#the row from the logical song to take the long way home is SO fucking good. big fan of casual conversations too

[beann-e]

Haikyu! Characters With A Shy Manager

Inarizaki Boys With A Shy Manager

tw” joke about ‘offing’ ones self & also overbearing parents

Read Part One Here

osamu

-osamu is someone who’s laidback and doesn’t show his anger much except for when his brother pisses him off and right now Atsumu was nearing the edge of his brothers patience

“ I don’t care what you do as long as your happy “

“ if thats what you want to do then who are we to stop you “

your eyes traveled as you watched osamus mouth quirk up in a small smile before turning into a frown at his brothers face

His body ignoring him and looking to you awaiting your answer his eyes speaking as if your words could change his decision

“ uh I— I don’- “

“ who cares what yer think “ atsumus voice came out in a yell as he turned to his brother

“ are you stupid why would you leave all of this — why would you throw all of this away “ he moved to point to everything in the gym and the balls that sat idle after a match theyd just played and won

“ this can provide for a family — life after high school ‘samu and you want to “

his face came up in confusion “ and you want to leave it all for a restaurant how — why— why would that make sense to you — it’s stupid “

you felt your body go slack as your face dropped into a pout at atsumu’s claims . Throughout all the times you’d seen them argue this had to be the biggest one you’d ever seen take place in front of the team.

You felt horrible your mouth wanted to open to try to protect osamu seeing as he was the only one who put effort into trying to speak with you.

Ever since you joined the team no one could really understand why you were so quiet except for osamu who would sit next to you during breaks and lunches that he’d share his food with you after you finished the bento box he’d made you

your heart tore as you watched him look to the ground ‘ just say something ‘samu please if this is what you want then tell him — it’s your life ‘

“ have you ever stopped and thought about how this may just be what you want ‘tsumu “

atsumus yells stopped as he heard his brothers voice and head pop up to target him

“ maybe this isn’t something I feel my talents are best used for “

he stood with his eyebrows furrowed in determination “ I like food — it makes me happy just like volley’ makes you so — I don’t care if it’s hard and not as easy as volleyball is for me right now —I want to do what my minds telling me to do “

he huffed “ and that’s to cook and open my own restaurant“

he moved to walk over to his brother to get closer with both his words and body “ and don’t you ever yell at them like that again you probably made them piss their pants “

he calmed himself down as he looked his brother in the eyes “ if your nice now “ he huffed out putting his arms into a hold across his chest “ maybe I might just give you a free meal when I open my restaurant “

Everyone’s body turned in shock and fear when they looked behind them to see your body shaking mouth being ripped open with a calming laugh as you clutched at you stomach

Everything seemed to slow in the gym as osamu watched your body ripple with the loud laugh that came out. Wondering how you’d held it inside for so long seeing as this was the first time anyone heard you laugh

“ y-y/n why — why are you laughing “

“ how can you laugh at a time like this we’re fighting“ Atsumus voice had calmed down in a state of panic at your new behavior

“ because osuma said you not gonna get any food“ you smiled “ and I know right now you don’t care but I bet when you get older and you see his amazing restaurant with a long line in front your gonna wish you’d sucked it up in this moment so you can take that free plate “

osamus mouth itched as his wide eyes squeezed shut at your bright smile his mouth opening before he could stop himself “ if you believe in me so much please believe I could keep you fed if you date me “

your body froze as everyone now turned in fear from you to osamu

“ Will I get rice for lunch everyday “ you giggled

“ i’ll make you anything you want out of rice if that’s what you like — i’ll even make you a wedding ring out of rice “

you laughed as you shook your head in a yes form “ as long as the foods included and you never give up on your dreams — no matter who believes in them “

your voice was soft “ then yes i’ll date you osamu “

you watched as he smiled widely sticking his tounge out at his brother “ oh now it’s really fuck what you think ‘tsumu— cause your the one who told me food wouldn’t be enough to get them to date me— I should’ve just made them the cake like I wanted and asked ‘em out “

The team all stood in shock as Arans mouth opened and closed before he spoke again “ u-uh how did that even make sense— what just happened “

sunas body relaxed against the wall as he spoke soft and quiet “ osumas quit volley’ to be a chef, y/n believes in him so their dating, and “ he pointed to atsumu

“ and once again Atsumu looks stupid “

Atsumu

-he’s not one who would necessarily get along with someone shy nor do I see him being able to. The way he acts may go two ways it may make the person comfortable or it may just irritate them and make them even more anxious

-I don’t think he’s one to see the signs , he would probably take your uncomfortable laughter as him making you laugh and tell the whole team he finally broke you and got you to laugh

“ atsumu “

The setter called as he threw up a new set for his brother in the two on two practice match. His hand hitting the ball hard in a spike as he won his team the final point

Your body dropping as you immediately knew what was coming “ y/n-san did you see that “

“ y-yes atsumu-senpai “

“ it was cool wasnt it “ he said as he moved towards you

“ y-yes “

he smirked as he slid his hands in his pocket looking down on you as he came to a stop in front of your body “ well when your just a great player like me things like that come easy so you don’t have to worry if I hurt myself or not “

he looked away from you and to the floor but eyes darting up to look at you again quickly “ because I didn’t so yeah — don’t think I did “

you smiled softly trying to think of a way out of this “ I-I didn’t think so “

“ yeah see you know someone like me would never get injured —I have to be a great role model to my sweet little first year“

he patted your head as he sat down next to you feet out in front of him “ don’t go turning into one of my annoying fan girls ok y/n “

“ I won’t “

“ ah you don’t mean that “ he bumped you softly “ you love me—so your loves gonna blind you you’ll see “

“ oh “

“ see you do — and I love you too “

“ dude they dont even like talking to you “

“ oh shut yer trap yes they do their in love with me we’re destined to be together “

“ yeah in death — that’s what your gonna do ‘tsumu yer gonna make them off theirselves by hearing yer loud mouth every single time you win a match “

“ y/n you love me right “

your body flamed as you let out an uncomfortable laugh moving over on the bench “ they look —their laughing because it’s true “

his body stopped “ wait “

you felt as the wheels were turning in his head —a bit slow but they were turning

his voice coming out in mumbles “ if their laughing— and i’m talking— and now their laughing after I spoke —-l”

he yelled “ I MADE Y/N-SAN LAUGH “

he screamed in happiness smile huge “ I made them laugh guys “

he jolted up jumping when he stood before racing over to the group that all turned to look at him “ their laughing guys I — I did it their laughing their laug—“

your eyes darted to the floor as atsumu fell head first into the floor his voice coming out in a whine as he shook coming up to grab his nose in pain before reaching down to rub his ankle that he felt was thumping like crazy

“ y-you lied you did hurt yourself “

he moved to run his hand across the back of his neck “ well when you say hurt what do you me—“

your laugh came out in short giggles as you tried to hide it not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh your head turning to the side as you gave up and laughed into the air

Your giggles sounding like a song atsumu always wanted to play through his headphones when he would walk to school

His body thinking before his mind as he stood up and ran again towards the team “ Guys their — I did it again and you all saw — i’m amazing “

he fell forward again but this time just lying there as he mumbled into the ground

“ their totally in love with me — I made ‘em laugh not once but twice in a row —I got a real shot now“

Aran

-I don’t know much about him because I haven’t finished haikyu! I just know what i’ve gathered from short clips or from what i’ve seen already in the seasons & read in manga but he’s very open minded

-whenever he’s around you he’s always quick to snap and stop someone from telling you that you aren’t allowed to do something because it’s “ not logical “

Your body moved slowly to the gyms exit as you felt a hand come down over your shoulder

“ walk ‘ya home ? “

you looked up face stoic in a slight yes at Arans question

since you’d joined the team as manager you had yet to connect with the other boys only really speaking to Aran and helping him out when he needed it

He came to like being around you because you were a change of pace from his usual one dealing with the twins antics. So it wasn’t that hard to hear him asking to walk you home for the past few nights when practice ran too long

he sighed as he looked down at you “ you never really speak but I feel like your face talks for you “

you looked to the ground as he laughed “ get it because your always stoic —and your face shows noth—ok“

he looked away not hearing your laugh or seeing a smile deciding to cough the atmosphere away “ ok yeah get it “

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to laugh you just couldnt your parents dug into you anytime you went home. Theyd have your head if you didn’t focus only on your studies so, it was hard for you to talk or even be around other people when it wasn’t for class it made you anxious and you weren’t sure how to interact

People took this as you being shy and you weren’t going to explain that you wanted to talk but just didn’t know how

He let his hand fall from your shoulder as the walk soon came to a close him leaving you to walk up to the stairs to your home

“ you may go “ you said softly as he shook his head with a big smile on his face

“ nope not until I know your in your house safely “

you nodded your head as you took a deep breath the door opening before your hand could meet the lock your fathers voice knocking you on your butt

“ who is this — who is he y/n “

“ I-I “

“ I heard more than your voice out here and came to the door “

“ were you waiting up for me “

“ yes you didn’t come home after school today “

“ oh I— there was a math meet i’m sorry “ your father looked away in disgust as you lied

“ your lying to me I called your school and they said you quit mathletes to be a manager of some volleyball club “

you gulped “ I um “

“ why would you do something stupid like that it can’t help you in the future — with your studies “

“ because I um — I like “

you shut yourself up just nodding your head as your father beat into you “ so dumb I thought I raised you correctly it doesn’t matter what you want to do or what’s fun you do what makes you smart and whats logical you do not hold feeli—“

“ I think their happy “ Aran smiled at the scene in front of him “ I think they enjoy being our manager very much “

“ and who told you to spea-“

“ my heart — it guides a person to make decisions ones like I just made — and ones that you made — you want the best for your daughter right “

you fathers actions faltered as Aran continued to press into him “ If you want the best than you have to realize y/n Is tired and she’s not used to friendly interaction — she’s very out of place and uncomfortable around people because she’s only used to school work“

he shook his head in concern “ is this what you want for your child — for your kid to only know how to talk about school and not have a moment where their not spending it thinking about math equations and growing overworked “

“ well I— “

“ on our volleyball team we work ourselves hard yes— but we’ve also become great friends through this hard work we’re happy doing what we do because our hearts led us to do it not our parents “

he looked to you and back to your father as he stood looking up from the bottom of the stairs “ so I ask that you let your child stay on the volleyball team since their heart brought them there to sign up for the job one tuesday afternoon at 3:30 in our gym during our second winning match of the season “

your dad nodded his head in shock as he whispered out an ok

Aran smiling and leaving after waving to you with a short see you tomorrow

Your dad holding the house door open for you as he walked over whispering out to you “ you better marry that boy “ he smiled as he moved through the house

“ he remembered every detail about when he first met you “

[deathonyourtongue]

Resurrection | 10

Summary: A ragtag team of Spec-Ops operators are brought out of retirement for all the wrong reasons. When the dust settles, only the best will be left standing. Pairing: Pablo Schreiber x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (listen, she gets with the whole team, okay? Don’t lie, you would too.) Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Nothing much really. A/N: The one you’ve all been waiting for! 😈

As the unofficial dad of the team, none of us are surprised when Rick floats the tab not only for dinner, but for the strip club afterwards. 

“You gonna give us money for working girls too, pops?” Dom jokes as he shuffles past, collecting the money Rick’s doling out and patting his shoulder gratefully as he does so. It’s the same with the rest of the team, each of us getting enough money for two lap dances if we choose to, although I have a feeling we’ll end up pooling our funds towards the end of the night for a group dance. 

We’re good and liquored up by the time we make it through the doors of Prowler, the bass of the music reverberating through our chest as we file into the VIP area, two bottles of champagne there to greet us. Sitting between Max and Jake, it’s not long before I have a glass in my hand, raising it to toast a reunion none of us imagined possible. 

“To the walking dead. If you two fuckers ever go off on your own again, I’ll personally drag you back and kill you both. Love you guys.” Rick grins as our glasses clink, all of us nodding our agreement.

Before long, I feel a head slump on my shoulder, and looking down, find Jake, eyes at half mast. The realization that this is the first time he’s probably been able to relax since everything happened is a sobering thought, and in that moment, I want nothing more than to drag both he and Benji back to our safehouse and curl up with them until they both get as much sleep as they deserve. Logically, I know this is the only respite we’ll get until Wallace is in the ground, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing for more. 

“You should get up there and show Lil’ Miss Daddy Issues how it’s really done,” Jake grins, giving me a wink to make sure I know he’s kidding.

“As tempting as that is, I feel like my time’s come and gone,” I laugh, shaking my head and earning a raised eyebrow from Max. 

“I’m sorry, I thought I heard you disparage yourself, love,” Max comments during a lull between songs, one hand scratching at his short hair before he gently strokes a lock of mine behind my ear.

“It’s the truth. I’m not built the same way I used to be. And I’m definitely not as flexible.” Giving him an appreciative smile, I stroke his cheek in much the same way I had Jake’s, though Max nuzzles into my touch far more. 

“Bet Max is dying to find out just how flexible you are.” Jake smirks, earning a light swat from me just as one of the girls comes around, offering herself up for a lap dance. 

“If he wants to, it’s his,” I grin at Jake as I hold up my night’s allowance, figuring if I can’t beat ‘em, I may as well join ‘em. 

Both Jake and Max’s eyebrows go up as I shift in my seat, making room for the dancer to grind in my lap. As the music thumps through the nearby speakers, the redhead slowly takes off her top, giving all the boys a front row seat. 

Discreetly watching their reactions, it’s easy for me to spot the fact that out of all the boys, Max is the only one who seems ill at ease with the situation. It confuses me, because a few weeks prior, he was in the same position I’m in, and was only bothered when I took the girl away in favor of dragging him along on this mission. Although I’ll be the first to admit that his behavior’s changed in the last little while, this feels like another level, even for Max; like a breaking point.

Before I can even determine what to do, Jake flashes a $100 at the dancer and pats his lap, giveing me a kid-in-the-candy-store grin. Shaking my head, I’m about to say something, when I feel a tug on my hand. Looking to my left, I find Max standing and motioning his chin towards the exit, looking for all the world like this is the last place he wants to be. 

I shoot a quick look back to the rest of the team, doing my best not to laugh as I find them entranced by three different girls, all of them vying for the attention of men who aren’t over 60 and actually know how to dress. Satisfied that they’re all occupied, I let Max pull me under his arm as we step outside, the comparative silence of London at night one that makes me instinctively shake my head to clear it. 

“Where we going?” I smirk, my voice a little sing-songy as Max looks both ways before jaywalking us towards the direction of the safehouse.

“Home,” he smiles, tucking me back in. Although the stroll through the more historic part of town is a nice change of scenery, there’s no missing the fact that both Max and I are keeping our heads on a swivel, both of us keenly aware of everything that’s led us here. 

Scanning our thumbs to get into the safehouse, I only manage to get my heels off before I feel Max pull me close, our lips colliding gently. 

“Hey,” I murmur once we both pull back for air, my hands cupping his bearded face and forcing his gaze to lock with mine. “Are you sure? Or did I misread and you’re just planning another movie night?” I ask softly, not wanting Max to go any further than he feels comfortable with.

“If yesterday taught me anything, it’s that we don’t often get second chances, and that I may very well have been wasting what could be my only shot. That, and well...I love you, Carmen.”

I must recoil a bit, because a look of disappointment crosses Max’s face. 

“Max,” I start, holding onto his face with just a bit more firmness, not wanting him to assume the worst. “In our line of work--”

“I know all about the superstitions and the old wives’ tales, Carmen. I just...After this I’m out, and I hope you are too. I want to enjoy what’s left of our lives, you know? Don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder forever.” 

“I was out until this happened, so I understand, but Max..Me? Really?”

The tension leaves his face in lieu of a relieved and joy-filled smile, Max pulling me close and kissing me deeply. I sink into his arms, his mouth moving against mine without hurry as he walks us back towards my room. 

I kick the door closed, hearing the woosh of the automatic lock behind us at the same time that Max’s calves hit the bed frame. Smirking, I push him back, enjoying the confusion on his face.

“I’m not exactly Mrs. Robinson, but I just might be trying to seduce you,” I joke, lifting one leg onto the chair across from the bed and slowly pushing down one of the thigh highs I’m wearing while simultaneously putting on some music, hellbent on making his first time as memorable as possible.

I watch Max sit up, his eyes roving over my body as he leans back on his elbows. Never has a man looked at me with more hunger and more love, and I know that tonight will either end quickly, or cause us both to walk into tomorrow’s meeting a little sleep-deprived; I’m hoping for the second option. 

Though I have as many questions as I’m sure all the guys do when it comes to Max and his situation, I put them aside, focusing instead on being present and reading his body language for any sign of anxiety. Swaying my hips in time with the music, I come close enough for him to reach, only to pull away just before he can, sticking my tongue out teasingly as I slowly strip for him. 

I make sure to face him when I drop my bra, not missing the tent in his slacks or the adoring look in his eyes. Max sits up further when I straddle his thighs, his hand slipping up my back as his lips find my breasts on instinct. I let my eyes close as he takes his fill, grinding against him without shame, learning how his body responds to mine. 

Blindly, I push Max’s jacket off his broad shoulders, my fingers finding the buttons on his shirt soon after, a soft inhale escaping me when I feel his teeth gently nip in just the right spot. Raking my hand through his curls, I pull back just enough to admire a body I know he’s worked hard for. 

Max uses my distractedness to his advantage, flipping us around so that my back is against the mattress. I let out a whoop of surprise, laughing softly as I watch him practically tear his clothes off, leaving only his black boxer briefs on, the thin fabric leaving little to the imagination. If the bulge is any indication, he’s big, and I’ve got my work cut out for me. 

I motion for him to come back to me with both hands, and he obliges with a big grin, kissing his way up my body even as he pulls off what’s left of my clothes, leaving only my g-string intact. Neither of us hesitate as we eachother’s lips once more, Max cupping my breasts while I let my hand slip over his bulge, feeling a tingle go through me when he responds with a shiver and a thrust closer. 

Pushing him back so that he’s sitting on his heels, I let my gaze flit between the waist of his briefs and his own blue orbs as I slowly pull down the material. His cock springs out, hard as marble and my eyes go wide, having expected the length, but not the girth that comes with it.

“Suddenly, your call sign makes so much more sense,” I shake my head with a smirk, waiting for Max to tug his briefs the rest of the way off before I take hold of his hips. Eyes meeting his again, I kiss through the thick thatch of hair that leads from his belly button to his base, feeling the jolt of anticipation go through him.

