look on his face.

"No one saw him do it and he won't tell us." Pierce remarked. As much as their company was appreciated, or tolerated, now was not the time. You did not want anyone to get the wrong idea. But Rhys continued/

"That's because it was a test from the sorceress and I passed again." A smug look washed over Rhys's face. Oh, you really wanted to smack them right now.

"Shoo! Not now!" Your brow instinctively furrowed in annoyance as they turned the corner, leaving your sight. You turned to face Mrs. Oats. "ahaha, yeah..." Something glistened in Mrs. Oats's eyes.

"Oooohhh, I see what's going on here," She winked at you. and of course, she got the wrong impression.

"N-no, really! It's just from my homewo-" Mrs. Oats winked at you again.

"ah, I was young once too. I'm glad to see you're in good hands!" She smiled.

"Prisoner!" You heard an authoritative voice behind you. "Get over here now!" Asch ordered. ohno.ohno.ohno.ohno. Thoughts  wurred in your head.

"I'm sorry, gotta go!!!" you slammed the door shut, only to hear 'I was wild once too, no shame if you've got game!' fading into the distance. "Bloody hell!" You ran into your shared bedroom. The last thing you needed was for your classmates to start thinking you were a nerdy girl with a wild side. All you wanted to do was to get your damned degree.

You returned to the living room; the first thing you witnessed was Ava hugging her knee in pain. Your attention was turned to a cat, one you've never seen before... Rhys was the first to break the silence, suggesting that the other demons learn how to put on their human clothes. You spoke next.

"Er, right... I have to put mine on. I have something for Jake..." You trailed off before returning to the bedroom as Ava followed you. You debated whether or not to tell Ava about Mrs. Oats before letting it all out. It needed to be said. Ava was sympathetic and patted your back while comforting you from your embarrassment, after all, Mrs. Oats had a tendency to... spread the word around to anyone who would listen. You heaved a sigh before getting dressed and heading out to the living room.

"All right guys, here's what's going to happen." Ava clapped her hands. "Rhys, you're going to come with (y/n) to deliver this present since you were the one to figure out human clothes the fastest." You stared at his figure, and wow, was he well dressed. Perhaps you never realized it, but his human clothes suit him well. They were classy enough for even the preppiest of college students, but also contoured his muscles beautifully.

The others let out low groans as you made eye contact with the brunette demon. You flashed him a small smile before you heard a subtle 'not fair' from Pierce. You couldn't help but giggle at  his jealousy.

"Don't worry, Pierce, I enjoy your company just as much as I enjoy Rhys's." You winked at him flirtatiously. When did you get this confident? Only the universe knows.

Before you knew it, you and Rhys were off into the city. You were eager to make the visit quick, you wanted to cherish the time you had with Rhys. "come on, Rhys, let's go before Mrs. Oats's grandson gets any ideas." You motioned to him to follow you. Rhys squinted for a second before asking for you to elaborate.

"Ideas? What do you mean?" You stopped in your tracks before turning to him, wondering how in the world you were going to explain what you were implying without making the conversation awkward. The clock was ticking, and you scrambled for an explanation before settling on changing the subject. To your luck, The Ice cream truck was right there, calling your name.

"ICE CREAM!!!" Your outburst came as a surprise to Rhys, who stood there on the sidewalk, watching you knock some kid over to order the goods. Oh boy, and were you out of breath, perhaps you were not in the best of shape, but you were too laser focused on the task at hand: order ice cream.

"Ah, (Y/n)," the truck keeper smiled, turning towards you. You slammed a ten dollar bill onto the table. "Can I get my usual please?" The man laughed as he turned to fetch your order. "actually make that two, I deserve it after those dang professors decided to torture me with--" you shuddered "-- math, ew..."

The clerk turned around with your ice cream. He took note of the male behind you before excitedly remarking: "oh, it's for a friend! Then it's on the house!" You blinked in confusion and turned around only to plant your face into Rhys's chest. Damn, he may not look it, but he's ripped! It was almost enough to distract you from the clerk's remark. Though mildly offending, you couldn't deny free ice cream. You thanked him before handing Rhys his ice cream.

"Come on, let's go eat." You motioned him to follow you again as you led him to an empty table-for-two in he park.

You never realized how graceful Rhys was. The way he carried himself was one of a dignified nature but there was something comforting about his aura. You felt as if you could let his guard down around him, to completely expose yourself to him. The two of you talked for what seemed like hours about human culture. Rhys nodded his head, taking in this new information. Every minute you spent with him felt like seconds...

Your eyes met Rhys's for a moment. He was squinting again; it was a quirk of his that you noticed. He would often do the same when you explained the concepts that he questioned when scanning the Computer Science textbooks. You couldn't help but giggle. Rhys looked up from his ice cream, shooting you a questioning look.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, tilting his head to the side -- another quirk that you noticed when he didn't understand something. It took you a moment to think of what to say.

"Sorry," your eyes soften, "I couldn't help it. I noticed that you squint a lot when you take in concepts." You could have stopped there, but before you could stop yourself, out came the words: "I think it's cute." Shi- I really just said that out loud huh? Oh well, might as well own it, right?

"Why, thank you, (y/n)." He flashed a smile. "There are still many things I still don't understand about humans and their culture..." Rhys continued. You smiled.

"Well then, I'd be happy to answer your questions.... But first: try the ice cream, it's melting." You pointed to his hand. Rhys took a bite out of his ice cream. His eyes lit up immediately.

"This is amazing!" Rhys's eyes widened before finishing the whole thing. To be frank, you were quite taken aback by how fast he finished. You finished yours soon after.

"Let's go, I want to make sure the others aren't giving Ava a hard time." Rhys stood up from his seat, offering you a hand up. Muttering a small "thank you", you took his hand and helped yourself up.

As the two of you were about to leave the park, an idea flew into your head. You wanted to spend more time with him, some alone time; you wanted to get to know him better. Perhaps out of nowhere, you had the urge to call out to him, to ask him to spend some time with you... you called out to him, "Rhys, let's take a detour..." you smiled up at him. "May I have your arm?" Rhys squinted again.

"Yes, but, why?" He cocked his head to the side in confusion as he offered you his arm. You simply winked and wrapped your arms around his. It was then you realized just how muscular he was. His toned arms held your own stuck-like arms stable against his. It was a comforting sensation, you felt safe in his arms...