Max cards a hand through my hair as I lick my way up to his tip, a soft sound of enjoyment leaving my lips as I collect the precum drooling from his slit. I can’t help my smile when Max inhales sharply, the reaction making it clear that he’s been honest about never being with anyone. 

Holding onto his muscular thigh with one hand, my other gently cups his sac, rolling gently as my lips seal around his shaft. Max’s breathing increases as every lick and suck brings a new feeling he’s never experienced before. 

“Oh fuck!” He pants out, gripping my hair a little tighter as I take him all the way down, swallowing around his head before pulling back with a gasp of my own. I can’t help but moan as I lick down his shaft once more, popping his balls in my mouth to further tease him. 

I can feel Max get close as his muscles contract, and with one last lick to his tip, I lay back, waiting to see what he’ll do. Max doesn’t hesitate, nearly diving between my legs, eyes wide with need. His enthusiasm earns a giggle from me, one that’s quickly silenced as he kisses over the sheer material of my g-string. Sitting up, I stroke my fingers through his curls, appreciating how good his mouth feels against my most sensitive area. 

A soft moan escapes me when Max pulls the thin fabric aside and lets his tongue slip through my folds, the feeling reminding me of our deeper kisses and causing the same weightless sensation he’s so good at making me feel when we’re cuddled in bed. I lay back, putty in his hands as he lifts my legs over his shoulders, taking off my final piece of clothing as he does. 

“Darling?” Max’s voice is hoarse but gentle, the question in his tone equal parts uncertain and hopeful. 

“Bare, babe. Want to feel nothing but you inside me,” I answer, having already felt the swollen head of his cock brushing against my entrance; it’s one of the most arousing sensations I’ve experienced in a long time. 

With a kiss to my calf, Max pushes his hips forward, groaning softly when he slides in with ease. I can’t help but reach up and cup his face, smiling as I experience the moment with him. Knowing how long he’s waited, I don’t take it lightly, honored to be his first. 

“Feels so good inside you,” he whispers, eyes still wide, as though any minute he’ll wake from his dream. 

Biting my lower lip, I can’t help but roll my hips, grinning ear to ear when my movement elicits a choked noise and a look of utter bliss. The growl Max gives me sobers any laughter, and before I can even open my mouth to squeal, his body is covering mine and his hips are rutting. 

My mouth falls open in utter shock as Max cocoons my body in his arms, his lips searing every inch of skin he can find, while his thrusts push me up the bed an inch at a time. I can almost see stars at the crown of Max’s head as he brings me up so that I’m nearly seated on his thighs, his cock going even deeper and making the breath catch in my throat. 

His lips find mine for a torrid kiss, Max’s pace picking up as he shifts the angle once more, making me moan loudly as his hips grind into my clit while his cock sweeps my g-spot relentlessly. There’s no doubt that Max’s need is primal, born from years of waiting for this very moment. Our gazes meet and I can’t stop myself from cupping his face, seeing beyond the lust to the depth of his feelings beneath and knowing that after tonight, nothing will be the same. 

Max comes with a cry of my name, and I follow suit, gasping and jolting my hips, having never experienced an orgasm as intense as the one he’s given me. By the time he rolls us to our sides, our bodies still connected, tears are streaming down my face. 

Everyone’s heard about the elusive orgasm so good it makes you cry, but I never thought it was true; until now.

“What’s wrong, love? Did I hurt you?” Max’s voice holds a razor’s edge of panic, and though I manage to shake my head and smile, the tears won’t stop.

“I j-just...I’ve never...Y-you love me?” I stammer out nonsensically, burying my face in Max’s chest as I feel his arms tighten around me.

“Yes, darling, I love you. I’ve loved you for a very, very long time. I’ve just been too chicken shit to do anything about it until recently. I love you with all my heart and I’m not sure I’ll be able to spend another day without you.”

I look up as Max brushes my hair off my face, finding his gaze filled with the same tenderness, love and devotion that I’ve seen in his blue orbs time and time again over the years. My face finds his chest as the sobs come once more, Max chuckling softly as he holds me close.

[thirsttrapholland]

Curious: Part One

Requested?    Yes  

By: anonymous

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (College Roommates Au)

Anonymous said to thirsttrapholland:  I’m a sucker for roommate au’s and I can’t help but feel like there would be so much sexual tension to the point where you’re like “are you gonna blow my back out or not??” ((Ik this is an old trope but !))

A/N:  I’ve never written a roommate au before, so it’s a new trope for me.  I was just gonna do a blurb but it started getting kind of long, so here we are.

A/N Part Deux: Could this be my first series?  Will I ever post part two?  Who knows?  Do y’all even want a part two of this?  Let me know.

Warning(s): Mentions of sex, masturbation, Tom being a cocky little shit, voyeurism, adult language

Word count: 2393

Picture found on: Pinterest

Hope you like it anon.  Feedback is always appreciated.

You were sitting on the living room floor with your Econ book and your notes spread out on the coffee table when Tom came stumbling into the apartment backwards, dragging some girl with him.  He had already started unbuttoning her shirt when you cleared your throat to get their attention.

Tom turned around with a phony surprised look on his face.  “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I live here, Tom.”

“Hilarious as usual.  I thought you were going to be out late with your study group.”

“I very distinctly remember telling you this morning that the study group was cancelled and I’d be home tonight.”

“Did you?  It must have completely slipped my mind.”  He didn’t even do you the courtesy of pretending he wasn’t lying.  He knew good and well that you would be home; he just didn’t care.  Or worse yet, he wanted you to be home for this.

The girl with him started buttoning her shirt back up, an uncomfortable look on her face.  She spoke to Tom in a low voice.  “Maybe we should go to my room instead.”

“That won’t be necessary. Y/N doesn’t mind.”  Tom glanced at you over his shoulder.  “Do you?”

You forced a smile onto your face.  “Of course not.”

He turned back to his date.  “See love, it’s fine.”  He punctuated his statement by pulling her into a long, deep kiss.  “Go on back.  I’ll be there in a minute.”  She let out a squeal as Tom smacked her on the ass and sent her back towards his bedroom.  

Tom watched her walk away before turning his attention back to you.  “You might want to turn your music up tonight.  I think she’s gonna be a loud one.”

“They’re all loud Tom,” you said to his back as he started to walk away.  “And so are you.”

Tom’s only response was the slamming of his bedroom door.

You were still sitting in the living room two hours later.  You had tried to convince yourself that you were still studying but the truth was you had been shuffling the same papers back and forth for the last forty minutes. No new information was soaking into your brain; you were just trying to prolong the inevitable.

Not for the first time, you regretted choosing the floor plan that put Tom’s bedroom right next to yours, his bed right up against the same wall as yours. Meaning there was no way to avoid every bump, grind and moan that went on in there.  The fact that discretion was apparently a foreign concept for him certainly didn’t help matters either.

You hoped that since both you and Tom had classes in the morning, maybe, just maybe, he could make this a short one.  One of his classic, wham-bam, shuffle her right out the door, ma’am hit and runs.  Not that it would make much difference to him.  

Tom was one of those absolutely infuriating people that could stay up all hours of the night partying and fucking and still roll out of bed the next day bright eyed and innocent looking as ever.  You on the other hand, would look like a bedraggled forest witch come to steal someone’s firstborn if you didn’t get at least seven hours of sleep.

You knew you were in trouble when you heard Call Out My Name start up for the second time.  When Knockin’ Da Boots came on, you finally had to accept defeat. Once Tom switched over to the 90’s sex playlist, it was definitely gonna be an all-nighter.

You tidied up the living room, took a shower and finally, reluctantly, went to bed.

You tried to ignore it; really you did.  You couldn’t even say for sure which was worse.  The loud music or the giggling and inane dirty talk you could hear in the dead air between the songs– “Oh Tommy, it feels so good”. Oh brother.  You’d called him Tommy once and he’d pitched a fit.  Apparently, it was anything goes when he was getting his dick wet.

You listened to your own music until your earbuds started to irritate your ears.  You tried to create some distance by lying with your head at the foot of your bed.  You even pulled the covers up over your face and put a pillow over your head in an attempt to shut everything out; but nothing was working.

When you glanced over at your phone and saw that it was almost one o’clock in the morning and the music was still pouring out of Tom’s room with no seeming end in sight; you’d had enough.

You were loath to do it but at the very least you needed to ask Tom to turn the music down.  You had to be up by 8 to make your first class.  Then you had to work a short shift at your job in the campus bookstore before taking your Econ exam that afternoon.  Tossing and turning all night so your roommate could have a soundtrack to get his freak on, just wasn’t an option.

You swung your feet over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment to gather your nerve.  You knew Tom wasn’t going to be happy about being disturbed, but he had left you no choice.  You slid on your bedroom slippers and made the short trip from your bedroom to Tom’s.

“No wonder the music was so loud,” you muttered to yourself when you got to Tom’s door and found that it was only partially shut.  Your fist was poised to knock when movement through the crack in the door caught your attention.  It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in Tom’s room, but when they did what you saw made your mouth go dry.

Tom’s bare back, glistening with sweat and moving rhythmically as he thrust into the girl he had bent over his dresser.  One hand grasping her hip so tightly that even at a distance you could see his fingers sinking into her flesh.  His other hand around her throat pulling her head back to him as they exchanged sloppy, wet kisses; grunting and moaning into each other’s mouths.  It was an awkward looking position but neither of the involved parties seemed to mind one bit.

“Of course,” you thought, “he’d be the kind of narcissist to fuck in front of a mirror.”   There were of course only two logical, morally acceptable choices you could have made in that moment.  You could have pressed forward with your plan to knock and beg him to turn his music down.  Or you could turn tail go back to your bedroom, pretending you hadn’t seen anything and try once again to tune him out and get whatever rest you could.

Knowing these things, you couldn’t explain what drove you to a third, questionable at best, option.  You stayed exactly where you were standing.  And you watched.

Your sense of guilt was palpable.  You could feel the sheer wrongness of your actions like a weight pressing against your shoulders. No matter how obnoxious and exhibitionist Tom could be when it came to his sex life that didn’t make it okay to invade his privacy that way.  And yet, you continued to stand there wide eyed and slack jawed watching something you had no business seeing.

There was no defense for what you were doing but there was an explanation.  The one thing that led you to abandon every shred of common sense and decency that you had: pure and simple curiosity.

You’d heard it of course. The begging, the moaning, the gasping, screaming, the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh.

You’d seen the aftermath. The disheveled clothing, sweat matted hair, ruined makeup.  

You’d witnessed the almost puppy like devotion with which some of these women followed Tom around campus none too subtly pleading for the very seldom given, encore performance.

While you would have never admitted such a thing, not even to yourself, you had always been curious as to what exactly he was doing to elicit the sort of responses he got.  And now circumstances had presented you with a rare opportunity and front row seat to find out.

Tom whispered in her hear as the tempo of his movements changed.  His strokes were slow but hard and deep; methodical and deliberate. The movements of someone that had found that spot inside that made you melt and was determined to hit it every time.  You felt a strange prickling sensation in your own spine as she started to whimper and her body went slack.

You were brought out of your thoughts as Tom suddenly stopped moving.  His head cocked slightly to the side as though he had heard something.  Your heart dropped into your stomach.  You wondered if he had heard you or somehow sensed your presence.  If he looked up or turned around there was no possible explanation you could give for why you were standing outside his bedroom watching him have sex.  He would never, ever let you live down such a thing.

You stood frozen to the spot as you anticipated his next move.  Your breathing returned to normal when instead of stopping to confront you or at the very least yelling at you to go away, Tom pushed the girls head down to the dresser and grasped her hips with both hands.  The speed and intensity of his thrusts picked up to the point that the mirror began to knock against the wall as his companion desperately grabbed at the edges of the dresser needing something to hold on to, to keep her balance.

You had been brought back to your senses.  You scolded yourself internally hardly able to believe what you had just done. You had started to move away when Tom looked up, his eyes locking with yours in the mirror’s reflection.  He stared at you for a moment lopsided grin slowing growing on his face.  And then, he winked.

You jumped back; flattening yourself to the wall in between Tom’s bedroom and yours.  Feelings of panic and shame coursing through your body as you practically ran back to your own room.  You closed your door behind you as quietly as you could and jumped back into your own bed wondering what the consequences of your actions might be.

The longer you laid there, however, the more you were able to convince yourself that maybe your eyes had been playing tricks on you.  Surely, if Tom had seen you looking through the crack in his door like some sort of pervert, he’d have already been beating your door down by now demanding an explanation.

You willed yourself to forget the incident; assured yourself that such a lapse in judgement would never happen again.  You had rolled over onto your side determined to will yourself to sleep when you heard your bedroom door creak open.

“Y/N, are you awake?” Any indignation you might normally have felt about Tom coming into your room uninvited was obviously made null and void by the breach of privacy you had committed against him just moments before.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight and hoped that if you didn’t make a sound and didn’t move, he would just go away.

Instead Tom took your silence as an invitation to come closer. You could smell him as he hovered over you; a mixture of sweat and sex that probably should have been disgusting to you but didn’t even come close.

“Did you need something when you stopped by my room before?” You felt like your heart was in your throat. Tom paused giving you time to answer but you didn’t say a word or stir at all.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you but as you could see I was a bit preoccupied.”  He paused again.  “So, nothing to say?”  

It took every ounce of self-control you had not to flinch as you felt Tom sit down on the edge of your bed.  “I’m about 99% sure that you’re not actually asleep.”

You could hear Tom sigh as you continued to feign being asleep.  “At any rate, I’ve been a terrible roommate tonight.  The music has been way too loud and probably kept you awake and I do apologize for that.  I’ll turn it off as soon as I get back over there.”

Tom stood up from your bed but didn’t move away.  You could feel the heat from his body as he stood over you. Even with your eyes squeezed shut you could sense him watching you, looking for any sign that you were indeed awake.

“You know what?  Maybe I was just seeing things and you weren’t standing in my doorway a little while ago. Either way I just want you to know that if you ever need anything or want anything, I’m always just right next door.”  His words were simple enough, but his tone was loaded with innuendo.  “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Your eyes snapped open as soon as you felt Tom retreat from your bedside, and you heard your door opening and closing.  The tension you felt lingered on as you wondered what the fallout from this situation was going to be.  

You dreaded the thought of having to face Tom the next morning.  

True to his word, the music cut off soon after Tom left the room. The loud music was soon replaced however by the rhythmic creak of Tom’s mattress springs and the insistent thump of his headboard against your shared wall.  Moaning and whining coming through loud and clear as if they were in the room with you.

Despite your best efforts, you could feel your body start to react as the sounds you were hearing paired with the images in your mind from what you had seen earlier.  If you were being honest with yourself, you had been turned on since you had taken your first glimpse into Tom’s bedroom.

You gave up and allowed your hand to slip below the waistband of your underwear.  You had reached a saturation point for shame and guilt for the night, adding one more offense to the list was hardly going to make a difference.

“At least,” you thought as you began to rub slow circles around your clit, “this should put me to sleep.”

Those who asked to be tagged: @jackiehollanderr @thoughtsofaredhead-blog @spideyxxboi @greenarrowhead If anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know.

[anythingandeverything1d]

Falling (part 2)

 Part 1: https://anythingandeverything1d.tumblr.com/post/615981743290400768/falling

You looked at your watch, the concert was in a few hours and you instantly ran upstairs to get ready, fighting back the logic your brain warned you about and following your heart. You tore your closet open looking for the perfect outfit, but for what occasion. For the first time in months you softly smiled and let yourself think about the possibility of Harry. The nights that you missed so much, his soft hair in your fingers, his dimples, the way he kissed you, the way he laughed and told horrible jokes, all of it. “Ughhh” you moaned leaning back against the wall. “What am I getting myself into?”

30 minutes later and you had thrown almost every article of clothing you owned onto your bedroom floor. You had decided on black skinny jeans, a white crop top, and your hair had been thrown into a half bun (one of Harry’s favorite looks on you) “ugh what have I actually become” you mumbled to yourself while putting on some hot pink lip gloss and grabbing your jacket off the door. You grabbed the envelope with the tickets and opened the door revealing your friend. She looked you up and down with a suspicious glance. 

“Where are you going?”

“Uhh nowhere...”

“Nowhere?”

“Yep, I better get going..” She grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “You're going nowhere looking like that? Really? You expect me to believe that...” You glanced at the envelope quickly and nodded trying to continue out the door. “Whats this?” She took the envelope from your hand and peered inside. “Oh my god. You are not. Theres no way you are going to Harry’s concert..”

“I need to. Okay. I need to know. I need closure.” You ranted on a quick explanation of seeing him at the gas station and the note on the back of the ticket and sighed. “You don't understand...I need to go. I need to move on.”

“Fine then we are going together. There’s no way Im letting you make a stupid rash decision when he bats those eyes and smiles at you. Nope. If you're doing this, we are doing it together.” And with that you smiled, grabbed her hand and pulled her to the car. 

Harry’s POV:

Harry was pacing the dressing room. His mind was moving a million miles a minute but yet everything was focused on one thing. You. He was sweating, so nervous about what the night would bring. He had specifically chosen the pink suit you had picked out for him so long ago. Paired with the black button down he wore on your first date. He picked the outfit specifically for you tonight and he hoped it would work. Of course he hadn’t ever stopped thinking of you, but seeing you at the gas station had sealed the deal. He needed you back in his life. Even as a friend. He knew he had screwed up. It had only been a few months without you but he was crumbling slowly. He was the one who fucked everything up. He hadn’t been present in the relationship for a while. He had dragged you along for the journey. He would leave and not call or text. And then there was Sarah. He never wanted to cheat but after drinking too much it had happened and of course you had been there to see it happen. Sarah was great and Harry had flirted for a while...but there wasn’t a spark. There wasn't anything that was there when you were in his life. He knew the moment you said goodbye that he had ruined the best thing in his life. He got lucky his show was in town tonight and even more lucky that you still lived in the same apartment complex. He left the tickets and passes but had no idea if you would even show up. He just prayed. “Please (y/n)...please come...I need you..” he mumbled with his head down.

“What?” Mitch asked walking in.

“Nothing.” Harry said looking up. 

“Well 20 minutes till showtime.” 

“Okay. Hey is there anyone backstage looking for me or anyone using a backstage pass left in my name?” Harry asked anxiously.

“No. Not that I know of anyone. Who are you expecting Styles..a girl?” He wiggled his eyebrows and laughed as Clare, Sarah, and Adam walked in.

“Oh what’s going on. What are we teasing Harry about now?” Clare asked.

“A girl.” Mitch answered. 

“Shut up guys.” Harry mumbled looking at Sarah. She had agreed friends was better and he was glad because he felt nothing but that. It was still a little awkward though. “Let’s just go. It’ll be great right? We can do this.”

Your POV:

You and your friend has pushed up to the front where the seats were and you were shaking you were so nervous. Of course everyone acknowledged you as you walked in so it took forever to find your seats but luckily the lights were dimming as you sat down. Smoke rolled off the stage and everyone cheered. You stood up slowly feeling a little light headed. You looked up and he was there. His head down. His pink suit. Hair pushed back in a wave and a small smile in the corner of his mouth. It was too much. You pushed back a few rows to where you were no longer visible and sat down collecting yourself. You just listened to the music. He was amazing. His album was amazing...of course you already knew that because you had listened the moment it was released. He really was a super star. You were proud too because he had waited for this moment for years. 

Towards the end of the concert Harry had begun searching the crowd with his eyes. Scanning row by row until he found you. His green eyes locked on yours. His mouth slight parted and his breathing was heavy from the last song. He curved his mouth up into a smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “There’s a song I’ve been working on. I decided tonight to play it. I hope you all enjoy, Ive worked hard on it.” He nodded to the band behind him and the music started.

“I’m in my bed. And you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands. Forget what I said. Its not what I meant. And I can't take it back. I can't unpack the baggage you left.” His eyes never strayed from yours. You knew what was happening. There were a few songs on the album about you, but this was different. Your eyes clouded with tears and you couldn't breathe. “What am I now, What am I now, What if I’m someone I don't want around. I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.” Harry broke eye contact and looked down. Pouring himself into the words of the songs. You sat on the floor and put your head between your legs trying to breathe. Your friend was rubbing your back. Harry got to the end of the song “What if I’m down? What if I’m out? What if I’m someone you won't talk about? Im falling again, Im falling again, I’m falling.” And with that he bowed and ran off stage. The crowd of people slowly began clearing and you were able to breathe a little better. 

“Want to go home now?” your friend asked still slightly concerned at how pale your face was. You shook your head and stood up, pulling the backstage pass out. You ran to the guard and showed him before following him back. It was only a minute before you saw the pink suit. It stood out in a crowd very easily.

“Harry Edward Styles!” you shout, tears already forming in your eyes. He turns quickly and looks at you slightly stunned, and you continue forward pointing a finger at him. “What the hell was that?” You asked. He looked unsure of what to say. Finally he looked at you and sighed.

“That was my new song. What else would it be?” He sarcastically replied.

You didn’t know what else to say. You just stared at him, your nostrils flaring and his eyes intently watching your every move. Your friend came forward and grabbed your hand. “Come on (y/n), you don't need this.” She gently pulled you towards the door. 

“No.” His hand went out and grabbed your other wrist. “We need to talk.” He looked you in the eyes. “Thats why you're here right? Why else would you come?” His tone was harsh and you had no idea why. You looked at him and then at your friend. Your head was spinning again and you felt like you needed to sit down. You reached for the floor and felt yourself falling . “(y/n)!” Harry’s voice now very concerned shouted. Your eyes fluttered close and you hit the floor. 

Harry’s POV:

Harry didn’t know why he was being mean. He felt angry that you came back just to attack the song he had written about her. That he had poured so much energy and emotion into. When you had looked at him, he saw a slight fear in your eyes. You were scared of him and he didn’t want that. He saw you reach for the floor and your eyes close. He knew this, you were fainting. It was something that had happened a few time in the past. Scared him to death very time. This was no exception. He tried to catch your head and cushion the fall. You had hit the floor and he had immediately pulled you onto his lap and rocked you slowly. “(y/n) wake up...youre okay. Just please open your eyes...” He touched his forehead to yours and breathed slowly.

“This is your fault Styles.” your friend remarked kneeling next to him. “You overwhelmed her. You shouldn’t have even given her tickets. You nearly killed her two months ago. You don't even deserve the chance to speak to her.”

“(y/n)...open your eyes. You’re okay.” Harry ignored your friends comments and hummed softly, his eyes closed and his head against yours. 

Your POV:

Your eyes slowly opened and you heard a low and soft humming. Your head was pounding and you were acutely aware of arms wrapped tightly around you. You looked up and saw anxious green eyes staring into yours. Harry let out a shaky deep breath and moved his head back. You awkwardly climbed out of his arms and attempted to stand. You wobbled a bit and he immediately grabbed on and steadied you. You looked at your friend who was watching Harry very closely. “(y/n) can we please talk...alone.” he mumbled looking at your friend. You nodded your head, earning a sigh of relief from him. You looked at your friend telling her it was okay and let Harry pull you into his dressing room. He sat you on the couch and stood in front of you, running his fingers through his hair. “I don't even know where to start...”

“How about at the part where you left these tickets on my porch..” you grumbled watching him.

“I needed you here. I couldn’t get you out of my head after the gas station. It’s been so long...theres so much I’ve wanted to tell you but I couldn't because you blocked my calls.”

“Yeah because you cheated on me Harry. After 5 years?! You broke everything we had built together. All for some random girl?” You were annoyed but when you looked at him tears were falling down his cheeks and that made you sad. You didn’t want him to be upset. He had taken the jacket off and thrown it on a chair in the corner.

“I know....I know I ruined everything. It wasn't supposed to happen, it was a dumb mistake and I will forever regret it. The minute I saw you...I knew. I knew I had ruined the best thing in my life. There was never anything between me and her it was always just a drunk mistake. When you said goodbye I nearly lost it. I knew I would never love anyone but you. I haven't even looked a girl since that night. You're the only one I ever needed. I am so so so very sorry.I know I can’t take anything back but I need you. I can’t let you go, not again.” Your eyes were tearing up again and he reached up to wipe them away. His fingers rubbed my jaw and he leaned closer. You were suddenly very aware of him, his smell, everything. You leaned closer breathing faster and his lips cautiously met yours. You gave in. You fell against him and his hand pulled you unbearably close. He kissed you in a way that made you drown in him. He made the kiss deeper, adding more force and biting down on your lip. You moaned, opening your lips more allowing his tongue inside of your mouth. You sat up and ran your fingers through his hair, playing with the curls at the base of his neck while he trailed fingers up your back. If you died right now, you would be content. This moment was everything your body had been aching for the past two months. You grabbed the buttons on his shirt and went to pull it off. He pushed you back onto the cushions of the couch, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Fuck I missed you (y/n).” He breathed into your ear before biting the soft skin on your neck. Yikes that was going to bruise for sure...

“I missed you too Harry” you managed before turning his head and bringing his lips back to yours. He kissed you like his life depended on it. Like there was nothing else he needed but you. You matched his energy. He had your shirt pulled almost over your head when there was a knock at the door and in walked a girl. She looked familiar..the hair... Harry looked up, his cheeks bright red. You sat up, pulling your shirt down and looking from her to Harry. 

“Sarah.” Harry managed while trying to catch his breath. “Is everything okay?” He looked anxious. 

You looked at her again and it hit you. “Sarah?” You looked at Harry again with pain in your eyes. 

“(y/n)....wait. It’s, It’s not what you think..” He grabbed your hand as you stood up. 

“She’s in your band?” You were crying again. Sarah was uncomfortable and moving towards the door. 

“Im going to go...I’ll catch you later Harry.” she left closing you back in the room with Harry. You turned toward him. 

“Really?” You said again looking at him.

“Like I said before, she was a mistake. I was drunk, she was drunk and that's all there is. There is absolutely nothing between us. I swear.” He stood up and walked towards you again. “(y/n), love, theres nothing between me and her. Its strictly work related.”

“Did you kiss her after we broke up? Did the two of you...” You asked staring at him. 

He looked down and shifted uncomfortably, giving you your answer. You wanted an answer though. “Harry. Did. You. Have. Sex. With. Her.”

“She kissed me...we...we just.... The next morning. But I swear I broke it off after that. I told her the truth. There was no feeling. There was nothing. You're all I could think of. I promise on my mums life there is nothing between us. There never will be.” Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He held you while you cried, rubbing your back. 

“I can't do this right now Harry. I really can’t. I...I need to go.” You pushed him away and walked to the door. Turning one last time you looked at him, his eyes shining with tears and you left. 

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

What do you guys think?? Part 3?? Let me know! xoxo

[usemeasabadexample]

Bechloe Fic: The Kraken Has Been Unleashed

Summary: Chloe has a way with her. That’s for sure. And, as uncomfortable as it might make her to think about it in this very moment, Beca’s starting to wonder just what that really means.

Set at the beginning of Pitch Perfect 2. Kind of canon, kind of...not canon. Mostly fluff and fun and maybe some very mild angst at best. Nothing too stressful. We’ve been through enough of that!

Read on AO3

Chapter 10

Beca's alarm wakes her up way too early the next morning.

Usually, she'd snooze the clock ten times, roll out of bed and barely have time to brush her teeth before running to class. This morning is different though. It's the first day of her internship and she wants to be prepared.  Wants to look professional. And she's pretty sure professional doesn't include a messy bun with sweatpants and one of Chloe's Barden t-shirts.

So she gets up early. Showers and puts on something nice before grabbing a bowl of cereal.

“You look hot this morning DJ. What's up?” Stacie ambles into the kitchen and gestures to Beca's outfit while opening up the refrigerator.

Beca looks up from her breakfast. “Hey Stace.” She swallows the bite she just shoved into her mouth. “Nothing. Just...won't have time to change before the party later.” The stool screeches across the floor as she stands and drops her bowl into the sink. “See you tonight.” She grabs her things and rushes out before Stacie can ask anymore questions. Stacie can sniff out a lie from a mile away so the last thing she needs to do is play a game of 20 questions with the house genius.

“Can’t wait!” Stacie calls out as Beca hustles out of the door to get to her first class on time, excited for what the day holds.

-----

Jesse’s car is rounding the corner as Beca walks away from her last class so she picks up speed. She doesn’t trust him. He has a knack for embarrassing her in public places. Not maliciously. Just...dorky.  

“Hey superstar!” Jesse shouts out of the car window as he screeches to a halt. He leans over the center console to sling the passenger door open for Beca. “Damn! Work it Bec!”

Beca practically sprints the rest of the way to the car. “Oh my god.” She jumps in and slams the door, frantically trying to roll up the window. “Please shut up.”

Jesse laughs. “Is that any way to talk to your chauffeur for the day?”

“Keep it up and it’ll only get worse.” Beca side eyes him and adjusts the radio.

Jesse always plays late fifties pop songs and while Beca appreciates all types of music, she can't sit there and listen to it for extended periods. Although it does give her ideas for new mixes. Chloe always loves it when she mashes up old school songs with new stuff. Her thoughts stay trained on her best friend and she wonders what Chloe is up to. Between the rush of getting ready and trying not to freak out, there just wasn't time to see her this morning.

That's her excuse anyway.

If she's being honest, avoidance tactics may have been at work. She feels like absolute shit for keeping the internship from the redhead but she doesn't know how to broach the subject. Under normal circumstances, she knows she would be excited to tell Chloe. But there's a lot at stake for the Bellas right now and she doesn't want to add anything else to the older woman's plate. She wants Chloe to know that she's there and she's present and she's going to fight for them because letting Chloe down would be the worst feeling in the world.

Jesse's small talk forces her to dismiss the thought. They talk about classes and auditions and their last hood night party the Trebles are hosting later tonight and before she knows it, they’re pulling up to the Residual Heat Recording Studio.  

Her nerves bubble up again.

She's excited and hopeful but she still has the weight of guilt lingering in the back of her mind. Jesse reassures her that everything will be okay. He reminds her that she's worked hard for this opportunity and she deserves this shot.

She gives him a quick kiss before running away while he continues to holler out more embarrassing comments. He's definitely a nerd but he knows her well. His goofy antics have calmed her down considerably and she takes a moment to appreciate his charm before charging ahead.

-----

The afternoon is a blur.

She fucks up her name tag picture, makes a shit ton of coffee and hands out a lot of snacks. She's nobody important here but that's not the point. There's a lot to be learned. A lot to be gained. This is her shot. It's her first step into the world of music production and she's looking forward to paying her dues.

In a bizarre series of events, her boss unexpectedly storms into the office and announces they'll be producing a new Christmas album for Snoop Dogg. The Snoop Dogg. It's crazy but she stifles her excitement. She doesn't want to be labeled as some psycho newbie on her first day but relaxing isn't easy. Between draining her brain for a quick idea on how to make Snoop's new album original and the exchanges happening between this Dax kid and her boss, she’s struggling to control her reactions. Her facial expressions always give her away and the one she's wearing right now screams absolute confusion because Dax is now high-kneeing around the room and this is all really fucking weird.

Thankfully, her phone buzzes and it gives her a reason to look away from the train wreck happening in front of her. She has four messages, none of which she noticed earlier. They’re from Jesse, Amy, and Chloe respectively.

She opens Jesse's message first. It's some idiotic, cheesy 'hope everything is going well’ message and she replies by calling him a dork. It seems like her go-to word when referring to him.

She hesitates before opening Amy's messages because she never knows what the blonde is going to say. It's almost always inappropriate and usually impossible to understand, but she opens it anyway.

Shorty! Where is our toothbrush?!

Yep.

What the fuck does Amy mean by our toothbrush? Beca refuses to believe the obvious. That Amy is implying (more like directly stating) that they use the same toothbrush. That just cannot be right. And even if it is, why would it be missing?

She makes a mental note to buy a new one immediately.

Maybe two.

The second message is almost just as cringeworthy.

Your acawife was asking where you were! You're gonna be in the dingo house tonight!

The urge to roll her eyes is too strong to avoid so she rolls them around before deciding she will not be messaging Amy back. She clicks Chloe's message instead. It's the most recent one.

Trip to Copenhagen is all booked! AHH! :-P

Beca chuckles to herself. She can hear Chloe's voice singing the message in her head. It's cute but it also makes her feel bad because they haven't even discussed the issue of Worlds and Beca promised she would be there for Chloe.  Yet, here she is. At an internship that she still hasn't told Chloe about while the redhead sits at home and plans alone all afternoon. She knows she's going to have to address all of this at some point but how? This isn't really her area of expertise.

Another message comes through.

It's Chloe again.

You okay? Haven't heard from you today! :-(

Ouch.

Beca wonders why she acts like such a dick sometimes. There doesn’t seem to be any logical excuse. Especially when it comes to Chloe. She's the last person on Earth Beca wants to disappoint but it seems like it's destined to happen.

She takes a deep breath and types out a reply.

Sorry Chlo! Busy day. I'll see you at the Trebles’ later!

It's vague and lame but she can't tell the truth and she doesn’t want to outright lie to Chloe so she hits send and shoves her phone back into her pocket as her boss storms back into the room. She straightens in her seat and tries to blend in for the rest of the day.

-----

Beca exits the studio, overwhelmed and stressed, and throws her bag into the back seat of a cab before jumping in and giving the driver directions to the Bellas’ house.

She leans back and takes a deep breath that vibrates her through her lips on the way out. She knew this business would be cut-throat but wow . Today proved how messed up the music industry really is. The people are self-serving and the pace is incredibly fast and it feels like the multi-tasking skills needed to get through each minute are nearly impossible to master.

She’ll get through it though. She has to. This is her shot to get out there and start making a name for herself. This is her dream.

Plus, she’s glad to have the first day out of the way. It can only get easier from here.

Hopefully.

Possibly.

Who knows.

She shakes it off and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She hasn’t had a chance to check it since she messaged Chloe back earlier. Sure enough, there are a few new messages from her best friend. Chloe has no qualms about sending Beca multiple texts in a row. Even when Beca doesn’t answer right away, Chloe will continue babbling without worrying about whether or not she's being annoying.

If it were anyone else, Beca would probably send a string of expletives and permanently block their number. But, like everything else, Chloe is the exception. She smiles and opens their text thread.

Okay! Can't wait! XO

I hope they have the green punch!

Please bust out the cell phone dance move! I love it!!! ;-)

So, a Legacy showed up to our door tonight to audition and we accepted! She's totes amazing and you're going to love her!

I don't think we are breaking the rules bc she came to us! Loophole! :-D

BTW, Legacy means that her mom was a Bella. Her mom is THE Katherine Junk! Omg!

Beca chuckles at the enthusiasm in the messages and pictures Chloe grinning excitedly as she wrote them. A wave of anticipation hits her and she’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to get home as quickly as possible. She tells herself that she’s just anxious to get home after a long day but she knows that's a lie. Before reading those texts, she was tired. Even considered not showing up to the party but there’s a new energy flowing through her and she wills the cab driver to hurry the fuck up already.

When she finally makes it home, she throws her bag down, uses the bathroom, and races through the bushes to the Trebles’ house.

-----

Beca approaches the party, surprised at how out of control things seem already. It's still pretty early but the acapella crowd clearly came to party tonight. She wonders what type of trouble the Bellas are getting into and smiles thinking about all of their past Hood Nights. They've had some wild ones and she's sure this last one will be no different. Especially if Chloe has anything to do with it.

Chloe has a way of making Hood Nights, and most parties in general, more fun than they probably should be. Some of them, in particular, stand out for reasons that Beca isn’t prepared to think about right now. Mainly because they involve Chloe getting way too handsy.

But she already said she’s not thinking about that and scans the crowd for red hair instead.

Oddly enough, she can’t quickly spot her best friend but she spies Jesse sitting up on the deck. And because the night has her feeling light and giddy, she creeps up behind him and grabs him by the shoulders before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

His drink almost slips out of his hands and Beca mutters a quick “oh shit” before dropping down next to him. She takes a deep breath, ready to de-stress after such a crazy day, but Jesse starts asking about the internship and about Chloe and damnit.

“Oh, she’s just..she’s like, locked into the World’s right now and I’m looking for the right time. It’s-- I’ll tell her.” Beca tries to shrug it off like it’s no big deal but it dampens her mood and she excuses herself to grab a drink at the tiki hut. Why did Jesse have to bring up Chloe and the internship in the same sentence? Beca already feels like the absolute worst person in the world and the thought of Chloe having to ask Jesse for her whereabouts just makes it even worse.

This sucks.