Meanwhile, Rhys was realizing many things on his own as well.... Your touch sent a shiver down Rhys's spine. It was a rather odd sensation, one that he hasn't felt in a long time. He attempted to my no mind to the feeling, but something about this just felt right. The demon tried to logically access this situation, wondering what would have caused this feeling, and why.

"Where I'm taking you is a secret, one for me to know, and you to find out." you said, escorting him further into the park. It didn't take long to reach your destination: the fountain. Rhys looked at you in confusion as you detached yourself from his arm. "This is a fountain, I'm sure you've had something similar to this in Daemos..." you reached into your pocket for two quarters. "I wanted to teach you another lesson about human culture before we returned home." You cast him a somewhat bittersweet smile before placing the coin into the palm of his hand. "Now, I want you to think of a wish... something you want to come true..." Rhys closed his eyes and mused in silence before fluttering his eyelids open. "Did you make a wish?"

"I did," he replied. "What do I do now"?" He questioned you, staring at the silver quarter in his hand.

"Throw it into the water, like this..." you closed your eyes, focusing your thoughts on your desires. Perhaps you weren't happy with your major? Or perhaps you wanted a certain someone to come into your life? There were so many things to wish for. But for now, you focused on one wish and one alone.... you opened your eyes, giving your quarter a determined smile and tossed it into the base of the fountain. The silver coin skidded across for a few bounces before landing in a spot, creating a rather large, for a coin, ripple.

Rhys studied your actions before trying it on his own. He threw his coin into the water, creating a splash. He was still rather confused. You sensed this, and began: "Humans throw coins into wells or fountains and make a wish. Legends say that if you're lucky enough, your wish will come true." You tried your best to explain to him a rather childish concept. Thankfully, Rhys understood.

"What did you wish for?" Rhys asked, perhaps out of curiosity.

"That's for me to know and you to find out. Your wish won't come true if you tell it to others..." you quickly explained, offering him a lukewarm smile. Rhys's curiosity seemed to peek.

"Then will my wish ever come true?" You couldn't help but giggle. His questions were similar to those of a child's, and it was adorable.

"Someday... maybe all our wishes will come true...." You contemplated your wish before turning your attention back to the fountain. "We should go, Rhys."

"You're right, (y/n)," Rhys offered you his arm to escort you home. Heat rose to your cheeks as you gracefully accepted his arm.

You were unsure of what the future would hold, or where your friendship with Rhys would go, but one thing was for sure, you would cherish this memory.... this day off...

[bladengineer]

Bladebreakers: College Edition

anyone who’s already read my fics knows exactly what i’m about, so lets get straight to business about the college headcanons im about to slap yall with

also all under the cut bc this went way too long lmfao Hilary and Kenny should follow shortly bc it got really long and im just. oops

Kai is the first to go which is like. logical considering he’s the oldest and most driven out of all of them

not to mention he had the entirety of Hiwatari Corp. about to be put into his name as soon as he reached 18 and he’s just like aw man here we go

to be honest? he’s not keen on taking over the company, never has been (excluding the time where he felt obligated to under his grandfather’s influence) and the thought of actually having too just kinda. embitters him

so he gets himself sucked into the whole Business classes to get himself the necessary qualifications – and despite being bitter, he doesn’t half-ass shit so he studies on the regular

it isn't until Max wrangles him into finally giving his own interests a go and he changes his path to a History Major with a Minor in Business

he is so much happier

History, specifically Ancient History, had always been an avid interest in Kai’s books so he basically dives into his new studies with his own brand of stoic enthusiasm

its also the sole reason why he’s been amassing so many books in his personal collection at home, Hilary had implored him to buy bigger shelves after Max nearly broke his neck tripping over a loose pile

Kai likes to study alone, preferably in his private study (Tyson keeps making fun of him for having a private study at the age of 18, what are you, a grandpa? damn rich kid lmao) with soft instrumental music playing – he’s especially fond of rainy ambience music

of course, Kai is often seated at the back of the classes, but is indisputably one of the best students with very insightful and well-researched essays, naturally, most of his professors adore him

except a select few traditional-minded professors – they’re still bitter that Kai stood his ground when they had overlooked Cleopatra’s history and reduced her to the Ancient Sex Symbol and Kai was ready to cut a bitch at the blatant disrespect towards an Ancient Political Mastermind

the majority in his class has a fat crush on him but thats nothing new

Max, for a long time, had a bit of a dilemma as his parents urge him to start choosing his preferred path; was it going to be Engineering like his Mother or Mechanics like his Father, and honestly? the poor boy was so torn

in the end, he confessed he wanted to do neither – he loved Beyblade but it wasn’t something he wanted to dedicate his life to forever

instead, his heart had always belonged to the ocean and he dreams of being a Marine Biologist

his father was very supportive, while Judy had her doubts so it took a little convincing – in the end, her son’s joy was more important to her and she too gave her blessing for him to pursue his dream

Max goes on to major Zoology, directed towards marine animals, and takes up a minor in Engineering because hey, it pretty much runs in his family and it stayed an avid interest of his

his university wasn’t too far of from Kai’s own, so sometimes when he stays over at Kai’s he gets a free ride to class

he returns the gesture by always providing the best butter croissants for breakfast (they’re still warm too!)

Max usually studies in the campus library, noise-cancelling headphones on, bopping silently to whatever music he’s listening to as he reviews his notes for the next exam

he researches a lot for his topics and has collected so much trivia about the ocean and its inhabitants in general

Max: did you know jellyfishes have no brain? Kai: Max don’t bully Tyson Tyson: excuse me?

the professors love Max tbh, he’s always fully engaged within class so they usually let him get away with things mainly bc he’s just their Favourite

pretty sure half of the university knows of Max in some way or another, being a social butterfly and all and maybe having flooded the campus once by accident

Ray also had a hard time deciding what to do and what to study; being from a rural village with traditions certainly made him question wether he should pursue a modern career or stay within his community

the White Tigers were quick to kick his ass over it however, booting him straight to Kai’s doorstep and telling him to do what he feels was right for him

now, he’s managed to get himself applied to one of the prestigious university for culinary arts – he’s not too sure yet which path he wants to take in terms of culinary skill

he loves cooking and working in a kitchen, however after many work experiences he has found that working at the command of someone else wasn't exactly to his tastes, not to mention, he’d like to dabble in more traditional culinary arts

as of now, Ray particularly enjoys the sweeter side of cooking, preferring to create intricate pastries and confectionaries, often stemming from his chinese roots but also applying his skill within the japanese side of things

his homemade mooncakes are honestly to die for

next to his obvious passion for cooking, he’s also taken up classes in horticulture, mainly bc he’d love to grow his own ingredients and create his own sets of spices and various artisan products

since his career path is very labour focused, he often practices at home and takes inspiration from various chefs all around the world. his bookshelves are full of recipe books and general insightful cookbooks

Max had suggested to him to make videos of his dishes, mainly for self-improvement, but also being able to put them online to start a crowd interest for his work

its going pretty well actually, his videos have become quite popular since they are aesthetically pleasing, the food looks tasty as hell and also a wide crowd of older people have voiced their joy in seeing more traditional confectionary being made

his friends secretly love their birthdays nowadays bc without fail, Ray always gifts them homemade foods, from neat boxes of handcrafted chocolates to cute jars of sweet jams

he knows, he always takes time to create flavours he knows they will appreciate

Tyson, surprisingly, knew exactly what he wanted to do, and it wasn’t anything to do with Beyblade

Hilary: WHAT ARE YOU SICK Tyson: i- no? i just– Ray: hold on maybe he’s running a fever Tyson: would yOU GUYS JUST LISTEN–

look, he loves Beyblade, it’s something he’ll treasure all his life, something he’ll still pursue in the future, but

it won’t be what he wants to do full time

instead, he majors in Anthropology in order to pave his way into Archeology and everyone is so proud they start crying

next to his Major, he also minors in Business, mainly due to his longstanding position within the BBA, with whom he stays as a particular poster boy and star

next to his work with the BBA, he occasionally helps out in the Dojo and everyone kinda realises? that this guy is literally holding down two (2) whole jobs while also studying and if that isn't hardcore my dudes i don’t know

then again, he’s grown a lot and his interest in his father’s career had always accompanied him since he was a kid – however, his studying habits are still all kinds of atrocious and the only reason why he can even halfway ace his exams is bc he refuses to go down quietly, actually is really critical and analytical is he puts his head into it, and the fact that he employs Hilary to stand vigil with a rolled up magazine to smack him back into focus should he slack off

otherwise, he’s friends with most people in his class and regularly exchanges notes with them and even has become a favourite with a select few of his professors

most just find him exhausting but can’t refute his elaborate essays, which are both thoughtful as eyebrow raising

he attends the same university as Kai (much to his chagrin) and they stick together just as much as they bicker (one-sidedly) just like old times – however, they are both ancient history buffs and its one of the very few topics that they can be heard talking about in actual peace without Tyson going apeshit when Kai loses interest in the conversation

Tyson and Kai are also those college students who pull ridiculous all nighters to study

Max once got so nervous for an exam he made a terrifying concoction of Red Bull and Instant Coffee to stay up and study

he aced the exam but he cannot for the life of him remember what he did in those 24hours bc as soon as he went home he crashed for nearly 32hours straight

Tyson and Ray who were present at the time refuse to speak about it and when asked about it, they kinda just. disassociate for a minute at the sheer horror they had witnessed

Kai rarely ever communicates with classmates yet somehow gets always invited to all the frat parties

who are those people? he doesn’t know

[hellevator-mp3]

timeless

Pairing(s): Jaeyong, Johnten, Jihancheol

Genre: Slight angst, fluff

Word Count: 2900+

Warnings: None

Author Note: as usual, this is unbetaed because we die like men dflkghd uhhh if you see any mistakes or weird tenses, please let me know!

and just like chewing gum (or rather, ring pops) this is a prequel to show jaeyong's backstory for of chaos and calamities, but you can read it as a standalone story as well!

"i can’t do this anymore. this-this hiding thing, not being able to tell my friends that i’m completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with you” the words kept running circles in taeyong’s head, long after his best friend and lover had walked away. now, he could only hope that he could run fast enough in the future to catch him again.

°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°

if anyone had asked what jaehyun’s plans were for the day, he surely wouldn’t have said “oh, nothing much, just studying biology alone with my ex because the rest of our group ditched us”.  no, if it were up to him, he would be laying in bed watching reruns of his favorite show, or at the gym.  he was skipping leg day to watch his ex pour a red bull into his already overly caffeinated drink and -- wait, what?  

jaehyun snapped back to the present just in time to hear the splash of the canned drink as it was poured into his iced coffee.  with eyes round like saucers, jaehyun reached forward and grabbed at taeyong’s wrist, but not before the last dregs of the drink were spilled into his cup.  for a moment, the two of them stared at each other and tried to ignore the energy pulsing between them.  without a second thought, jaehyun withdrew his hand and watched as taeyong nonchalantly stirred the mixture, taking a sip, before chugging the whole thing down in one go.  

now, jaehyun had known taeyong since their freshman year.  he had never seen him chug a cup of coffee or an energy drink that fast, nonetheless the two together.  he pushed the thought aside as he instead focused on his notes, forcing himself off the thought that he didn't know taeyong like that anymore.  

they worked in near silence for a bit, going over their previously done work together with small comments here and there, correcting the form of a sentence or where a formula was written wrong.  it took a while for the amount of caffeine to hit taeyong, and jaehyun paused for a second when he saw the other's hands beginning to shake.  without saying a word, he got up and went to the counter, ordering taeyong’s favorite muffin, a banana, and a bottle of water.  he hoped that the combination would help ease the way taeyong’s hands were shaking, and was mildly pleased with the look of surprise on taeyong’s face when he set the full plate on the table in front of him, directly over the notes that he was looking over.  

without a word said, jaehyun pulled their shared notes over to him, as well as the textbook that lay sideways between the two of them.  he began to check over his notes, and then eventually pulled taeyong’s towards him as well, adding and taking out information wherever necessary as taeyong finished off the food and drink.  

by the time they left, there was a full set of notes for them to copy and print for the rest of their group, and they left one another in silence as they headed home.  taeyong’s phone felt heavy with jaehyun’s number in it once more, along with the knowledge that it was saved under “jung jaehyun”, and not under one of the many nicknames that taeyong once had for him.  