Beca takes a huge gulp of whatever concoction is being served tonight and notes that it’s not the green punch that Chloe was hoping for but she can't dwell on it because she notices there’s a really tall girl just standing there staring at her. The girl's arms are stretched out towards Beca and she has no idea what’s about to happen.

“Hi!”

“Hi…” Beca responds hesitantly, still completely unsure.

The taller woman rambles something about being sisters and then it clicks for Beca. She realizes this is the girl- correction- the Legacy, that’s been added to their team.

“Oh yeah! Hi. Chloe texted me that we added a Legacy. I...didn't even know that was a thing.” She lifts her shoulders and gestures with her hands as she speaks. It feels odd.

The girl giggles and keeps staring at Beca so Beca just chuckles uncomfortably and takes another sip.

Then another.

And they're both just sort of standing there awkwardly.

Beca gives a tense smile and widens her eyes, which finally seems to break the other girl’s manic look.

She slaps her hands to her forehead way too hard. “Ouch! Oh my god. I’m sorry! I'm Emily. By the way. Sorry. I forgot that you didn’t know my name yet and I think the others have already started calling me Legacy so it’s totally okay if you want to call me that too I just figured you should know my real name because I totally-”

Beca reaches out and briefly touches Emily’s arm to stop her rambling. “Emily.” She pulls her hand away. “Nice to meet you.”

Emily beams and Beca really wants to get as far away from this interaction as possible.  

“We can get to know each other better later. Right now…” Beca uses her head to gesture across the yard where she can see a few of the Bellas bouncing up and down. “Let’s go catch up with everyone else.”

“Oh!” Emily nods rapidly and Beca thinks she looks like a battery operated bobble-head. “Yeah, definitely! Let’s go!”

Beca nods once before taking a shot and refilling her cup as Emily follows her into the crowd.

-----

“Beca!” Amy is the first person she encounters.

Of course.

She is immediately picked up and twirled around by the blonde. “Where have you been? Oh my god! Have you gotten taller? No! That’s not possible!”

“Amy!” Beca kicks her legs and starts to protest the manhandling but she sees a flash of red hair as she’s being spun around and the words die on her lips.

She starts laughing because jesus christ. It’s been a long day and it feels like she’s been waiting to see that red hair for way too long now. She presses on Amy’s shoulders and frantically wrestles herself out of the tight grip, almost toppling them both over in the process. Amy strings together a few choice expletives and she can hear Stacie muttering something inappropriate but it doesn't stop her.

She bounces right up to her best friend with a smile so wide she thinks her head might explode. “Chlo!”

Chloe’s head whips around and when her eyes land on Beca, her face actually does explode into a display of pure joy. She reaches out and grabs Beca, hooking her arm firmly around the shorter woman’s shoulders to drag her in close.

Chloe's laugh echoes in Beca’s ear and Beca can’t stop her smile from growing impossibly wider as she wraps her arms around the redhead’s waist as best as she can and squeezes back. The scent of fresh laundry and liquor invades her senses and it’s all a little overwhelming but it feels good and she can't help but sink further into it. She lets her body sway back and forth with Chloe's as she breathes her in. Exhilaration and borderline manic happiness taking over in the moment.

“Beca!” Chloe pulls back but keeps her arm firmly around Beca’s shoulder. “Where did you come from!? Where have you been!?” Chloe’s mouth is wide open and the way her eyes are bubbling with excitement reminds Beca of a shaken soda bottle. The look is scary powerful and Beca can’t find it in herself to formulate a response so she just laughs like crazy and brings her cup up from around Chloe's waist to clink it to redhead’s before taking another sip.

Chloe’s eyes stay trained on her as she downs the drink and it makes Beca feel like a shot of Red Bull has been directly injected into her veins. It travels through her entire body with lightning speed and everything inside of her buzzes to life.  She crushes the cup in her hand as she continues to drink, eventually cracking it. Remnants of the liquid leak down her arm but she keeps chugging. The atmosphere and the energy of the party has her head spinning and she just wants to let loose. Have fun.

She’s buying time too. Chloe’s presence is taking her to another level of excitement and she doesn’t know how to quite contain it at the moment. It feels like the cup is the only thing anchoring her to sanity at the moment.  

“Beca!” Chloe swats the crushed cup straight out of Beca’s hand, the last few drops splashing out when it hits the ground and Beca’s eyes widen but she doesn’t move. Her arm stays frozen in the air, invisible cup still in hand. Mouth still open.

And Chloe smiles.

It’s that mischievous, self-satisfied smile. The same one she used after their shower duet so many years ago.

Beca won't forget that look.  It makes her shiver but she smiles back, hand coming back down to squeeze Chloe around the middle again. "You're going to get into trouble tonight." Beca tuts, pretending to be put-off, "I can feel it."

Chloe nods enthusiastically, apparently thrilled by the notion, and moves both hands to Beca's shoulders. It brings the two of them face-to-face and she leans in to speak directly into Beca’s ear. "And you are already in trouble for getting here so late."

Beca’s chest tightens as Chloe pulls back to lock eyes but she keeps herself together. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm." Chloe is still nodding, all breezy happiness and cool confidence.  

"Well," Beca shrugs, doing her best to appear nonchalant, "what are you gonna do about it?"

Chloe drapes her arms further around Beca’s shoulders, big blinking eyes boring into Beca, “I’m going to dance with you."

Beca’s hands involuntarily squeeze the redhead tighter, fingers eventually pressing into Chloe hard enough that she’s afraid she might leave a mark. She panics momentarily, not wanting to hurt her best friend, but then Chloe’s laugh cuts through the party noise and the redhead is dragging her through a crowd of people back towards familiar faces that instantly start shouting when they see the duo approaching.

“Beca!”

“Chloe!”

“Bloe!”

“What’s up bitches?!”

“Where were you guys!?”

Beca dodges Amy’s swinging arms as Chloe continues to pull her into the circle of Bellas but all of her ducking and dodging distracts her right into Stacie’s waiting hands.

“DJ!” Stacie shouts, squishing Beca’s cheeks and before Beca can react, Stacie starts moving in with puckered lips. There’s nothing Beca can do because one of her hands is still wrapped up in Chloe’s and the other is no match for Stacie’s strength so she braces for the onslaught coming her way, eyes shut and lips sucked in.

But it never comes.

Instead of sloppy Stacie kisses, Beca feels herself being pulled out of the taller woman’s grasp. She sees a flash of red and green and her favorite smile and she lets herself collide with the person reining her in. Hands squish her cheeks again but this time, she doesn’t even consider trying to fight them off. Instead, she wraps her arms around Chloe and returns the smile, letting everything around her disappear because Chloe leans in and peppers her face with kisses that match the beat of the song and the thump of her heart.

It makes Beca feel giddy.

Goofy.

Like she’s already had too much to drink but she knows that can’t be.

And really, in the moment, Beca honestly doesn't care what the reason is.

What the feeling is.

All she knows is that Chloe is here and everything feels perfect so she grabs on tighter and pulls Chloe in closer. Squeezing and laughing like a crazy person.

"You're insane! You know that, right?!" She's borderline shouting to be heard over the music.

Chloe pulls back just long enough to look directly at Beca. Eyes dancing and hands squeezing Beca's shoulders tightly. She mutters a quick, "mhmm" and leans in again, bright blue eyes crossing briefly as they come nose-to-nose.

It makes Beca chuckle.

"I know." Chloe mumbles the words and kisses the tip of Beca's nose.

Beca takes a deep breath and lets the tingling feeling take over as the beat drops and she falls into step with Chloe.

[sneyrwrites]

|2| |Ace| Levi Ackerman x Reader

✘Ace : BloodSport ✘

|Wordcount: 6081 | Previous: ✘

Inspiration Song : You’re gonna go far kid -The Offsprings 

Even tho Annton didn’t lie when he took me to the abandoned  house, he wasn’t completely honest.

Yes, it was true that the people who went to the fights as spectators placed bets on the fighters, but he failed to mention that the betters were nobles, from the high society, escorted by a few members of the Military Police and the Garrison. An enormous part of them even took their lovers along, girls way too young to be their wives, barely above 17 years old, wearing tight and colorful dresses, looking like they were about to assist to a big gala or something.

Eventually there was the middle class man in the crowd too, but The Basement was majority concurred by some of the most wealthy people inside the walls. Hypocrites that assisted with the sole purpose of satiating their thirst for depravation and violence . The basement was a place where everything was permitted, a law free zone where one could take the decency mask off, and just succumb to their most primal state of violence.

It was pretty obvious to anyone with more than two brain cells that the Basement wasn’t a proper place for a thirteen-year-old girl. The first time I stepped a foot in the dark room I almost peed my pants. Everything from my posture to my shaking hands screamed that I didn’t belong there, but the firm grip of Annton’s hand on my wrist impeded me to leave. I don’t even remember the wrestlers’s names, too focused on the stench circulating in the humid air to care about what was going on inside the circle. With thirteen years I didn’t recognize the smell, but at nineteen and with six years of experienced i was an expert pinpointing the metallic smell of blood mixed with the sweet touch of ale.

Men with expensive looking suits and their escorts filled the subterranean floor, their clothing contrasting with the dirt floors and the blackened walls because of the torches smoke, that gave what little ilummitation they could in the chamber. The spectators crowded around a white circle that was painted on the floor, elbowing one another to get to the front row, where the most sadistic hoped to get sprayed by the loser’s blood. Up and against the walls there were a few rows of bleachers, reserved to those who could afford it, they were a sign of wealth and status.

My first fight took place two weeks after Annton showed me the basement for the first time. When we were there they settled the date. One soldier from the military police had found another brat my age to face down. Apparently when two kids fought, it was a special treat, The basement hosting the double amount of people it usually would.

The last Saturday of September got earlier than expected. I had used my time to fiscally prepare, running laps and lifting heavy things I found around the house, doing sit-ups and pushups and all the exercises you could imagine. I hanged a pillowcase filled with heavy stuff to make it contendent and used it to practice my punches, trying to dodge the bag when it came back full force towards my nose. Keyword being ‘try’.

I tried to mimic the progression of hits my father had taught me in front of the mirror in the living room. My movements were sloppy, and my technic was nonexistent. There was no chance in hell I would win the fight. The fear was consuming me. If I came home with a black eye or a few teeth missing my father would notice just how fucked up i was, if I made it home after, Annton was prone to throw my sorry and beaten ass inside a prison cell as soon as i were conscious again. But the other option wasn’t good either, If I won the fight it implied beating another kid unconscious, another boy in the same predicament i was in.

An hour after my father left to the wall to keep guard i sneaked through the door, an old black cape that Mrs. Argón had given it to me a last winter draped around my shoulders, protecting me from the chilling wind. Annton had instructed me to take some spare clothes to fight with in a bag, so i packed the most basic things i had, a white tank top and some old black cotton pants that had a few holes on the lower end, so i ended up cutting them up at the knee.I also packed a pair of handwraps, the more injury’s i could avoid the better, that way it was easier to keep the fights a secret from dad.

The streets were silent and a layer of frost was forming in the windows I passed by. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have another way out. Annton was extorting me with prison time, but realistically I could run away and he would never find me, he didn’t have my address or my actual name, if I disappear it was game over.

Then why was I on my way to the lion’s den willingly? The idea of finally being able to stop begging on the streets for food was appealing. If I won I would get paid, besides for once in my life I was having the control over something, it didn’t matter that it could potentially get my nose rearranged. The fear was undeniable, it was there, lurking in the back on the back of my mind, but at thirteen years old I could be tempted by the idea of a better life.

At the end of the street, almost in front of Wall Rose I could distinguish Annton’s figure, leaning against a cart attached to two horses. The diver’s back was facing me, him not paying attention to us at all. The sound of my foots steps alerted Annton, who lifted his gaze from the ground and smiled at me.

“I thought you had backed down in the last minute.” He joked, I didn’t answer, the silence stretching between us. “Anyway, get in, it’s a long ride, the guards on the door knows about the event, so there’s no need to worry”

Without emitting a word I got in, Annton following right after. The sudden jerk of the cart because of the horses starting to run made me fall face first onto the wood planks. Heat crawled up my neck as Annton bursted out laughing. if the driver had reacted the same way, I would head dived out of the cart.

I got up and Annton grabbed me by the arm, trying to stabilize me.

“Thanks” I scoffed once I could finally sit on one of the apple crates that functioned as stools.

“You’re welcome kid” He said, looking at the narrow street we were traveling, leaving wall Rose behind.

The road seemed remotely familiar, the only other time I transited it I almost fainted from the panic, so i couldn’t recall much, a few buildings were familiar, but come on, every building was a copy of the one next to it.

The ride was lengthy, grazing the two hours of travel. Half of the time I spend it snoozing off, the constant rocking of the cart lulling me. Every now and then a rock on the wheel would shock me awake. Resigning my slumber, knowing full well I would not rest, i opted for talking to Annton. I could barely make out his face in the darkness, the moon nowhere to be found, only a few stars illuminating us.

“Annton...” I started, a grumble from him told me he was paying attention, so i continued “Who am I going against?”

Curiosity was one of my flaws. Ever since the date was settled I couldn’t stop imagining the fight.

“From what I’ve been told, you’re going against a kid from the underground city. “Annton turned to me " I think they found him fighting for food down there, the guard offered him money if he assisted the fight, and I heard there’s even the citizenship on the table.”

His words took the air out of my lungs. That kid had it ten times worse than me. A sudden wave of guilt hit me. Annton noticed my change of demeanour and he let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing his forehead.

“Why did I even opened my mouth…” The muttered words left his mouth" Listen kid, I choose you because I thought you were desperate enough, you are a decent fighter, you could handle yourself against a man almost the double of your age.” He said matter-of-factly. “If you feel even a little of remorse for that kid, he will break your nose. You two are not enemies, but he will not hesitate. He wouldn’t mind killing you if it meant he could take off from that shithole. Do you want to die? "  I shook my head, stunned by his logic " Good, then you must fight. If you don’t fight you don’t win, and if you don’t win you won’t survive ¿Understood?

“What if I lose? " I asked, my voice low, almost imperceptible. Everything had been an awful idea. The whole “doing something for myself and taking the reins of my life” thing was going south.

“It all depends on how you loose. If it’s for you not trying, then I’ll find out the coward you really are and I’ll throw you in a cell to rot myself.” The harshness of his words slapped me across the face. “ However, if you lose from lack of experience, you’ll do better next time, and you’ll keep fighting until you can pay you debt.”

I nodded, understanding his words.

“I trust on you Ace, there’s a reason I chose you… Don’t let me down”

His words did something in my interior. Maybe it was because it was the first time someone had said anything like that to me. No one had had faith in me before. My resolution to fight came back ten times stronger.

I could do it, I was going to give my all into this fight, no matter what.

The remaining of the trip we spend it on silence, only stopping twice to switch horses. Before I even knew we were right in front of Sina.

We both got down from the cart and he dismissed the driver, setting the meeting point for the way back. Once the sound of the hooves dissipated in the distance Annton walked up to the concrete wall. He looked up and whistled like a bird. My eyebrows went up. What an amazing dumb skill to have. Another identical whistling responded, and an elevator started to descend, I could distinguish another person on it.

Once it got to the floor, a woman got out of it and throw herself into Annton’s arms, smashing their lips together. I could feel a blush invading my face, I wasn't used to those kinds of affection, and the level of intimacy they shared made me really uncomfortable. I adverted my eyes, trying to give them some privacy.

Once they separated Annton called me over, I walked over to them and he gestured towards the girl with his arm.

“Ace this is Hale, my… Friend” I couldn’t stop my sceptic look. Friends didn’t kiss that way from my understanding. Apparently she agreed with me because she slapped the back of his head, annoyed.

“Charming as ever Ann.” Her frown dissolved into a smile when her eyes found my own. “Oh god! You’re so pretty!” Her big blue eyes shone with enthusiasm. She grabbed my hand, leading me to the wooden lift. “Try to keep your face intact tonight. Let’s go”

With a pull on my arm, she got me inside. Annton following behind and closing the door.

“So… how’s Wall Rose doing Ann” Hale Aked, her black hair slapping me in the face because of the wind. I took her in, the patch on her jacket displaying a green unicorn. Military Police.

“Meh, same as always. There’s nothing interesting” Annton placed his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. “My last two weeks consisted on waiting for Ace’s first match” The excitement on his voice sounded authentic.

“First match? Oh honey,  you must be so nervous.” One of her hands patted the top of my head “Don’t worry, we won’t leave you on your own. I’ll even bet on your favor.”

That didn’t help at all.

They kept talking and I shut them off. Once we were on the top of the wall another guy received us, greeting Annton with a friendly hug. He looked me up and down.

“So… this is the renowned Ace huh?” He said with a deep voice. “She’s smaller than what I pictured. How old are you, girl?”

“I’m thirteen…” I said, Annton looking at me with a shocked expression.

“Shit Ace! Why didn’t you said anything!? You’re still a kid, i woul’ve thought twife before offering the deal.” Since when was he considerate " I thouth you were at least fifteen.”

“Dean is fifteen” Said the other guy " Though luck Ann, seems like you made a poor decision” He chuckled, palming Annton’s back.

Annton rubbed his face with his hands a few times and he sent a confident smile my way .

" As if.  Ace is going to kick his ass. Right, kid?”  I didn’t answer, this asshole was sending me to my doom.

“That’s Enogh Ivo. Don’t try scare her. Cant you see she’s already nervous? " Hale intervined, tying to defend me.

Ivo got down to my level. He was big, enormous,  around 6’2. His hand found a place in the top of my head, petting it as if I was a dog. With him in that position I could appreciate his features. His green eyes studying me with the same intensity as I was. He couldn't be older than nineteen, his face was young, without a beard or wrinkles, only smooth and healthy looking skin.

" I’m sorry kid, I know you will be just fine” He  pissed me off. He was underestimating me, and with a reason, but still, it was annoying.

I slapped his hand away.

“Thanks.” I said dryly. Annton and Hale laughing at Ivo’s flabbergasted expression.

“Huh… she’s got an attitude, I like it. She’s definitely going to be okay.” He said, getting up. He turned to the couple. “I wouldn’t be too worried about her.”

The four of us descended to the other side of the wall. I limited myself to observing them. Anyone could see they got along just fine, as they were comfortable with each other, joking around and pushing one another. A longing feeling made its way into my chest. I never had the chance to make friends, with my father often away and my constant begging on the street’s there wasn’t much time left to socialize.