--

“you can’t just ignore it, jae.” johnny was the voice of reason a week later, sitting alongside yuta, who were two of jaehyun’s closest friends.  “you have to tell him eventually.”  jaehyun snorted, shoveling another mouthful of whatever slop lined his tray - meatloaf? pasta? the world may never know.  he sure as hell didn’t.   with one last glance across the cafeteria at the table where taeyong sat surrounded by his friends - their old friends - he smiled wistfully at johnny.  “if only it was that easy, john.  he wouldn’t listen to me anymore.”  johnny and yuta shared a look, before returning to their lunches, gears already turning away in their minds.  jaehyun pretended that he didn’t glance up at taeyong every once in a while, acting as if he was scrolling through social media instead.  

he couldn’t deny, however, the shiver that wracked his body when taeyong glanced back at him, with a strange look in his eyes that jaehyun couldn’t decipher.  

--

across the canteen from jaehyun, taeyong was settled in between some of the members of his friend group.  jonghyun (who insisted that they call him jr to set him apart from the other jonghyun’s in their school) sat to his left, with seungcheol to his right, followed immediately after by his two boyfriends, jeonghan and joshua.  they were the only five there at the moment, leaving nearly half of the table empty.  after receiving a text that the others wouldn’t be coming for lunch, taeyong and jr moved to the other side of the table, which gave both sets of people ample room to spread out.  

the only disadvantage was that this put jaehyun, who was across the canteen from him, directly into taeyong’s sight, and vice versa.  taeyong listened idly to jeonghan talking about their plans for the weekend, his eyes drifting over to jaehyun without thinking about it.  he must have spaced out, because joshua snapping his fingers in front of his face was the next thing he heard.  “so are you gonna talk to him, or are you just gonna stare like a lovesick fool?” his tone was slightly snippy, but taeyong knew he meant nothing by it.  

in response, he sighed, resting his cheek on his folded hands that lay on the table.  his verbal response came out muffled, and jr grabbed a small chunk of his hair and gently pulled him up.  taeyong grimaced, letting a dramatic moan of pain slip through his lips.  the sound attracted looks from other tables around them, but taeyong just wrenched jr’s fingers from his freshly dyed silver hair.  “there's no reason to talk to him now.  we're just partners in class, not partners in life.” he replied, his eyes drifting back to jaehyun - who turned almost at the same time, their eyes locking.  

when jaehyun finally broke his gaze, taeyong whispered “not anymore, at least.”

the other four shared a look, knowing what had to be done.  

--

taeyong and jaehyun had known one another since they were teens, having gone to the same high school together and only getting together in their junior year.  jaehyun knew that their relationship would be a secret for a while - taeyong wasn't yet out to his friends or family, while jaehyun was.  that wasn’t a problem for jaehyun.  he kept their physical contact short, only kissed taeyong behind locked doors, and never let his stare linger too long.  for a year, that was enough to keep jaehyun sated.  

however, problems began popping up after their first anniversary, just as they were heading into their senior year of high school.  they often had late night talks, saying that once they graduate they would room together in college and that would be that.  maybe taeyong would be able to come out to his friends, then, since they were planning on furthering their education in a different city.  they spent months and months studying for their exams, and saving up for application fees and down payments for a dorm - then it all went downhill.  

they went to a party together on a normal friday night, dressed to their best and walking with linked hands, but only as soon as they were out of sight of taeyong’s parents.  jaehyun hadn’t been able to wipe the pleased smile off his face as he listened to taeyong blabber on about a new track he had been working on, not even when their hands naturally fell apart just before they arrived at the block that johnny, taeyong’s best friend, lived on.  they could feel the vibrations of the music halfway down the street, the front door stood wide open and dancing bodies visible through the open space.  the two didn’t even bother finding johnny, taeyong instead guiding jaehyun to the kitchen with a gentle hand on the small of his back.  his touch was withdrawn as soon as they stepped into the significantly less crowded kitchen, and taeyong rifled through the fridge to find them two sodas to mix with one of the many bottles of alcohol lining the countertop.  

it wasn’t long before jaehyun was leaning into taeyong’s side on a long couch, drink held precariously in his hand and threatening to spill at any second.  taeyong laughed at some joke that he told, grabbing the other’s drink before it could spill and leave a stain that johnny would never be able to explain.  when jaehyun leaned forward to leave a small kiss on taeyong’s cheek, the elder pushed him away with wide eyes, motioning silently to the other people in the room.  it was then that jaehyun truly realized the magnitude of their relationship, of the situation that they were in.  taeyong watched in silence as jaehyun seemed to ice over, his mouth clamping shut as he scooted over to leave room between them.  he snatched his drink back from taeyong, almost as an afterthought, and threw the rest of it back with no hesitation.  taeyong could only watch as he got up and went to get another drink, stumbling back towards him with a half full drink a few moments later.  it was only when jaehyun mumbled something about needing to go somewhere quieter that taeyong finally unfroze, gently grabbing his wrist and dragging him upstairs to one of the guest rooms that he had claimed as his own.  

after unlocking the door, he led jaehyun to the bed, and allowed him to sprawl all over the navy blue covers as he locked the door behind him, throwing his jacket off into the corner, and sitting down next to jaehyun.  he looked over his boyfriend’s face, taking in every little detail.  a bad feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, one that seemed all encompassing and like it would take over the world if it could.  

little did taeyong know, it soon would take over his world.  

drunk jaehyun was a filterless jaehyun, taeyong had found out over his time of knowing the other.  therefore, it wasn’t a surprise when jaehyun began venting over the little things that had happened in his life, before suddenly jolting upright and staring at taeyong with a gaze that seemed to intense to be anything but sober - but the quiver of his lip and slur of his words was enough to let taeyong know that jaehyun was anything but sober.  “why are we still doing this?” he muttered, words thick as they came over his tongue.  taeyong’s voice came out gentle, asking what the problem was, and jaehyun just shook his head, seeming to change his train of thought. “i can’t do this anymore.  this-this hiding thing, not being able to tell my friends that i’m completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with you” was the next thing out of his mouth.  taeyong froze once more, only being able to watch as jaehyun got to his feet and bolted for the door, unlocking it quickly and slamming it shut behind him.  taeyong went into overdrive, rushing towards the exit in search of jaehyun.  the younger boy was nowhere to be found.  

--

it didn’t take more than an hour of texting and calling jaehyun to realize that his texts and calls were no longer going through, and he couldn’t get a hold of him through other social media.  the bold “you’ve been blocked by this person” on jaehyun’s twitter page sent a bolt of pain through his body as it finally sunk in that this was it.  this was the end of the best thing that had ever happened to him.  

jaehyun had even gone so far as to transfer schools to avoid taeyong.  it wasn’t a surprise, honestly, since most of jaehyun’s friends went to their rival school anyways.  over a year and a half after the incident, taeyong had found himself sitting across from jaehyun for their project, and didn’t know how to deal with himself.  

--

so how he, jaehyun, found himself standing in front of the door to taeyong’s dorm a few days later, he’d never know.  all he knew was that the older had sent him a text, asking to meet in his room to go over part of their notes.  jaehyun didn't question it, considering that they had a test next week over the notes that they had taken, and they needed to be perfect.  jaehyun knocked lightly on the door, listening for the telltale sound of feet coming towards him.  the door swung open, taeyong standing behind it with black dye on his head, and one of his stained gloves pulled off so he wouldn't stain the door handle.  he motioned for jaehyun to come in, telling him to ignore the smell that lingered in the dorm.  

jaehyun looked around a little, seeing familiar photos and decorations that taeyong had brought from home.  he felt a pang in his heart as he saw a particular frame that still housed a photo of them from one of their trips to the park in their younger days.  all thoughts of taking notes and revising left his brain at the sight.  taeyong noticed his gaze, laughing a little when he saw what had caught jaehyun’s attention.  “even after all these years and all we’ve been through, i still can’t get rid of it.” he mumbled, eyes flickering up to meet jaehyun’s, who had been watching him closely.  jaehyun’s gaze drifted back to the photo, his feet slowly following suit as he reached out for the frame, picking it up gently and gazing at the photo inside.  it was probably from middle school, given that they both had their natural hair colors - they had both dyed their hair in high school - and they had their arms wrapped around one another.  jaehyun remembered the day it was taken, not in specifics, but in feelings.  he remembered the feeling of the sun on their back, of the burn he got on his knee from sliding down the slide and rolling off the end (the burn that taeyong kissed, because he swore it would make it better), he remembers the feel of taeyong’s squishy cheeks under his hands as he teased him.  

“can we talk about it?” jaehyun uttered, his voice shaking slightly as the memories brought back a torrent of feelings that he thought he had covered up.  taeyong replied with a small ‘yes’, causing jaehyun to let out a shaky breath and set the photo down, turning to taeyong before he could lose his nerve.  “it was true, what i said that day, about being completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with you.  it’s still true, as much as i wish it wasn’t.” he let out a sad laugh, before his head tilted down so taeyong could no longer see his face.  “i regretted it the moment i said it, the moment i walked out, and i’ve regretted it since.”  taeyong barely caught the rest of his sentence as his voice slowly tapered off, and jaehyun watched his feet come into view before taeyong was throwing his slender body into jaehyun’s arms, grasping tightly at him.  

he could hear taeyong breathe a sigh of relief.  “i regretted it too, not holding you back, that is.  i watched you walk out of the door and out of my life and didn’t do a damn thing about it, and i’ve regretted it since then.  and i’m sorry for never telling my friends, at least.” taeyong murmured into jaehyun’s shoulder, where his face had inevitably ended up buried.  jaehyun was shocked, to say the least, as he slowly wrapped his arms around taeyong’s small frame and pulled him closer.  

that is, until taeyong’s dye wet hair touched his cheek and he jumped back with a small shout, causing taeyong to drop to his knees and laugh.  he watched as taeyong bustled off to rinse his hair out, coming back with water wet hair this time, drying it off with a towel.  when he was done, he used the towel to wipe off the dye from jaehyun’s face, although it still left a blue mark.  even after he had wiped the dye from jaehyun’s face, his hand lingered, and before they knew it, they had locked eyes and were leaning in, eyes fluttering shut and their lips about to meet --

then a door slammed not even ten feet away, and they jolted apart.  a glance to the side revealed jeonghan, taeyong’s roommate, standing in the doorway.  he stuttered out an apology, alongside a sneaky glance at taeyong, whose face was flushed red.  

the two of them burst out laughing as soon as the door clicked closed, leaning on one another for support as they laughed until their lungs hurt.  it was then, and only then, that they finally shared their first kiss in close to two years - jaehyun’s hands settled on taeyong’s waist, and taeyong’s arms around jaehyun’s neck.  it was like time had never passed as they settled into a rhythm, their bodies pressed together and hearts beating in sync, it seemed.  

--

the first time they sat together with all of their friends, it was nothing short of awkward.  seungcheol and his two boyfriends had staked their claim on three consecutive seats, leaving taeyong and jaehyun to sit next to each other, while johnny and yuta sat next to them.  johnny had also dragged along his new boyfriend, ten, who was coincidentally on the same dance team as taeyong.  

and jr? oh, he sat between all the loving couples, silently gagging and making faces back and forth with yuta, the only other single person at the table.  

[machihunnicutt]

whoops i kind of failed fic-vember (so have an Anne fic)

Hey ya’ll. Finals happened and then the holidays happened and I gave up on the last week or two of fic-vemeber. Here’s an Anne fic to say sorry.

Like My Heart is Hitting the Ground

(Or read on ao3.)

Anne had been firm in her demand not to work the same shifts as one Gilbert Blythe. She’d managed to get away with it, most of the time, eyieng the schedule every time her manager made it and adjusting her availability as needed. Her intense dislike of Gilbert (Diana called it a grudge but Diana wasn’t there at the inciting moment) began his first day on the job, when, while she was dusting a new batch of scones with powdered sugar, he pulled her braid and called her “carrots.” He got a face full of powdered sugar in retaliation.

But it was Christmas (and therefore winter break at the university) and Anne and Gilbert were the only two in town to run the shop.

“This will work out just fine if you stay over there and I stay over here,” Anne said, gesturing to the imaginary line that divided the back of Avonlea Coffee and Bakery.

Gilbert’s dark eyebrow rose into the mess of curls that fell over his forehead. “So I take all the orders and you’ll make everything.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“What if you need help with something?”