Hale turned my way and smiled at me. Almost on instinct I smiled back, and hers grew bigger. She was young too, around the same age as Ivo. The doubt on  how these three soldiers ended up on the illegal world of  The Basement  was eating me away, but i tried to ignore it.

As I was walking down the streets of the wealthy town I realize just how much of an outcast I was. The children with lucky enogh to have been born inside wall Sina would never have to go through what I had. The exasperating need, and the dependence on other people’s goodwill to survive.

Annton was guiding the group, leading the way in the dark as if he knew it like the back of his hand. We made it to the entrance of a tunnel and without missing a beat he got in, descending the steps.

A long and dark hallway stretched out in front of us, seemingly going on forever. We made our way in silence, the only sound was the tapping of our footsteps on the stone floor.

“This tunnel connects with the ones leading to the underground city. “ Hale’s voice broke the quiet " The basement is right in the middle. You’ll know when we get there” Her hand found my shoulder in the dark and she squeezed it, comforting me.

Hale was right. After fifteen minutes i could hear the commotion. Lug voices and laughs, people stomping their feet in sync, almost like a heartbeat.

“Seems like they already started” Said Annton, quickening his pace.

“Come on Honey, you need to get ready. We better hurry” Hale took my hand and made me follow her lead, mi shorter legs trying to keep up.

I could see a few feet away the light of a torch slicing through the darkness. As we got closer, the fuss grew louder. 

Once we got there I noticed a hole in the wall, almost as if someone knocked the tunnel wall with a hammer. Next to the jagged edges of the entrance there were two metal rings that supported the torches.

Annton got inside, with Ivo following behind him with a spring in his steps.

I hesitated for a moment. Hale clenched my hand, giving me a little of security.

“Be careful, there’s a step.” She said, smiling at me.” Don’t worry Ace, I’ll be right behind you.”

I took a deep breath in and I felt around with my foot until I found the step she mentioned. A few steps in and a heavy curtain stopped me in my tracks, the deep red colour out of tune with the gray of the walls. A man was in front of it.

“Hey Mick” Greeted Hale

He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Who’s the brat?” He asked, a thick finger pointing at me. “Spectator or Youngblood?”

“This is Ace.” She said. It only took my fake name for him to let us trough, stepping away from the opening on the curtains. I looked perplexed at her and she just winked an eye at me. I thanked the wardrobe of a man, and he nodded once again. A man of few words it seemed. " The perks of being a competitor”

“How did he knew my name?” It was the first time I saw the man. The first time i assisted we entered trough another set of tunnels on the other side of the city, the ones the nobles used.

“Annton putted you on the list, the guards memorize the names to make sure no one who shouldnt be here get’s in, otherwise the business could be ruined.” Hale had to raise her voice above the cheering of the swarm of nobles. 

The place was packed, everyone crowded around the circle where two girls were sparring. A knot formed in my stomach with only watching them, and I tear my gaze from them quickly. Swallowing was hard, the nerves getting the best of me. Hale noticed my anxiety, and taking my hand she dragged me to a less transited area.

“Let’s go to the backrooms so you can get ready. Okay?” She didn’t wait for my anser and she dragged me straight to the opposite end of the place.

The backrooms where only a few small compartments with the same heavy fabric as the entrance separating them from the rest of The Basement. I touched the curtains with the tip of my finger, and my eyes opened like saucers. It was velvet. Someone had to sell their kidneys to afford them. Velvet was expensive as hell, a luxury only a few could pay for.

 Throwing my embarrassment out of the window, I took the fabric to my face, petting my cheek with the soft material. It was almost like touching a cloud. My pillow back at home seemed filled with nails in comparison.

Hale noticed my amazement and giggled.

“Those were donated by Lord Reiss. He comes around quite often” She said  ”You better get changed, there are only two fights left  before yours, and for what I could tell, this one is about to end.” As soon as the word left her lips, the sound of a gong filled the air, which I supposed it meant the end of the match.

Once I was in my comfortable clothes, I took the handwraps and tried to wrap my joints, but they came undone each time I tried. The injuries on my knuckles had healed, a fresh layer of slightly pink skin covering them. The scars would stay there for sure, but oh well, what could you do?

When she saw me struggling with the wraps Hale took them from my hands and proceeded to do it herself. Her fingers worked expertly on my hands, tightening the fabric just the right amount, trying not to constrict the blood flow too much. When she finished with both of my hands, she gave me a friendly squeeze.

“Your hands are freezing.” Hale stated, rubbing my fingers i between her hands, trying to warm them up. “It must be the nerves”

I nodded.

“You know you can talk to me if you want to, right?” Her eyes were gentle.

“Yes, it’s just that I’m a little anxious, I don’t want Annton to regret his decision” I expressed my fear out loud for the first time. Hale’s grip on my hands tightened up.

“I know it seems like Annton is only getting advantage from you. But ever since he found you he wouldn’t shut up about how excited he was for your fight“  She said. “I don’t want you to think I’m only defending him because we’re together. But Annton knows what is like to live on the streets, and when he saw you I think you reminded him of his past. It’s not my story to tell, but by bringing you here he is, on his own twisted way, trying to help you. If you win you get paid, and that’s better than not knowing when you’re going to eat tomorrow or not.”

Shit. So Annton wasn’t only interested in the money. A new flame of determination ignited in my chest. I was not only going to win for myself, i would do it for Annton and his younger self too. I didn’t understand how a young and beautiful girl could be interested in someone much older than her.

“Come here, let me braid your hair, if it’s loose like that someone could grab it, and trust me, it’s not a nice feeling.”  Her hands digged into my hair, braiding it with an amazing level of skill.

I couldn't hold back my curiosity any longer.

“Hale, How old are you guys?… Isn’t Annton a little too old,” I asked. “Not like there’s anything wrong with that… it’s just that i found it a little odd… not that it’s odd.” I was just rambling, too embarrassed to think straight.

She bursted out laughing. The shame intensified.

“You’re funny, Ace.” She said, finishing the braid, letting it fall over my shoulder, a simple ribbon holding it together. The intricate pattern that she twisted the hairlocks in brought a smile to my lips.

I had never learnt how to braid my hair. With a decease mother and living with a grown up man who barely knew how to wash his own socks I never had the chance to. 

I turned to face her, and she had moved to the wall, leaning against it, watching me, amused from my previous nonsense.

“Annton is twenty-one”  My eyes opened with surprise, damn he was rough on the edges. Hale laughed at my expression. “I know what you’re thinking, but try not to mention it, he’s sensitive about his looks. Ivo and I both are twenty years old. The three of us had been together since we joined the military, and we’re as close as we were back then.” I nodded in understanding.

Hale opened her mouth, about to sai something only to be interrupted by the gong.

The fear rushed through my body, chilling my core. It was my turn, the time had come. I was supposed to go out there and beat some other kid, and I thought I was ready, but my feet were nailed to the ground for some reason. I was unable to move.

Hale’s arm circled me.

“Hey Ace, don’t worry. Annton Ivo and I are going to be on the crowd, and if things get ugly, Hitch will stop the fight.” She shook me a little, almost like she was trying to get the anxiety out of my body, and snapped me out of my trance. “You’re going to do just fine. And if not then it’s all right, you get up and you try again. If you don’t fight, you can’t win.”

Her last sentence brought me back to my conversation with Annton in the cart, and the deep desire to make him proud gave me the strength I needed.

I felt like I could understand Annton a little better  he wasn’t mean only for the sake of it, it was his way of helping me out. He was projecting his younger self on me, he wanted to be for me the person he needed so desperately and didn’t have.

With a leveling breath I stepped out of the backroom. I wasn’t sure of what i had to do, but Hale didn’t leave my side. Holding my hand, she pushed her way through the sea of bodies, until we reached the front row, almost inside the circle. In the middle of it there was a man with the Military Police uniform on.

His presence was imposing. Standing taller than Ivo, around the six foot five inches, he smiled at the roaring crows, mischief shining in his eyes. He took his hands to his face and shouted.

“Are you ready!?” The response from the mob was deafening.

Shoulders collided with mine, making me lose my balance. My eyes searched the rows of heads. Right in front of us Ivo and Annton were making their way trough, pushing and insulting the guards that tried to resist them. Once his eyes found us, Annton Smiles at me and nodded one time, Ivo on the other hand screamed my name at the top of his lungs, clapping along.

A chuckle slipped trough my lips. For once in my life I had someone cheering for me, instead of pitying me. A warm feeling made its way through my chest. I was not about to spoil the start of something good. 

The guard on the circle opened his mouth once more

“I said… Are you ready!?” This time my cheers joined the rest, my hands up in the air. 

The warm laugh of Hale resonated by my side,  and my eyes were on the other two dorks, my smile widening when I saw them laugh too.

“Tonight we have a little treat for all of you.” The crowd went wild again, and Hitch tried to calm them down with a finger on his lips, his other hand signaling them to quiet down.” I know, I know. You must be wondering Hitch? What are you talking about? " The smile on his voice was obvious " We have two youngbloods in here tonight, and they’re going to fight for the first time in The Basement”  If I thought the spectators were nuts before now they reached a new level, jumping around, and pushing one another. y eyes went to the bleachers, where a few nobles were nodding their heads, leaning forward with interest.

“Is Dean anywhere around?” Hitch asked.

From the far end of the crowd a figure was coming trough as the people kept screaming. He shoved Ivo and Ann away with his hands and he got into the circle.

Dean was fifteen, but he could easily pass by as a thirteen year old. I knew about the rumors of the habitants of the underground city. Because of the lack of sunlight they didn’t grow that much, Dean was barely half an inch taller than me, his body build almost the same as mine, the only thing that told us apart was his eyes. There was no doubt on them, he had his eyes on the prize ad he was going for it.

The people chanted his name as Hitched grabbed him by the wrist and parade him around the circle. When he passed by me he winked an eye at me and he sent a crooked smile my way.

“Oh honey, I think he is underestimating you, so you better go out there and kick his butt.” Hale shook my shoulders.

A fraction of my stress dissipated with her light tone.

“Alright alright.” Hitch returned to the middle, Dean right behind him. “Is Ace in here with us tonight?”

When i heard my name i didn’t even had the chance to react, Hale’s hand shoving me forward, almost making me fall face first. I thought I heard a ‘Sorry’ from her, but I couldn’t be sure, the roaring crowd drowning her voice.

Hitch repeated the same process of circling me around, some people clapped and cheered me on, others looked at me from head to toe, their eyes screaming what their mouth didn't. They thought I was going to be crushed by Dean.

When I passed by them Ann and Ivo extended their hands, and I gave them a high-five.

Once we were done Hitch placed me in front of Dean. His green eyes analyzed me, sizing me up. The thought of how many times had he found himself in the same position, jus about to fight in the crime-ridden underground city? His black hair fell on his forehead, a few loose curls brushing his brow. I trailed down my eyes and i noticed his shirt was nowhere to be found, I tried not to let it affect me, but i couldn’t help my lingering gaze on the pale skin of his chest. Dean noticed it and he smiled brighter, a set of dimples on his face.

“You like what you see Girl?” He asked, getting inside my personal space, his voice barely above a whisper, only for me to hear. Hitched grabbed his face with a hand and pushed him away.

“Leave the teasing for later Boy” Hitched laughed “Rules are simple kids. No biting, unless you want to sweetheart” he winked “No low blows, no spitting, and leave the claws for another occasion. The fight stops when one of you can't keep up or gives up. Fists up, and clash them.” He took a few steps back.

Dean’s wrapped up hands collided with mines with a little more force than necessary. it was his way of intimidating me. And it was working.

Without another word, Hitch signaled the start of the match with a gesture of his hand.

I raised my guard up as Dean got closer to me, the nerves bubbling up in my tummy. Three blows made their way to my face, but I avoided them, messily and with no technique whatsoever, but they hadn't strike my head, so i was satisfied.

People’s screams were loud, spitting loose words like “Come on” And “Hit him” into the air.

I tried to throw a punch to Dean’s face, but he took my arm and swiped my feet from under me. My back collided with the ground and my spine reverberated from the impact. He lifted his fist and directed it to my head, trying to knock me out, but I rolled away and jumped to my feet. The crowd was roaring his name and he took a step back, spreading his arms, as saying ‘What are you waiting for?’

“Come on cutie, we don’t have all night.” he said, his guard up once again.

I din’t respond, too busy searching for an opening. With two steps he was infront of me, winging a punch to my face, i dodge it, but the moment i did his hands grabbed me by the soulders, and he brought his knee up, smashing it against my abdomen, the pain exploded. I thought he woul let me go after one punch, but he kept going. i needed to get him off of me and fast.

I resisted on last knee and when he retreated his leg to throw another i traped his elbow against his chest, linking my free arm around his other arm i twisted my hips and bended my legs, sending him to the floor with a heavy thud. Ivo’s cheer made it’s way to my ears, but i didn’t have much time to rejoice on my little victory.

My stomach was aching from the blows and i could feel a bruise forming. Dean got up and started to throw one fist after the other, all to my head. I waked back, trying to avoid them, until the hands from the spentators stopped me.

“Don’t go out of the circle, sweetheart. First warning.” Hitch’s voice sounded, but I barely registered what he said.

A fist punished my cheek and I felt the skin tearing, the warm and slow trickle of my blood going down the side of my face. It was going to hurt in the morning, but at the moment the adrenaline rush subdued the pain.

His merciless blows came fast and steady. I would like to say I dodge them all, but I would be lying.

Dean was repetitive and predictable, so taking my chance when he retracted his fist I took a step forward, going under his arms and flooring him.

Once we both were on the floor, I immobilized him with my weight and threw punches at his face. A few of them impacted, but the big majority didn’t get through, his arms covering his head. I made the mistake of letting my arms too far away from my face, and Dean shot his arm up, hitting me straight in the chin. I fell sideways, and the taste of blood was in my mouth.

Shaking my head I got up and lifted my arms, covering my bruised face, Dean rushed to me and threw a right hook, trying to hit my temple, but I blocked it with my elbow, grabbing the back of my neck. The impulse of his blow made him end up in my personal space, so I smashed my opposite elbow straight into his nose. The crunch raised the hairs on the back of my neck, and the blood started to gush out.

Screaming with pain Dean grabbed his face, and at the moment he took a step back I kicked him in the middle of his chest, sending him on his back to the floor, his head hitting hard against the floor, disorienting him. With a conviction I didn’t know I had I threw my body into his, my hips holding him still, and as if he was the same drunken bastard from the alleyway,  my fists unloaded all of my weight into his face.

The whines of pain that came out of his mouth made my heart coil with guilt, but it was a fight, we both had agreed to it and he had no problem on beating me senseless. I closed my eyes and kept going, waiting for Hitch to put a stop to the fight, Dean wasn’t even defending himself anymore.

A heavy hand on my shoulder halted my movements. The gong sounded and the screaming from the crowd erupted.

Once I was on my feet Hitch grabbed my wrist and lifted my arm in signal of victory, a dull ache traveling through my limb.

The spectators got into the circle surrounding me. Congratulations and praises were said by unknown faces, the shiny jewelry on their necks blinding me slightly. Slaps on my back and shoulders were delivered my way as well as a few jars with ale. I felt lost, Hale and the others were nowhere to be found. With a shot stature I felt like I was drowning, the high from the fight retreating, causing the pulsating pain on my face and torso to surface.

Out of the blue a pair of hands grabbed me from under my arms, lifting me up in the air, and putting me down on someone’s shoulders. When I looked down, I recognized Ivo’s dark hair. From my new perspective I founded Hale and Ann out of the crowd.

With a few long strides Ivo made his way to them, leaving the exited mob behind.

Annton had an arm around Hale’s waist, and a smile on his face. Hale was the first to speak.

“Ace! You listened to me and kicked his butt!” She clapped, like a little girl high on sugar “I told you it would be fine” 

“Thank you” I said, still on Ivo’s shoulders, he was not putting me down.

He patted my calf, calling my attention.

“Now let’s go get the prize!” He exclaimed, rubbing his hands together, almost tasting the money.

Before the giant i was on could turn around Annton called me.

“Hey Ace!” My eyes took in his gentle expression " Nice work you did…You’re gonna go far Kid”

I smiled at him, grateful.  Ivo turned around, taking me to the women who recollected the bets.

                                                    Next: ✘

✘ Taglist ✘   

@regalillegal  Omg, i hope this is what you meant for “Tagging”, i’m new on  the blogging thing. Sorry i’m such a mess ;u;

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (xiii.)

A/n: and now for this highly anticipating (not really) chapter Shawn x y/n content that we've been lacking the last 2 chapters.

Summary: maybe it's time they both stopped playing dumb and just admitted their feelings to each other.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2k

***

"Whoa!" I look around at the rooftop. There's two rows of tea candles in these clear, water filled vases leading to a single cafe table, and these two gigantic trees illuminated by fairy lights. And behind the table is an old projector. "Are you sure it's okay to be out here? It looks like someone set it up for something special."

"Yeah," Connor nods. "It's fine."

I'm so busy taking in the soft light the trees are giving off that I almost don't hear the door opening and slamming shut quickly.

"Jesus, Brian. I'm up here, what's the-" The voice of my curly headed dream boy stops quickly. "Fuck."

When I turn to look over at the two friends, his eyes grow darker and his posture becomes more stiff, I feel my body doing the same.

"Hey," he says finally, after what feels like hours of just staring at each other.

"Hi." I kick the toe of my shoe into the pavement, averting my eyes.

"Well, we will leave you guys to it," Brian claps Shawn's shoulder and I can feel Connor shuffling  from beside me.

"Where are you going?" Shawn and I ask at the same time, staring now at our friends who are not so discreetly trying to leave us alone on the roof.

"Just press play on the projector," Connor says.

"Oh," Brian snaps his fingers before turning back toward the door. "There's champagne in the ice bucket at the table. Maybe pour a drink before you watch it, eh?" And they both disappear behind the door.

Neither of us more for a while, but Shawn clears his throat. "So it seems we've been set up."

I nod, "Yeah. Guess so." I don't look him in the eye, I can't. Because if I look at him I know I am going to melt.

"Uh," even though I'm trying not to glance his way, I can see him through my peripheral vision while I walk along the candle lit path. He runs his fingers through his unruly curls before continuing. "I guess we should watch the video, or whatever it is they have set up."