“I won’t,” she said, tightly. “I can handle myself.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, Anne,” Gilbert said, meeting her eyes. She hated it when he did that. It reminded her that Gilbert Blythe wasn’t bad to look at. He had a crooked, self-satisfied sort of smile and his gaze was effortlessly warm and guarded by long lashes. And if she was being completely honest with herself (which she wasn’t, she usually counted on Diana for honesty) he was entirely her type: big knitted hand-me-down sweaters, dark cuffed jeans, Converse, messy hair, and a plastic watch with a million pre-set alarms. Anne was attracted to exclusively nerdy wannabe hipsters.

Gilbert Blythe had apologized for the carrots incident, profusely in fact, but Anne wasn’t in the habit of trusting too easily.

“Good, then count the cash in the register and I’ll wipe down the counters,” she said.

“The spray bottles are on my side.”

“Fine, will you please hand me a spray bottle Gilbert Blythe?”

“Why do you do that?”

“What? Say please?” She crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet firmly on the tile. Her apron had a few leftover stains and one of her braids was starting to come undone, but she maintained her show of authority.

“Call me by my full name, like it’s some sort of comic book name,” he frowned.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” she replied.

“You know, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Peter Parker, Charles Xavier...Gilbert Blythe,” his mouth quirked up into half a smile and Anne rolled her eyes.

“Give me the bottle, Wonder-boy,” she said, and he obliged. “And to answer your question, I’m just trying to maintain a professional work environment.” She began wiping down the countertops, briskly, with the intention of ending this conversation.

“Could’ve fooled me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

Anne had started working at Avonlea Coffee her second semester as an education major at the university. Her scholarships covered housing and a good portion of her tuition, and Marilla and Matthew had sent her off with enough money for textbooks, but she realized her summer job savings weren’t going to cut it the hard way. The second week of spring semester her card got declined when she was buying groceries. Luckily she was there with Diana (angel among men), who covered for her. The next day she sent out a slew of applications. Now she’d been at the shop for two and a half years.

“Welcome to Avonlea Coffee and Bakery. What can we get started for you?” Gilbert’s smile when greeting customers managed to hide the bags beneath his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re open on Christmas,” the woman at the counter said. She was the twelfth to say so in the last two hours. Nevertheless, Anne had a steady stream of orders to make.

“If you want to switch, let me know,” Gilbert said, halfway through the shift. It was the third instance of Wham’s “Last Christmas” on the shop’s holiday playlist and Anne was tired.

Gilbert was counting the remaining scones in the case. They were down to five and she desperately hoped she wouldn’t have reason to put in another batch.

Outside it had begun to snow, big white clumps that reminded her of walking in Green Gables, at dawn when the snow was heavy and untouched, blanketing the grass.

She hadn’t been back to Green Gables since school started, though she called Marilla and Matthew at least once a week. She’d tried to get them set up on FaceTime, but neither was technologically savvy enough to complete a successful video call. The longer she was away the more her gable room showed up in her dreams: fluffy white comforter that smelled of lavender and detergent, tiny wood desk where she’d studied for her slew of AP exams, Marilla’s lacy curtains that just managed to keep the sunshine out in the morning, and of course the cherry blossoms outside.

“Do you have a ride home? Or are you walking in all that?” Gilbert asked. He looked out at the icy sidewalks and she watched his jaw tighten.

“I’m walking, but I’ll be fine. Thank you,” she replied.

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to...”

“What brings you to the Christmas day shift, Gilbert Blythe?” She interrupted.

“Oh,” he blinked. “Well, I could use the extra money.”

“You’re not going home for break?”

He shook his head and looked back down at the scones. “My dad died earlier this year and I...I sold the house, so I don’t really have a home to go back to. I have a friend back in my hometown, Bash, who invited me to stay with him and his wife for the holidays, but I thought it would be easier and cheaper to just stay here and pick up some extra shifts.”

“I’m sorry,” Anne said. “I didn’t know.”

He laughed nervously. “It’s fine. It’s good to be here when campus is empty, I can catch up on studying. Pre-med and all that. What are you doing here, Anne?”

“My...Matthew, my guardian, is sick and we don’t really have the money to spare for me to fly home. He’s fine, getting better I know, but having a whole big Christmas at home would be a lot right now and I didn’t want to cause my adoptive parents any trouble. Of course they protested.”

“Of course,” Gilbert smiled. “Who wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert?”

Anne rolled her eyes and turned away to restock the paper cups and hide the blush spreading over her face. The shop was just warm. “Are you all alone then?” She asked, after a moment.

“My roommates have all left for home, so yes,” he said.

Anne thought about Gilbert Blythe all alone in his apartment, pouring bowls of cold cereal or opening cans of Red Bull, or whatever sad, lonely, study food he ate.

“Well, if you like you can join my roommates and I. We’re all still in town and decided to do our own Christmas. They’re both working today too, so we saved the gift giving for tonight.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be,” she shot back, suddenly hell-bent on keeping Gilbert Blythe from a Christmas alone. It was sad enough not to have a home to go back to. “Join us, please.”

The front door bell dinged and another wave of customers came in out of the cold, putting the conversation on hold for a moment.

“What do you think?” Anne asked. It was nearly closing and she was halfway through cleaning the espresso machine.

“Okay,” Gilbert said. “If I can drive you.”

“Deal,” Anne said, extending her hand to shake his.

“You’re on my side,” he said.

***

Gilbert Blythe started work at Avonlea Coffee and Bakery at the beginning of his junior year. It was his second job. He worked assorted evenings at the automotive garage down the street from his apartment, and divided his remaining time between a full schedule of classes, homework, and the occasional handful of hours of sleep.

The day he met Anne Shirley-Cuthbert she had flour on her freckled nose and was expertly crafting a latte. She didn’t pay him any attention as their boss trained him, and continued to effectively ignore him the first shift they worked together.

“Do you know Anne very well?” He asked his co-workers during their break. Billy and Charlie were vaping in the alley beside the shop. He sidestepped clouds of vapor and tapped his foot.

“She’s bossy. She’s worked here forever,” Billy said. “I hear she’s got a whole orphan sob story. I’d keep my distance if I were you.”

“Not much to look at anyway,” Charlie put in.

Gilbert considered this for a moment. “Well, I should be getting back.”

“We have five more minutes,” Billy said.

“I know, I’d just rather spend my break inside, and not with you two.”

He tugged on her braid to get her attention. Childish? Absolutely. But he couldn’t think of another way, and he’d never purported to have the best judgment.  

He hadn’t worked with Anne much since, but he’d seen her at the end of her shifts, when he took over for her. She was great with customers; she knew all the regulars by their orders and their names. She added special touches to all the cakes she decorated: buttercream roses, dainty chocolate work, tufts of spun sugar. And Anne always looked pretty in a way that he had to try really hard not to stare at all the time. When it was warmer she wore long, flowy, floral dresses that fell to her knees and clashed with her heavy work boots. In the winter she wore the same dresses with tights and cardigans and long scarves wrapped around her neck. Her hair was almost always braided. He’d seen it down once, curled on her birthday when their boss had brought her a box of her favorite lemon cupcakes.

“You can turn here,” Anne said. She was in the passenger seat. Her dress was red with tiny black flowers. The navy cardigan and coat she had over it nearly swallowed her small frame. “My house is on the right."

This was a pity invite, he knew, but there was still something exciting about Christmas with Anne. Maybe they were turning over a new leaf.

Anne scooped up the box of discount pastries she’d salvaged and led him up the steps to her house.

“Anne’s home!” He heard a call from the kitchen and a woman with dark hair and unevenly cut bangs looked back at them. She was stirring a pot of something that smelled like apples and cinnamon and she seemed to be Anne’s stylistic opposite: heavy eyeliner, dark turtleneck and pencil skirt, nose piercing, and ruby red lipstick. “Oh, hello. Who’s this?” She said.

“Diana Barry, this is my co-worker Gilbert Blythe. Gilbert, meet my roommate Diana.”

“Gilbert,” Diana repeated, giving Anne a look Gilbert couldn’t read. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he replied.

“He’s joining our band of stranded misfits for the evening,” Anne said. “If that’s alright.”

“It’s alright with me. Just be warned that Jerry’s on his third glass of rosé already, and quite torn up about his most recent breakup.”

“Jerry’s an international student. His family's in Paris. He doesn’t fly home for breaks usually,” Anne explained.

“And my family’s abroad in London,” Diana said. “A trip they planned before they knew I’d paid for January term classes already. Either way, it’s much nicer to be with my lovely Anne.”

“It’s much nicer to be alone together,” Anne concluded.

“Alone?” Came a strangled howl from the living room.

“Anne, will you tell Monsieur Heartbreak that this apple cider will be done in five minutes and he better have his present for me wrapped by then?”

Gilbert followed Anne into the living room to see her other roommate sprawled face down on the couch. He turned his head toward them when they came in and moaned.

“Anne of Green Gables how could you bring a new beau to this sacred gathering of singles?”

“He isn’t,” Anne said, at the same time as Gilbert said “I’m not.”

Jerry rolled onto his back and put his head in his hands. “I am destined for suffering.”

“Wrap your present for Diana. Cider’s ready in 5 minutes. This is Gilbert, my co-worker. Please refrain from regaling him with stories of the many sorority girls who have broken your heart until I get back. I need to get my presents from my room.”

Diana brought the cider and offered Gilbert a glass of rosé, which he accepted along with the ten minute recounting of Jerry’s failed relationship. Anne came back and sat next to him on the couch. They all had wine and cider and cookies that Anne made with a recipe from home. Diana ordered pizza and over the exchange of gifts Gilbert learned a number of things:

1) Diana was a music student who studied classical piano for class but made her own songs on synth and guitar in her spare time. She came out as a lesbian last year and went to her first Pride with Anne that summer. Thus her gifts from Anne and Jerry were (respectively) a framed photo of Anne and Diana covered in glitter with bright grins and pride flags, and a pair of musical note earrings.

2) Jerry was an English major, despite the fact that he was dyslexic and it was his second language. He met Anne freshman year in their professor’s office hours and had had a spirited debate about Jane Eyre, which they continued over lunch every week while she edited his (otherwise excellent) essays for typos. He had the unfortunate habit of falling for sorority sisters and writing them embarrassing poetry that often found unsympathetic audiences on ex-girlfriend’s Instagrams post-breakup. Anne got him a mug covered in Brontë quotes and Diana got him a journal and a mood ring she insisted was stuck on “love struck.”

3) Anne’s friends really cared about her. They got her a joint gift, a silver heart locket that made her face light up when she opened it. “For all your love, kindred spirit,” Diana said. Gilbert couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Could you do the clasp for me?” She asked him.

“Of course.”

Anne swept her curtain of red hair from her neck and Gilbert undid the clasp and put the necklace on her. He had some trouble doing the clasp up again because his hands were suddenly very sweaty and Jerry, seated next to Diana and thoroughly drunk by now, started laughing as Gilbert could feel his face heating up.

“I’m cutting you off, Jerry,” Anne said as Gilbert finished with the clasp. “I’m going to put on some music,” Anne said. She rose to her feet and turned around to look at the three of them. Her form was glowing in the light from the kitchen and her hair became a halo of orangey light around her head. “Any requests?”

Gilbert shook his head dumbly and Anne disappeared into the kitchen.

“Mon amie, you are gone on her. I can tell,” Jerry said. He got up with Diana and the two of them began swaying to the song Anne had chosen.

“I’m not...I don’t...”

“Oh leave him alone,” Diana put in. She winked at Gilbert.

Anne had returned. “What do you think? It’s my usual playlist.”

She outstretched her hands and pulled him up off the couch. “Do you dance, Gilbert Blythe?” She asked. Her face was flushed too, no doubt from the wine, and she held him by his waist.

“Sometimes...” he muttered.

“I’ll have you know that tonight means nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“The scheme of things meaning you’re always going to be angry with me?”

“If you keep giving me reasons to be,” she said, but she was smiling.

“What song is this?” Gilbert said. His head was buzzing.

“It’s called Townie,” Anne said. “I put Mitski on all my playlists.”

“We rotate,” Diana said. “Whenever we’re all together and need to play music.”

“Like at work,” Gilbert said.

“Like at work,” Anne repeated.

There's a party and we're all going And we're all growing up.

Anne swayed close to him. “I’m sorry, again, by the way. For pulling your hair like a grade schooler. I really didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with you.”

Somebody's driving and he will be drinking And no one's going back.

“You didn’t?” She asked. “I was sure Billy and his goons had turned you against me.

'Cause we've tried hungry and we've tried full and nothing seems enough.

“Billy’s a dumbass."

So tonight, tonight The boys are gonna go for   More more more.

“Well I guess we can agree on one thing.”