I nod, finding the bottle of champagne Brian mentioned. "Need a drink first?" I ask, effortlessly popping the top of the bottle.

"Please," he sits down, placing both glasses in front of me. I pour his first, almost to the brim and then mine, just as full. I down it in one gulp, not at all loose enough to sit out here on this obviously romantic rooftop that our friends deliberately decorated just for us. I make a mental note to ask Connor later how they even pulled this off. I pour another glass before I sit down too, laying my camera gently on the table between us.

"Y/n?" Shawn tries.

"You gonna press play?"

"Not until you look at me."

I huff out a breath and lean back to press the big button. Humming fills the speakers - Shawn's humming. The video is done in signature Connor style, quick flashes of black and white lights and short clips of backs. Except instead of it just being Shawn, like I'm so used to seeing when he edits the behind the scenes videos, I see me. Me and him. I'm in his lap at the bar. Then we're goofing off in his dressing room, laughing to the point where we're both doubled over, clutching our stomachs. You can barely hear our contagious laughs over Shawn's melodic voice.We're sitting on the tour bus, side by side, sharing earbuds, bopping our heads to the soft beat. You can't hear what we're saying, but the obvious look in our eyes tells you just what we're thinking.

And every single night, my arms are not around you.

I'm on his back as he runs down the span of the sea shore, feet bare and kicking up sand.

My mind's still wrapped around you.

Back on the bus, I'm throwing a pencil at Shawn's head because he made a stupid joke. But he's smiling triumphantly because caught it before it could hit his precious face.

Baby tell me when you're ready, I'm waiting.

Another dressing room and Shawn's sleeping in my lap while I play with his curls. He's playing for our coffee. We're swaying awfully to whatever song is playing in his hotel room. I'm tracing the swallow tattoo on his hand and he's giggling because it tickles.

And if I have to I'll wait forever.

Now he's trying to draw a matching swallow on my hand with pen, but neither of us can stop laughing because the lines are so wobbly on that poor bird.

Say the word and I'll change my plans.

He's running down the hall of some random arena straight to me. He picks me up, spins me around, and my head is buried in the sweaty crook of his neck, no doubt blushing.

Yeah, you know that we fit together.

I'm pressed against Shawn's chest, the entire crew surrounding us as we mould our lips together for the first time. The shock is evident on everyone's faces, but we're so consumed in each other that we don't notice.

I know your heart like the back of my hand.

The clips are slowing down now as we dance horribly in the green room, our hands laced together, my forehead against his chest while I laugh at his lack of skill. The boy can do just about everything, but he can't dance to save his life. But now his hand is on the small of my back while we walk through the crowded sidewalk into the arena.

"I am incredibly, undeniably, incoherently, unfathomably in love with her," Shawn's voice blares the speakers as the music starts to die down.

"Do you really want to hear me say that I'm in love with him?" And now mine. I hadn't realized that Brian had recorded and based on Shawn's evident confusion, he didn't know he had recorded him either.

The screen is just about to cut out, but not before two words flash in bright white letters.

YOU'RE READY.

I don't dare to take my eyes off the wall now. I'm scared that I'll break.

"So… you're in love with me?" Shawn says after minutes of uncomfortable silence.

I laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well I can't deny in now, can I?"

"You could have changed your mind."

I finally spare him a glance, and he's studying my face. Hard. "It's not that easy."

"So you're still-?"

"Yeah… you?"

He nods, "God, yes."

I sigh, locking my fingers together. "It doesn't change-"

"Why not? Why doesn't it change anything? I'm in love with you, y/n. That kind of feeling doesn't just go away overnight. Especially not when I know you love me too."

"It's too hard, Shawn."

"What is? What is so hard about this? You're here, I'm here. We're in the same place at the same time, but you still don't seem to want me as much as I want you."

I flinch at his words. "That's what you think? You think I don't want you? Even knowing that I love you, you still think I don't want you?"

He just shrugs.

"Shawn, I have never in my life wanted something as badly as I do you. But you have to take something into consideration."

"What?"

"We live in two different countries. You're never home because you always have to be moving, and I'm not saying that's a bad thing, that's just how you are. You can't stay put. But part of a relationship is stability and I don't know if we could ever have that."

"Why not?"

"Because being long distance in a normal relationship is hard enough. But being in a long distance relationship with an internationally known rockstar who travels the world about ten out of the twelve months a year? We won't have time for each other."

"But you're my photographer," he says with a raised eyebrow.

"For this tour, I was. Josiah is your photographer, Shawn. We can't just put him out of a job because you want to be with me."

"Then we can have you both."

"You don't need two! Bub, it's not logical to have both of us doing the exact same thing. I was hired to do this tour, but he'll be back for the next one. And this - us seeing each other every day - isn't going to be our normal."

"Then I'll go and see you every chance I get. Or I'll fly you out to see me. We'll make it work. I want to make it work."

"Well I do, too. But I can't just have you going from your home to mine every other week or whenever you think you're gonna come see me. You have a job to do, and so do I."

"You're not giving us a chance, y/n. All I'm asking for a chance."

I sigh and take in his pleading features. "Okay, and what if we don't work?"

"We'll never know if we don't try."

"Relationships are work. Do you think you'll have time?"

"I'll make time," he reaches for my hand and I don't pull away. "I know it's work. But I'm willing to put my absolute everything into this. Because I hate seeing you broken because of me. These last few months, not talking, barely being in the same room together, almost never making eye contact, it was the worst thing I've ever had to watch happen. I swear, I was watching you slip through my fingers. I can't let that happen again."

I let out a breathy laugh, "Then what do we do now? We've kind of done this all completely backwards. What with drunken hookups, and pregnancy scares, and I love you's. Hell the only things we haven't done are go on a proper date and get engaged."

He hums, looking down at my hands. His eyes land on my left one and a small smile creeps onto his face. "You're still wearing my ring," he says, eyes wide.

I feel a blush creep on my cheeks. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that. I probably should have given this back, huh?" I go to take it off, but he stops me.

"No. Keep it. Please." He brings my hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to the tiny metal piece. "Still looks so good on you."

I can't help but smile under his lovely eyes that are still drawing me in. "Stop looking at me like that," I mumble, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm your favorite person on earth."

He chuckles, "well you'll have to do something completely unforgivable for me to do that."

"And… what do I have to do to get you to kiss me again?"

A smirk plays at the corners of his lips, "Come here, mea vita." And he's pulling me out of my seat and to his. I hum in content when his lips connect with mine and I'm warm again, loving the soft touch of his hands on the exposed skin above my jeans. Loving him.

"Fuck yes!" The door slams open and I pull away from my boy with a laugh.

"Our friends are insane," I mumble against him, my thumbs rubbing over his lips.

He nods, biting playfully at my fingers. "They got us here," he says only loud enough for me to hear.

"Yeah…" I smile widely, "Yeah they did."

"What, are we invisible now?" Brian jokes, but we don't pay him much attention because how are we supposed to focus on anything other than each other? Soft, and pure, and here in each other's arms.

"I'm in love with you," he says with a smile that melts my heart, the sides of his eyes crinkling as he bares his perfectly straight, white teeth.

I finger the collar of his shirt and nod, "I love you… so, so much."

---

"Are you sure we need to tell him? I mean, I don't want him to get mad."

Shawn pulls me with him to where Andrew and Cez are talking to one of the stage hands. It's the final concert tonight, so they want to make sure everything goes according to plan. "Come on, y/n. It'll be fine."

I nod, but I'm still not sure about it. "Are you positive? Because like, maybe it would be better to tell him after the show?"

He chuckles, "Baby, look at me." I do. "It might sound extremely selfish, but we need to tell him now. Because I want to kiss my girl before I go on stage tonight. I need that extra bit of good luck. And I don't want to do it secretly."

I laugh, resting my head against his chest, taking his hands in mine. "God, I hope you're always this selfish."

His chest vibrates against my cheek, "C'mon. Gotta introduce everyone to my girl."

I hum, looking up at him. "I could get used to that."

"Yeah? Me too." And he's kissing me again, painting me in every possible feeling and I could not love him more.

"Tell me a lie," I say when we pull back.

"What?"

"I just… I need to make sure this is still real. So tell me a lie."

"I don't love you."

I nod, a blatantly stupid smile on my face. "Yeah… that works."

***

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One more chapter to go!! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙💙

[asexualastarion]

For the album ask game... how about The Black Parade?

oh ABSOLUTELY. i LOVE you. this is all subject to change at the drop of the hat bc im wishy-washy and i love all of these songs anyway so

this got WAY too long so i am putting it under a readmore shhvkldlkdgjlkdsj

not including b-sides:

1. Teenagers- kind of a basic pick i know, BUT, in my defense, the song slaps. it’s such a fun song, especially when you’re singing it at the top of your lungs. the guitar part is super cool too- im trying to learn it rn but it’s a slow process bc im bad at guitar.

2. Mama- what can i say. it fucks. the old time-y feel, the harmonies/background vocals, the layers. the guitar goes so fucking hard. banging lyrics- “you should’ve raised a baby girl, i should have been a better son”??????? songs to be trans to.”but the shit that i’ve done with this fuck of a gun” is the kind of lyric that you can only properly convey if you’re screaming it at the top of your lungs. the whole ending is just. mind blowing

3. The End.- LISTEN!!!!!!!!! the end is WAY TOO FUCKING UNDERRATED!!!! oh my goddd i love it so much. i love it SO much. it’s such a perfect beginning to the song. the lyrics are great (”now come one, come all, to this tragic affair” if you look in the mirror and don’t like what you see, you can find out first hand what it’s like to be me”, “another contusion, my funeral jag. here’s my resignation, i’ll serve it in drag. you’ve got front row seats to the penitence ball, when i grow up, i want to be NOTHING AT ALL!!! SAVE ME!!! GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!! SAVE ME!!! TOO YOUNG TO DIE, AND MY DEAR!!! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME JUST WALK AWAY AND TAKE ME!!). the bit with the snapping and the ooooohs is fun too. such a good song, it could honestly be 1 or 2 but my ranking system isnt based in logic and makes no sense to even myself

4. House of Wolves- house of wolves was my favorite mcr song for a good chunk of time, but as a result i’m kinda burned out on it, which is why it isn’t higher.  however it is still number four  because it’s objectively a fucking amazing song. the guitar is so fuckin fun, the lyrics are great, and it’s just. fun to dance around and sing it at the top of your lungs. you better run like the devil cause they’re never gonna leave you alone!!!!! tell me i’m a bad, bad, bad, bad man!!!

5. Welcome to the Black Parade- the big man itself. the titular song. their biggest hit. a lot of people shit on wttbp for being popular and, like, pretty much the only song of theirs to ever be on the radio anymore (and even then it’s once in a blue moon), BUT. it got popular for a reason. it’s a really good song. i love the structure of it, i love how it builds and builds and builds. the lyrics are wonderfully done- “a world that sent you reelin from decimated dreams/ your misery and hate will kill us all”, the whole “do or die, you’ll never make me” stanza is The Ultimate rallying cry. and the “im just a man, i’m not a hero” is just. ughghghdlkslakdjglsdkg. the titular song of an album entirely about death and dying and misery being SO hopeful and SO upbeat really portrays the album as a whole much differently- mcr is known as The Emo Band because, yeah, their aesthetic is dark and their songs touch dark stuff but they have never been all whiney and boo-hoo-y and melancholic for the sake of melancholy. there’s always been a positive note to their music and a lot of people just don’t get that which makes me sad. anyway. wttbp is fun and i like it and i like the drums and the trumpets at the end. marching bands fuck

6. Blood- ok so the pattern here seems to be that i favor the fun songs over the slow ones, and blood sticks with that. much like with mama, i love the old time-y feel. i love that this is like a fun little bonus ditty to end the album on. the lyrics are silly and fun and jovial, and the piano is great. love it and it makes me happy

7. Disenchanted- OUGHH. OUUUUUGH. i know cancer is objectively the saddest song on the album, but disenchanted just hits different. “when the lights all went out, we watched our lives on the screen/ i hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene” just DECIMATES me, man. the acoustic guitar is a nice change of pace, and the vocal performance is just. so fucking emotional. especially the “woahhhhhhhh-ohs” at the end. great song, makes me Feel Emotions

8. The Sharpest Lives- ok so i know this is pretty much in the middle of the list, but i want to stress that i dont hate any of the songs on this album, so even the middle of the list is pretty fuckin good imo. the sharpest lives makes me go batshit.  the lyrics are so fucking wild. “a light to burn all the empires, so bright the sun is ashamed to rise and be” is SO fuckin sick like OH my god. what a line. also “there’s a place in the dark where the animals go/ you can take off your skin in the cannibal glow/ juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands/ drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, romeo” like WHAT?????????????? GERARD POPPED OFF W THIS ONE FOLKS!! also i love how at the beginning the whisper-y vocals bounce from ear to ear. also “so why don’t you blow me......a kiss before she goes” is fuckin hilarious. honestly this song should be higher but i havent gone through a phase where i’ve been obsessed w it yet so it stays down here for now. one day it will take hold and be all i can listen to for a month straight and THEN it will climb the ranks. 

9. Cancer- makes me cry like a liddol baby. my mom doesnt let it play in the car cause it makes her too sad. twenty one pilots covered it and it was FUCKING AWFUL so the song is kinda ruined now cause i can only think about their shitty cover. like the AUDACITY. but anyway besides that the song is heart wrenching and amazing. the hardest part of this is leavin you!!!!

10. Dead!- look, i know technically the end. and dead! are the same song/ are just continuations of each other but i’m listing them separately bc dead! is, to me, the worse of the two. not that it’s bad or anything, it just doesn’t pop off the same way the end. and all the songs before it on the list do. however i do love the guitar at the beginning and the solo, and the “one! two! one two three four! LA LA LA LAs” are super fucking fun. 

11. Famous Last Words- i used to hate this song!!!! i truly did!! it’s obvs not on the top of my list now or anything, but i have grown to appreciate it a lot more than i used to. like with wttbp, it is the silver lining of the album that betrays its optimistic side. it’s a happy final message to a dark album. the ending is fucking amazing. I am not afraid to keep on living!!!! i am not afraid to walk this world alone!!!!!!

12. Sleep- Sleep is, unfortunately, just kinda boring in comparison. i almost forgot to even put it on the list. however, i do like the “the hardest part’s the awful things that i’ve seen” and the “a drink, for the horrors that i’m in. for the good guys and the bad guys, for the monsters that i’ve been” lines. also the “three cheers for tyranny, unapologetic apathy!” line. but overall it’s just. eh

13. This is How I Disappear- i have. complicated feelings on tihid. on one hand, it reminds me of my favorite oc, re, and is on their playlist. on the other hand, i have grown bored with it over time. it just doesn’t stand out to me at all really. that being said, i do really like the “who walks among the famous living dead” and the “can you hear me cry out to you” stanzas. 

14. I Don’t Love You- while i dont think idly is a bad song at all, it just simply isnt my kind of song. i do think gerard’s vocals are extremely strong throughout, especially during the “when you go, would you have the guts to say/ i don’t love you like i loved you yesterday” line. like wow ok maam please continue. but overall i just dont vibe w breakup songs bc i cant relate

including b sides: 1. Heaven Help Us

2. Kill All Your Friends

3. Everything else

4. My  Way Home is Through You

my reasoning: 

heaven help us is tied for my favorite mcr song Of All Time. everything about this song is catnip for lil old me. the angsty christian imagery, the vocals, the guitar. all of it. the lyrics make me lose my mind, especially the “will you pray for me? or make a saint of me? and will you lay for me? or make a saint of- cause i’ll give you all the nails you need/cover me in gasoline/ wipe away those tears of blood again/ and the punchline to the joke is asking ‘SOMEONE SAVE US’” and the “you don’t know a thing about my sins/ or the misery begins/ you don’t know, so i’m burnin! I’m burnin!!!” parts. like i absolutely vibe with this song so fucking hard. i sing it constantly, it’s great to sing (very stimmy for me), it sounds beautiful. i am obsessed with it through and through

similarly, kill all your friends also speaks to my very soul. i can’t pick favorite lyrics bc id just have to copy and paste the whole song. i love the build-up, i love the time progression throughout the song (it’s been TEN FUCKING YEARS since i’ve been seein your faaaaaace rounnnnnd heeeere), i love the “you’ll never take me alives”. literally everything about this song makes me emo. it just Gets Me. it’s literally about my greatest fear. all my friends growing up and moving away and getting on with their lives without me, leaving me to rot in my hometown waiting for them to return. we only see each other at weddings and funerals, so it’s time to kill all your friends so we can party when the funeral ends!! it’s probably tied with heaven help us, but i’m putting it at number two just because it didn’t hook me as strongly as hhu did. it’s more of a strong, steady favorite than a “this song has latched on to my very soul and i have to listen to it on repeat over and over and over again”, if that makes sense. it’s still in my top 5 mcr songs though

i never vibed with my way home is through you. i don’t listen to it often, and i just don’t really feel it. it’s not bad, it’s just. eh.

anyway if you’ve read this far down i love you so much. thank you for listening to me ramble, mcr means a lot and i love to infodump about my music tastes. i really really appreciate being given an opportunity to do so <3

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Ticket: Admit One

Summary: Modern day AU, no powers, tiny!Steve, stucky.  Steve’s favorite band is playing one last show and Bucky helps talk him into going.

Warnings/ Content: swearing, light angst

Word Count: 833

Author’s Note: I apologize for throwing random angst out into the world but damnit I needed to work through some emotional shit today and this helped so much. I relate to pre-serum Steve Rogers more than any other MCU character so writing this was extremely cathartic. I haven’t done a modern day AU before so hopefully this isn’t total crap. But even if it is, at least it’s out of my head now.  XOXO - Ash

Ticket: Admit One

“I don’t know, Buck!” Steve yelled across the room yet again. His hands were shaking as they raked through his flop of blonde hair. 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. They had been going in circles for twenty minutes. “Then you should go!”

“It’s not that simple.” Why couldn’t he just let it go? Why did he have to push and push?

“Explain it to me then!” Bucky’s voice rose to a volume he rarely used and then it was his turn to rake his hands through his hair in exasperation. Forcing himself to calm down, Bucky continued in a more measured tone, “Stevie. Help me understand. This is your favorite band. You listen to at least one of their songs on a daily basis, you, yourself, have sworn their music got you through some of the toughest times in your life, and this is their last show for the foreseeable future. Why? Why on earth are you not just buying a damn ticket already?” 

And the tenderness in Bucky’s voice was what broke him. Anger he could just defend himself against, but tenderness? That was too much for him to bear. “Because!” Steve shouted, no longer giving a shit if their neighbors could hear them. “I don’t trust my body not to fail me spectacularly! Something will happen and then it’ll all be for nothing!” Steve crumpled in on himself, falling down onto their old, worn out brown sofa with a loud creak. He wrapped his arms around his thin waist and just held on for dear life, willing the anger fueled tears to not start. 

“Stevie.” Bucky murmured, devastated by his outburst. “Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He crossed the room to take the seat next to Steve, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s shoulders. Steve pushed at Bucky but Bucky held tight and Steve gave up. He was an angry little shit but he was still hurting. “You’ll be fine.” Bucky told him, “We’ve planned things before and we always make it work. Why would this be any different?”

Steve sighed heavily, leaning into Bucky’s strong arms. “Because I’d be alone. You and Nat will be away on your work trip. Sam is still down in DC but he doesn’t have any time off. I would have to make the ninety minute drive myself, get to the venue, be jostled around all night at a high energy show, and then get myself home in the middle of the night.” 

“So it’ll be a long day. Just take the next day off work so you can rest up.”

“But what happens if my back decides to act up on the way down? I won’t be able to drive that long to get back or be able to enjoy the concert if I’m in too much pain. Or if my asthma starts up? Or if I eat something that we don’t know I’m allergic to yet? Or if I get one of my four thousand annual colds and can’t even get out of bed to go?” 

“Sweetheart, you can’t miss out on life because of what if’s. I know a lot could go wrong, but it’s not a guarantee that something will.”

“I’ll be alone, Buck. At least when someone is with me and something goes wrong I have back up, ya know? If I’m there by myself and shit hits the fan… I can’t even imagine.” 

“So we make a backup plan. The tickets are only a hundred bucks and it’s a popular show. If you end up sick or hurt and can’t go, we’ll sell your ticket online. Or hell, I’ll give you the hundred bucks if that happens. If you do go, take a break halfway there, get there early so you can rest before the show, and we’ll make sure Sam is on standby to come get you if anything goes wrong. He’ll only be thirty minutes away from there. If something happens, you know he’ll come.” 

“Why do you have to be so logical and determined?” Steve grumbled, starting to see Bucky’s point about it being feasible.

“Because I’m a planner, it’s just what I do. And I love you. I want you to be happy and this music makes you happier than most things in the world so you should go and see it live because you deserve that.” 

“Fuck.” Steve huffed, “I’m an asshole.” he leaned over and canted his head up to kiss his boyfriend, “I love you too. I’m sorry I’m stressing out about something I should be excited for.” 

“It’s okay, I know you’re worried and that’s okay. Now buy your damn ticket before they sell out.” 

“I’m doing this.” Steve said in disbelief as he scrolled through the ticket listings on his phone, “I’m really doing this.” Ten minutes and several dozen clicks later Steve had a third row pit ticket in his inbox and $120 less in his bank account. He couldn’t have been happier. 

[likeshipsonthesea]

i don’t know why but even though i’m not catholic i really identify with the catholic guilt thing? anyway this song makes me think of dex, so here.

warning for internalized homophobia and religious turmoil

The church looks the same as it always did. 

Rays of stained light cast over the deep, dark wood of the pews, smooth but always a stiff seat. The green carpet muffles Dex’s footsteps as he makes his way down the aisle, candles littering the end of the path, the pulpit dressed in drapery and symbolism. Christ hanging on the wall, head bent, humble, thorny bronze crown reflecting the light.

Dex’s hands get caught in his pockets when he goes to light a candle, but no one is there to watch his fumbling. He picks up the wooden stick and tucks the end of it into the flame, waiting for it to catch.

He doesn’t know why, but he always took a moment to pick the right candle for the right prayer. There’s no criteria, or logic, but he looks across the array of candles, some lit but most dark. It’s early, he stumbled in after his morning run, and only the most devoted come in before the sun.

He ultimately decides on the candle three from the end, second row, and dips the lit end of the stick in to touch the wick. Half delirious, he thinks the word “kiss” as the ends touch, and then crosses himself hastily as he makes his prayer.

Forgive me, Dex thinks. He doesn’t think what for, as he would assume God would already know whatever Dex is asking forgiveness for. Dex isn’t quite sure, which is the other reason why he leaves it at that. Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.

Dex nearly scoffs. You have some part in this too, then, he thinks, wry, before the guilt floods his mouth, bitter.

It has been a long while since he’s taken communion. The papery taste of the wafer is hard to forget, the sweet wine even more so. The other boys in Dex’s religion class snickered at the prospect of drinking. Dex was never that excited about it. 

For one, he’d overhead Ma talking to Aunt Julie about how Father Paul was a recovering alcoholic so he used wine without much alcohol. More than that, though, the thought of sipping from that huge glass, looking up at Father Paul, the man who baptized him and would hear his first confession-- Dex never saw the novelty in it.

Dex turns and sees the confessional, old and white, the same one Dex sat in as a kid, the same one Dad did, too. He stares at it for likely too long before he takes a seat in one of the pews. His running shorts ride up, as he sits, and his bare skin brushes the lacquered wood. It’s a foreign feeling in a familiar space. Dex doesn’t know what it means that he takes comfort in it.

He’s supposed to take comfort in the church. In the scripture. In God and His forgiveness.

“Man, they screwed you up,” Nursey said, in what should have been a laughing tone but was darker, honest, when Dex explained confession, finding solace in forgiveness. Dex didn’t know what his face did when Nursey said this, but it must’ve been pathetic because Nursey’s anger softened in his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, laying his hand on Dex’s chest, over his heartbeat. Skin bare, unbearably warm, all the apology Dex needed. “I just don’t like seeing you like-- this.”

Dex understood that. It’s why he didn’t invite Nursey to come home with him for Spring Break. Nursey didn’t like seeing Dex uncomfortable, uncertain, and he always became defensive on Dex’s behalf, which Dex appreciated at Samwell but couldn’t have in Maine. In Maine, Dex has to be quiet, dutiful, nod along to whatever is given to him. Penance, maybe, for being such a loud thing otherwise.

That’s another thing Nursey would think is fucked up. How Dex reconciles his queerness by being a good son otherwise. He wouldn’t believe, maybe, how Dex is here, compared to how he is at Samwell. “A Poindexter that doesn’t talk back?” Dex can imagine him saying, grinning. “Doesn’t flush at every single “wrong” thing someone says? Is silent?”

Maybe that’s it, too. Why Dex didn’t bring Nursey home. He doesn’t want Nursey to see who he is here. Who he has to be. It’s closer to how he was their frog year than Dex ever wants to be, and he doesn’t want to give Nursey the reminder.

Another thing Dex probably gets from his childhood: the fear that Nursey will realize that Dex doesn’t deserve him and leaves. If Dex was truly the good Christian he ought to be, he’d let Nursey go on and find what he does deserve, or at the very least Dex would confess the selfishness.

Dex hasn’t gone to Confessional since summer break, after his frog year. Even then, he wasn’t being honest. He hasn’t been honest in confessional since he was a freshmen in high school, came to church the morning after drunken parties where he always managed to slip away from the crowd, the watching eyes, press himself between a beer-laden boy and a wall strong enough to hold him up through the tremors.

“Do people confess sex stuff?” Nursey asked. “That seems so awkward.”

“If it’s a mortal sin.” As Dex said this, Nursey’s head rose and fell with the cadence of the words. They were both bare, save for briefs, in the heat of the Haus during an unexpectedly hot spring day. Nursey was using Dex’s stomach as a pillow because his actual pillow was in the freezer so that “all the sides will be the cool side!” Dex stared at Nursey’s curly dark hair, slightly damp with sweat, and told him about mortal sins and sins of the flesh and tacitly told him all the ways Dex was wrong and broken and no good.

“Crazy,” Nursey said, after Dex was finished. “I’m gonna go grab my pillow.” He hopped up from the bed and turned back to Dex, smiling a little. “Want an ice pop?” Dex nodded and Nursey’s smiled widened. “I’m gonna get you a blue one,” he said, bent down, and kissed Dex before he could object to the color of the popsicle. Nursey knew Dex hated the blue ones.

There were things about church that Dex missed. He missed the people, generally, their kindly complaints about their lives and questions into his own, their pride in his successes and encouragements in the face of his failures. He misses the songs, the sound of deep old men voices mingling with the off-key children’s, all of it pursuit of one goal, one God. Dex took comfort in the rules, even when they restricted him. He liked having a set answer: this was good, that was bad.

Samwell made it harder to ignore the parts Dex didn’t like. Like how some of those bad things weren’t, actually, and how the evidence for their conclusions were perverted, cruel, sometimes. How Dex had been taught to crave forgiveness before he could breathe fully, but every time he begged for it to Samwell, to the team, to Nursey, he refused to even acknowledge the need for it.

“Don’t ask me for forgiveness,” Jack said, once, early early on, after Nursey and Dex got in a fight during practice and flubbed a play. “Just be better.”

Dex measured “better” in the wideness of Nursey’s smiles, the blatancy of honesty in Bitty’s laughs. He got addicted to it. Worked for it constantly until he felt like he would never stop being better as long as he lived.

Then he’d come home, where smiles were short and laughs clipped. The lingering looks and pointed questions filled up tallies in the worse column of Dex’s mind and he felt desperate for the easiness of instant forgiveness. He returned to school full of apologies and took all the chances he could to add more of them. The more there was to apologize for, the easier the forgiveness, right? The more available?

“What are you looking for here?” Nursey asked, once, after a long fight, before they were together, after Dex had moved out. “What is the goal of all this?”

Dex blinked back, not knowing the answer.

Forgiveness? If it was forgiveness, why did he never feel good after he got it? Being better felt good. Tasted like warm pastries, felt like an arm over the shoulder on a walk to class.

By that time, Dex hadn’t been to confessional in two years. He wasn’t seeking forgiveness the way he should’ve been. Why?

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.

It was a final kind of thing. With the team, with Nursey, it didn’t end when Dex failed to be better. He kept trying. In confessional, he confessed the sin, did his penance, and was expected to go on and be clean. He never felt clean.

“It’s the Catholic guilt,” Nursey said, mouth blue around the popsicle he’d faked Dex out with. “I know that and I’m agnostic.”

“What’s that mean?” Dex asked, quiet, chewing around a bit of red popsicle. Nursey’s eyebrows went up, ready to chirp, and Dex clarified, “I know what it means generally. I want to know what it means to you.”

Eyebrows down, eyes soft. “For me,” he said, swallowing his bite to speak clearer. “It means that I believe there could be something. Something-- beautiful. Kind.” He curled his popsicle cold fingers around Dex’s wrist. Dex imagined he could feel his own pulse rebelling against the cage of Nursey’s fingertips. “Something that loves coincidences. That hurts when we hurt. Something that wants to be perfect and falls short sometimes. Something good.”

“That sounds nice,” Dex said, keeping his voice smooth even though he knew Nursey could feel his heartbeat echoing through his veins.

“It is.” Nursey said it intently, but kindly. Hopefully.

Thou shalt have no other Gods before me.

That was at the root of it, maybe. Dex had touched boys before Samwell. He’d lied in confessional long before he stopped stepping within its confines. But committing a mortal sin of the flesh and worshiping a false idol were very different things.

Most of the time, recently, when Dex spoke to God, he spoke to an understanding one. One who delighted in Dex’s adoration of Nursey, eased him through his fears.

Being here, in a pew in his childhood church, it was difficult to imagine his prayers going to his kindly God. This God peered down at him through the stained glass windows, frowning at the pale freckled boy within His house.

I hope you can understand, Dex thinks at the frowning figure. I hope you can love this thing you created despite all its broken pieces. Dex smiles at that. I am trying to.

The candle, three from the end, second row, flickers with a draft of wind from a nearby window, left open accidentally. Dex watches the flame for a few moments before standing and making his way down the green carpet aisle. The brightness of the sun, unstained, makes Dex squint, but he keeps going down the steps until the church is behind him.

He doesn’t look back once, even if he feels it looming. He figures that must be progress.

[biaswreckingfics]

No Exit: Part 1

Author: biaswreckingyourlifefics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a mafia AU

Word Count: 3.8K

Character Profiles  |  Next Chapter

You flipped through the radio stations in disgust. Commercial. Commercial. Overrated song played 20 times a day. Ugh, you sigh, putting your hands back on the wheel. You just wanted to find a nice, soothing song after the 12-hour hell shift you pulled at the café. The entire day had been brutal. The new guy at work had messed up three orders in a row, and your boss decided you were the one who should be punished for it. Then, the new kid had ended up spilling scalding hot coffee on your polo, nearly burning the crap out of you. Lastly, to top it all off, you were yelled at by two different customers for something you had no control over. To say the least, you had hit your limit and were beyond ready to be home. A bubble bath and your fluffy bed were calling out your name and would be in reach in about 15 minutes.

After driving through the last intersection that you deemed “safe”, your eyes immediately begin tracking everything outside of the car. The area you lived in defined the word sketchy, but it was all you could afford. Being a full-time college student and working two part-time jobs was not a money maker. The neighborhood was known for drugs and prostitution and was definitely not safe to be in at night. In fact, you avoided being out at night the best you could. Glancing at the clock, you see it’s 12:07am, and you begin cursing your boss all over again. This was why you despised working late shifts, but your boss didn’t give a crap about where you lived. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one that stayed at work that late.

Looking in your rear-view mirror, you see the dark SUV that had turned behind you two intersections ago crossover into “Hell’s Mile��� with you. Turn back now bud, before you find yourself somewhere you don’t want to be, you think to yourself. It was only a few seconds before the vehicle sped up behind you, almost like they were in a hurry to get through this stretch of road. However, you were already going five miles over the speed limit, and you refused to go any faster. God forbid you pop a tire on these pothole littered streets and end up stranded out here. No freaking way.

It took you about five minutes to go from being irritated that the person was riding your ass to afraid for the same reason. Heart beginning to pound in your chest, you realize this person should’ve turned somewhere by now. They’ve been behind you for way too long, and you knew most of the cars in this area. The one behind you was not one you recognized. You turn your attention back to the road and try to calm down. Maybe you’re just being paranoid. Why on Earth would someone be following you?

As you neared a bend in the road, the SUV slowed slightly and put about 10 feet between each of your vehicles. You allowed yourself to breathe for a moment and tried to go back to a less panicked and more logical way of thinking. You are going to be fine. You knew the basics of what to do if someone followed you. Remain calm, drive to a police station, hospital, or somewhere brightly lit and well-populated, and never, ever go home. Mentally pulling up a map, you knew the police station and hospital were across town, so you would have to find a place and make do.

As you drive around the curve, you glance back up into the rear-view mirror. Still there. Still keeping pace with you. Wait… What is that? You squint your eyes towards their passenger window. Something was reflecting off each streetlight you passed, but the streetlights were so few and far between, you couldn’t tell what it was. You lean back into your seat and try to bring your attention back to the road and the curve, and that’s when you hear three loud pops.

Immediately losing control of your vehicle, your small car started spinning towards the side of the road. You brace yourself, knowing whatever was going to happen next would be bad… You feel, rather than see, your car hit the curb, and then it begins to roll. Through your fear, you feel glass flying in at you from the windows, cutting you up, and at some point, your head bashed into the steering wheel so hard, it felt like you had hit a cement wall.

Once your car stops rolling and settles into a stationary position, you give yourself a few seconds to get your bearings under you. You felt sick to your stomach, and you knew you were hurt, but you couldn’t tell how badly. Your arms were covered in cuts and blood, and when you looked into your dangling rear-view mirror, you saw a massive gash on your forehead, pumping blood down your face. What the fuck just happened? Those three loud pops had to be gunshots… Had that car shot out your tires?...

You sit still for a second, trying to wrap your mind around that happening to you. Then, a coldness washed over you. If they shot out your tires, there was a reason for it, and you needed to get out of here before you found out what that reason was.

By some miracle, your car had landed right side up, so you could see outside of the car. About 30 yards in front of you was an office building with a for sale sign in front of it. You had to get to that building before whoever it was came back. Maybe you could find a hideout until help comes… if help was even coming. You undo your seat belt, thanking every god you could think of that it wasn’t jammed, and reach for your door handle, pulling it a few times. When it refuses to open, you give up and crawl out through your broken window, cutting up your back and legs more on the leftover glass. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t even feel the cuts over your panic of getting to safety.

As soon as you clear the car, you begin running towards the building, stupidly not even looking behind you. You were too afraid you’d see the SUV waiting for you. Turning the corner of the building, you run straight into a man’s chest.

You look up at his shocked expression and hear yourself say, “Please, help me…”

Lay’s POV

Chen had just said that the pricks would be coming around the corner any minute. The four males with him all brought their guns up, ready to take these bastards out. From behind him, Suho told him to get a better vantage point, so Lay edged closer to the corner to search for the black SUV. Just when he was about to peek around it, a smaller body ran directly into him, effectively scaring the shit out of him.

It was a female, and she was covered in blood. She looked like she had just walked off the set of a horror movie. Good god, what had happened to her?... She looked up at him with a terrified look on her face and pleaded for help.

Your POV

You looked up at the man in front of you, who seemed frozen at your sudden appearance.

“Please, someone just shot out - ”

As you were talking, your eyes trailed down to the man’s hands and the giant gun that was being held by them. You quickly look back up at him and finally notice more men behind him, with more guns. Any relief you felt rapidly fades away, and you begin backing up.

“I don’t know what you want, but please don’t hurt me…”

To the right, the tallest one of the group quickly raises his gun and points it directly at your head. “This is a trap. It has to be. She’s probably one of their whores. Let’s just kill her now.”

“Saja, wait.”

Surprise went through the four men's faces, and they all looked at the man who had just spoken with odd expressions. If you had to guess, this man was in charge of whatever the fuck this was. He begins to walk towards you, and you back up with every step he takes until you hit the wall of the building. He follows your steps until he stands directly in front of you.

“We’re not gonna hurt you if you don’t give us a reason to.”

“We’re not?” You hear one of the men ask in confusion, but you were too stuck on his words to really think about what he said.

“A reason to?! You just shot out my fucking tires!” You stupidly shout at him. Your brain was screaming at you to stay quiet, but your mouth wasn’t listening. You were too afraid.