And I want a love that falls as fast As a body from the balcony, and I want a kiss like my heart is hitting the ground.

I'm holding my breath with a baseball bat, though I don't know what I'm waiting for. I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be.

The rest of the night blurred out in a haze of laughter, dizzy dancing around the living room, and Jerry pulling him aside to lecture him in slurred, half-French about the perils of love.

“Merry Christmas Gilbert Blythe,” Anne said, as she saw him off.

“Merry Christmas.”

***

The next week Anne and Gilbert had more shifts together. When it was his turn to pick the music Anne heard Mitski on his playlists, in between his old music.

“Why is it that all of your music sounds like it belongs in a 50s diner?”

“Hey, I don’t complain about your music.”

“Yeah, because my music’s good,” Anne said. She was assembling a batch of macaroons as quickly as she could. Since Christmas they’d been engaging in a number  of competitive games. Right now it was timed macaroon preparation. Yesterday it was who could make the most complicated latte art.

“I’ve got to beat you now since you beat me yesterday.”

Gilbert leaned against the counter beside her. “What did you expect, Anne? A doctor has to have steady hands.”

“Yeah, yeah, time! How fast was that, Gil?”

“Gil?” Gilbert repeated, smile growing wide on his stupid face. “Since when do I have a nickname?”

“You don’t! I...didn’t. Did I beat you?”

Gilbert glanced down at the time. “You got me, Anne. Well done.”

As it had turned out, Gilbert Blythe wasn’t the absolute worst. The past couple of times they’d worked together she’d let him drive her home. He had one of those tree shaped air fresheners hanging from his mirror; it smelled like apples and cinnamon. He always cranked the heat up to make sure she wasn’t cold, though she never was. That’s what Gilbert Blythe was becoming to her: apple cinnamon and warmth, wrapping her up as he turned into her driveway.

“Do you have plans for New Years?” He asked.

“Diana’s spending the night with her girlfriend and Jerry’s with his French friends. They both said I could tag along but I don’t want to feel like the odd one out,” Anne said. She’d been the odd one out against her will for years; she wasn’t about to do it voluntarily.

“Well, if you want...I mean I was going to ask you if...uh, if you wanted to come to my place for New Years, in exchange for Christmas.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know that. I’m just...” he flushed. “Asking, Anne. I didn’t really have a plan. Pizza, probably, and champagne, watching the festivities on TV.”

“And at midnight?” She met his eyes.

“At midnight I can drive you home,” he said quickly.

“Okay,” Anne said, before her brain fully processed what she was agreeing to. She didn’t want to ring in the new year by herself, not when every day of the past year had been nothing but work (good, rewarding, exhausting work) and the coming year promised more of the same.

“Okay?” Gilbert replied. “That easy? I thought I was going to have to bribe you.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

Diana insisted that Gilbert Blythe’s invitation was more than it seemed.

“He obviously likes you,” she said, sprawled on Anne’s bed playing Nintendogs on her beat up DS.

“He’s my friend,” Anne said, flipping through the hangers in her closet.

“Then why are you so concerned about your outfit?”

Anne sighed.

“It’s okay if you like him too, you know?” Diana sat up and looked at her. “I know you think you don’t have time for romance, with school and work and Green Gables, but you deserve something all consuming and tender and warm and...” Diana trailed off. They’d known each other for years. Maybe Diana knew her better than Anne knew herself. “I don’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Thank you. Happy new year.”

Diana hugged her goodbye. Anne stared at herself in her bathroom mirror and debated whether or not to put on red lipstick. When she was younger she’d look in the mirror and hate her face: mud splatter of freckles, tired eyes, fiery hair framing her features. Now she and her face were on better terms. Would lipstick tonight be overkill? She looked at herself intently. An all consuming love, that’s what Diana had said. Anne smiled, and put on the lipstick.

***

Anne sat cross legged on Gilbert’s couch with a breadstick in one hand and wine glass in the other. He tried not to grin.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” She said, but she was smiling. There was a crescent of lipstick on her glass’s rim. “I thought you were making dessert.”

“About that...” he said, taking a seat beside her. He held up a package of Oreos. “I’m not much of a baker on my own time.”

She laughed and selected a cookie from the package. “I’ve got you beat in the desert arena then. I make pies back at Green Gables.”

It was 11:30. She’d spent part of the night teasing him for the poorly hidden heap of laundry in his bedroom and overly animated voice on the phone when ordering pizza, part of it playing cards and watching TV with him at his living room coffee table, and part telling him stories of Green Gables.

“I’m sorry my New Years is so boring,” he said. On TV crowds were huddled in the snow, waving noisemakers and throwing confetti.

“It’s not,” she said. She moved so her shoulder was pressed to his on the couch. “Thanks for having me. It’s nice not to be alone. I wanted to have the holidays at home this year. I feel like all I do is work and go to class now, like I'm racing to an invisible finish line. It’s hard to be away. And with Matthew sick I...anyway, thanks.”

"And what if you get to the finish line and it isn't everything you thought it would be?" Gilbert added. "I know the feeling." He sucked in a breath. “It’s the first holiday without my dad,” he said. “I’m glad I’m not alone either.”

Anne put her hand over his. It was small and warm and he didn’t move a muscle for fear she would take it back.

“What’s that song?” He muttered. “That Mitski song, from Christmas?”

“It’s called Townie,” she replied.

“Do you want to listen to it? Would you dance with me, Anne? Like at Christmas?"

She looked over at him and smiled. “It’s nearly midnight, Gil.”

He’d become Gil, so quickly, without either of them knowing. He’d become someone she looked at softly. She’d become someone who made his heart feel like it was jumping around in his chest.

“But okay,” she said.

He didn’t know when the clock struck midnight. He was swaying with Anne in his living room. Her head was on his shoulder. His heart was hitting the ground. When the song was over she tilted her head up to blink at him.

“I have to work tomorrow,” she said. “At 7, But I don’t even care.”

“Can I kiss you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert?”

“Yes, Gil, you can.”

He did, and she kissed him back. He took her face in his hands and kissed her for a long time. It still felt too short.

“You have lipstick on your face,” she told him. Her own face was flushed and her lipstick was smudged. “Happy new year.”

“Happy new year, Anne,” he said. He could hear fireworks, but it could just be in his head. It was a firework kind of night, new year or no new year.

“It’s going to be a good one,” she said. “I have a feeling.”