From your left, the one you ran into, calmly says, “That wasn’t us.”

“Oh, okay, so there are more guys running around with guns? Fantastic.”

What in the hell is wrong with you? Why are you talking back? Shut up! You mentally yell at yourself.

“She’s starting to give us a reason. She’s annoying and has a mouth.” The one who immediately suggested to kill you grunts.

Before anyone could respond, the sound of screeching tires comes from around the corner of the building. You all look over to the road, and your stomach knots itself. It was them. The SUV that had shot out your tires. They found you. Before you had a chance to react, there were popping sounds from all around you. Three males from the vehicle were hanging out of the windows, shooting at the men around you, and the men were meeting them shot for shot. Holy shit, you were in the middle of a shoot out!

The shots were so loud, it was causing your ears to ring, and there was a high-pitched sound that you couldn’t place. One of the men by you pushes you towards the wall and yells, “Stop fucking screaming!”, and that was when you realize you were the source of that high-pitched sound. You needed to get out of here, but what the hell were you supposed to do? You begin searching for a place to take cover, and when you look to your right, you see the door to the building that you were standing next to. That was your best shot at safety from flying bullets.

Taking a chance, you run out from behind the man you had run into and put everything you had into running for that door. 10 feet. 5 feet. You were almost there...

A loud cry tore out of you as you felt a burning hot pain in your thigh, and you went down to the ground before you could even catch yourself. Through the pain, you force yourself to roll over onto your back, and once you do, you let out a sob. Steeling yourself, you look down at your left thigh and curse as a red smear begins spreading on your blue jeans from the new hole in your leg.

Dear god, you’ve just been shot, and the pain was worse than you could ever imagine. Biting your lip for some kind of relief, you lay your head onto the gravel below you and try to pull yourself together. You were far from safe. Gunshots still rang out from around you, and you knew you needed to continue with your plan. Craning your neck up, you see you’re only a couple of feet away from the door that was now behind you. You could make that. You could totally make that.

Moving to sit up, you begin pulling yourself to the door, but immediately stop when your leg begins screaming in pain. Fuck! You risk a glance back down at your thigh and notice your blood pooling below you. Oh man, that’s a lot of blood. More than you expected actually…

You begin pulling yourself more, panic fueling you. You refused to die outside, in the middle of a shootout, surrounded by a bunch of psychos. Refused. You only made it a few more inches before lightheadedness took over. Then, nothing.

Suho’s POV

He threw his gun onto the ground, not giving a fuck if one of his men got shot. He watched the SUV speed away, and he knew anger was radiating off him. Those bastards got away. Again. If that stupid girl hadn’t distracted him, he would’ve finally gotten them. Who the fuck was she anyway?

He turns back and spots you about 15 feet away from him, passed out on the ground. Walking over to you, he catches sight of the puddle of blood, and with the way Lay was kneeling over you, he knew you had been shot. He sighs, annoyed at the entire situation. Feeling the other men come up behind him, he focuses on Lay.

“How bad is it?”

“She’s lost a lot of blood. The bullet is extremely close to her femoral artery, and if we don’t treat it quickly, she’s gone.” The medic answered him.

“Good, then we don’t have to get rid of her ourselves. We can just leave her here.”

Suho doesn’t respond to Saja’s comment; instead, he continues to watch as Lay takes off his belt and tightly wraps it around your thigh to cut off blood flow. Saja was absolutely correct. They should just leave you there and let you die. Keeps their hands clean and saves them the trouble of getting rid of you. However, Suho needed to know if you were working with them. If they just happened to have one of their enemies’ women, that would give them a huge advantage. On the other hand, if you were completely innocent and knew nothing about them, then you’ve seen too much, and you needed to be dealt with. He rubs a hand down his tired face before deciding.

“Put her in the van.”

“We’re taking her with us?” Chen asks him with surprise.

“I want to know who the fuck she is and how she ended up in this mess.”

Your POV

You slowly open your eyes and blink at the unfamiliar ceiling a few times. Mentally checking over your body, you feel like complete and utter shit. You look around the cold room, and notice men… everywhere… 1, 2, 3, 4… good grief, how many were there? 9? An unsettling feeling falls on you, as they all creepily stare at you. Recognizing a few of them from earlier, you lock eyes with the one you assumed was the leader.

“Well, well, look who decided to finally join us?”

A short man to his right glares at you through thick eyebrows. “Who are you?”

You blink a couple more times, trying to clear your head. “Where am I?”

Another man on the shorter side scoffs. “You don’t get to ask the questions here. Who the fuck are you?”

You ignore him and attempt to sit up, immediately feeling dizzy and nauseous.

The guy you ran into earlier takes a step toward you and says, “You shouldn’t do that yet.”

You question why, and then everything that had happened slammed back into you. “Holy shit, I was shot...”

The one with thick eyebrows rolls his eyes, his voice dropping into a deep growl. “Yeah, join the club. Now, I’m really not gonna ask again.”

The statement he makes forces the reality of the situation to smash into you. Terror momentarily spreads through your body as you look at each of the men. Unfortunately for you, you were stubborn, and you despised being bossed around, so laced with that terror was irritation. There was no way in hell you were telling these people your name.

“I would tell the truth by the way. We’ll know if you’re lying.” Thick eyebrows sidekick chimes in, a little smirk growing on his face.

At his words, you knew they were testing you. If they knew you were lying, then they already knew who you were.

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin when you didn’t answer. “Okay, Nari, here’s how we’re gonna play it. You’re gonna tell us everything you know about the Baem, and maybe we’ll let you live.”

You flinch at your adopted name. He had said Nari and not your real name. You mentally sigh with relief. They didn’t know who you really were. They knew of one of your fake names, and that was it. Then confusion filled you. Baem? Is that what he said?

“The who? And how do you know who I am?” You play along with the name, not wanting them to dig any deeper into your background.

The leader stalks over to you, anger rolling off him. “What were you doing out there? We’re you a distraction?”

Surprise joined your confusion as you pieced together what had happened. If these guys thought you had been there to distract them, then they couldn’t be related to the ones that ran you off the road… Which actually should be obvious to you, since they fucking shot at each other. Clearly, your mind was still somewhere in your abandoned, crashed car.

“Hello. I asked you a question.”

“No…” You quietly say, lost in your own thoughts.

“Hey.” He snaps, pulling your attention back to him. “What were you doing out there?”

“I was driving home and noticed a car following me. Then, I heard a couple of pops, and my car crashed. I was looking for help.”

You didn’t hear who and you couldn’t find the owner of the voice, but you heard a “that’s convenient” from the back. Before you could stop yourself, you laugh.

“Unreal. You people are fucking insane.”

The sidekick who named you, smirks at you in a way that makes you want to scrub your body clean. Twice. “I think you’ll find out just how insane we are.”

You meet his stare, not willing to be the first one to break. You have been through too much bullshit in your life to show a group of thugs you were weak. He smiles at the challenge, determination setting in his eyes, before the leader clears his throat, apparently signaling to the others that it was time to go. You look at the leader and watch as he and the group of men walk out of the door, leaving you alone.

You look down at your body, which was strapped in various places to some type of hospital bed. The only part of your body that you could really move was your head. Looking past the straps, your eyes catch on the blue fabric covering your body. Someone had… changed your clothes and put you into something resembling a hospital gown.

Not willing to let yourself think about that, you sigh and survey the room. Almost directly across from you was the door leading upstairs, and that was the only exit you could see. There wasn’t even a window, which told you that you were probably underground. There were various metal cabinets and a metal cooler with what looked like blood bags in it. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? you question.

Continuing with your search, you look to the right of you and see three more beds, identical to the one you were in. You turn to the left of you and freeze. There was a tray table with surgical instruments on top of it, and they were covered in blood. You quickly look back down at your body. Was that yours? It had to be yours. Nobody else was down here.

“We had to get the bullet out.”

You let out a startled scream, and if you hadn’t been strapped to the bed, you probably would’ve been on your ass. You strain your neck to look up at the head of the bed and see a man looking down at you with raised eyebrows.

“Did you think you were alone?” He questions you.

Obviously, you mentally snark, but you stay quiet and nod. The man was sitting quietly on a stool, observing you. His dark hair was slightly parted and tousled over this forehead, and his face held an air of mischievousness mixed with… kindness? But that didn’t make any sense. You doubted these people even knew what kindness was.

“Who are you people, and why are you keeping me here?”

He continues to stare at you before standing up and completely ignoring your question. “You were shot in the thigh. The bullet hit close to an artery, but you’re either a fighter or stubborn because you somehow made it back here. Along with that, you have a concussion and a broken arm, among your various other cuts.”

The concussion and cuts you knew, but you definitely didn’t remember breaking your arm. You look down at your arms that were covered with a blanket and back up at the man. “A broken arm? How?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “From the accident would be my guess. You probably had enough adrenaline rushing in you that you didn’t even notice.”

You lay there, silently taking it all in. This was some sort of mob or something, not just a group of street thugs. These were guys who were shooting at people and obviously were medically trained. They had their own medical facility for crying out loud. You had a feeling they knew how to make you disappear, and who knew if they would ever let you go. You knew what they looked like, so you had a feeling the odds were not in your favor. You might never make it out of this.

Tears started soundlessly falling down your cheeks. You were scared. Terrified. You look up at the man and decide to ask him again. You really didn’t have much to lose.

“Why am I here?”

He sighs, taking pity on you. “If you cooperate, you’re going to be fine. A word of advice though, talking back is only going to make everything worse and piss us off, and you don’t want to see us pissed off.”

No doubt. “I honestly don’t know who those guys were. I was just driving home from work when they started to follow me…”

“Why? He questions.

You pause. That… was a really good question, and it was one you hadn’t even allowed yourself to think yet. Why were they after you? You were just a barista at a café. Nothing and no one special. At least, not anymore.

You meet his eyes. “I have no idea…”

He lets out a “hmm” and walks towards the door, getting ready to leave. You begin to panic. Who knew how long they planned to keep you down here.

“Wait! You’re just gonna leave me here?!”

He doesn’t even stop or look back at you. You just hear a “yep” and helplessly watch as he opens the door to the stairs. You lay your head back down and look up at the ceiling. Great. What the hell were you going to do?

[thorsstorms]

Abroad Pt. 3

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 4k

A/N: After reading, leave me a little comment down below about what you would do if you ever had the chance to watch IW with a Chris!

Masterlist

He ended up sleeping in longer than normal, the flight from the day before wore him out. He woke up to find you and India were gone, but both boys were still sound asleep. He checked the time on his phone, 8:03 AM. He slowly brushed the boys off him so they could remain sleeping before he tiptoed his way out of the room. The sound of music playing in the kitchen was drawing closer. He turned slowly and saw you and Indy making breakfast dancing silly around the kitchen. He quickly snapped a short video of you both and sent it to his brother to show his wife, seeing as it was her song you both were jamming to.

Liam: nice, good taste of music!

Liam: Shes pretty too

Chris: I know

“Papa!” India yelled when she saw him standing there looking at his phone. You didn’t dare turn around, your face was probably tomato red and the thought that he caught you two being silly.

After breakfast, you worked with the kids for a few hours while Chris went to go meet with his trainer. The usual week day morning routine took place, quite calmly. When the boys were both asleep upstairs and Indy was occupied with a book, you walked back down to the kitchen to finish cleaning up the breakfast mess. The playlist on again as you started to pick up little toys and shoes that the kids had left around the house.

“Jamming to Miley again?” His voice startled you, not hearing the garage door because of the music. The teasing in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. He started to set his belongings down on the counter.

“Actually, you just so happened to catch me twice in a row. I have a lot of music!” You said matter of factly, turning around to him. You were starting to get good at not staring for too long, and not allowing his presence to catch you off guard. “Plus I don't know if you know this but I’ve been ‘jamming’ to Miley since I was like… 12,” you said adding air quotes. His eyes lit up like he was surprised, but decided to not say anything more. You returned to gathering toys and taking them up to the playroom.

Before Chris walked into his room, presumably to shower, you told him you and India were going to the grocery store and that the boys were asleep upstairs. Your mind wandered to his room, what it looked like. You had never seen it, as it was skipped over on your little tour he gave you when you first got here. But you always watched him disappear into it, your eyes following him till he was no longer in sight.

Chris had stayed home for about two and half weeks so far. After they finished filming the new MIB movie he was home very often. You both fell into little routines revolving around the kids, stolen glance included. Most of the time you both would do your own thing, India even came with you to see Bri in Gold Coast for lunch one afternoon.

She started to become your little companion, a little shadow. You surprised her father one night when she wanted to play in your makeup, doing it for you with a beautiful pink shimmer slapped across your eyelids and a dark purple lipstick to match. With identical makeup looks, you both snuck up behind him on the couch. Although he expressed how great it looked to her, you could see the wide eyed ‘why is my 6 year old wearing makeup’ look sent your way. You just shrugged and smirked, how could you say no to her?

This week was one of those weeks where Elsa was spending time with the kids at her place. She was in town for a few days and was spending every minute with them. When they left you almost felt sad, but quickly reminded yourself that you are kid free.

Bri came down on Saturday and spent the day with you in the sun and in the water. Chris was meeting his friends for a cookout a couple houses down, so you and Bri had the afternoon alone. You gave her a quick little tour of your loft space and then you both booked it down to the water. She was not shy on asking you a million questions about him.

“Other than the fact that I want to climb him like a tree 24/7, he is seriously just like a normal dad. He’s a good cook. He’s very involved so we end up doing a lot together,” you sat back in the chair, closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin.

“So… have you done it yet?” she said nonchalantly next to you.

“Done what yet?” you grumbled knowing exactly what she was getting at.

“You know, climbed him like a tree,” she said mocking you.

“Bri,” you said as a warning, not wanting this conversation to go any farther. You scolded her once again like you had done repeatedly in the past, that you were there for the kids not him, and it would be inappropriate. She never failed to mention that you were both single and living under the same roof. “I have to think logically about this stuff, it’s too good of a job to ruin.”

“Holy shit, is that him?” Your eyes finally opened from under your sunglasses to see three guys surfing not too far down the beach from you. You watched them for a minute, the current bringing them slowly closer towards you.

“Yes,” you mumbled, finally looking away. The internal fight you have to have with yourself on a daily basis was so tiring that you had to force yourself to look away. Bri on the other hand did not exactly cover her ogling when he started walking to shore towards you both.

“Bri check yourself,” you mumbled to her. She quickly looked away and tried to act casual by picking up her beer between the chairs.

“Ladies!” He said walking up to you both, dropping his board in the sand.

“Having fun out there?” You said casually, not opening your eyes under your glasses. You were laying back once again and refused to look up and see what you might call ‘the end of all logic.’ You would, you knew if you opened your eyes to look at him you would probably jump on him.

“Aww yea, the wake is just perfect, you should check it out yourself,” he tried again to insinuate that you try to surf. He had tried to let you learn one day and you shot him down quickly.

“Oh no, I’m fine thanks,” you said quickly, shifting in your seat. You could feel his eyes on you, as you gripped the arms of the chair.

“Come one (y/n), it’s not bad,” he urged on. You felt a couple of drops of water hit your legs and you could feel he was standing closer to you.

“Chris, honestly….. No,” that was the best you could come up with as to reasons why you should not learn to surf. That’s when you felt your sun get blocked. Ok, eyes are opening. You squint your eyes open and saw him reach for your hands before grabbing and pulling your grasp from the chair.

“Chris I’m serious!” You yelled back at him, though it wasn’t very convincing, fighting his hands away from you. His goofy smile was bright on his face, ignoring your pleas. Bri sat quietly and watched with amusement as he eventually had you on your feet and over his shoulder in a split second and was already walking towards the water. Maybe it was the few beers you had, or the few too many that he had as well, but you both were enjoying this way too much. Even though you struggled against his grip, your goose bumps magnified 100% when you could feel his hands grasp on to your thighs, and the feeling of your hands holding on to his waist, scared you were going to fall. Through all the “Chris put me down”s and all the “the water feels great”s, you didn’t notice he was already almost waist deep before he dropped you in the water.

It wasn’t the cold water that startled you, it was the fact that you just stepped on something hard as soon as your feet hit the ground. As quick as they went down, they jumped back up.

“Fuck! I stepped on something!” You screamed and grabbed on to his arms to keep from going back down. He threw his head back and a loud laugh pulled from him as you tried your best to stay up, throwing your arm around his shoulder, searching the water below for whatever it was.

“Stop laughing!” You yelled at him, still looking around for whatever it was frantically.

“It…. It was my foot!” He barely spit out between laughs. His face going red. You watched his face contort into never ending laughter. Your heart thumping out of your chest when you realized that you were in fact, climbing him like a tree. You quickly pulled you arm off his shoulder and slowly touched the ground with your toes, making sure you didn’t feel anything in the sand. Your face was matching his color by the time you realized how silly it was.

“God, seriously,” you grumbled to yourself, pushing him away so you could walk to the shore. You heard his steps splashing and his laughs starting to die out as he followed you in. Now it was going to be impossible to stop staring at him. You made it to Bri quickly, immediately dismissing her stares and whatever comment was about to spill out. He followed up behind you still catching his breath from laughing. Of course Bri has to ask what’s so funny like she didn’t just see it. Chris couldn’t even tell her without laughing. You started to get annoyed at how funny he thought this was. You didn’t even want to go into the water in the first place, secondly it wasn’t exactly appropriate, not for you to have enjoyed it that much.

“Ok, yea while y’all laugh it out, I’m going to shower,” you were not in the mood to be around them right now. You were annoyed at yourself for the most part. You have tried so hard to stay cool around him like he doesn’t affect you but he blows the border completely. At least the kids were not there. The kids.

You sat down on the patio, not exactly wanting to go inside yet because you were still soaking wet. You watched as Chris sat down in the chair you were occupying. His head turning to Bri, listening to what she was saying. You groaned at the thought of her blabbering off to him about god knows what. You watched them for a little bit, them both talking back and forth, and once Chris turning his head back to see you sitting on the patio, though you quickly looked away and pretended to be occupied with your phone. What, were you a child? You felt so silly, like playing a game at this point: avoid eye contact at all costs. You looked up, deciding that that was stupid and saw him standing from the chair and grabbing your towel. Your phone buzzed in your hands.

Bri: RUN.

You didn’t know what it meant but you weren’t questioning it. You quickly stood up and booked it inside. You were already up to your room and starting the shower as soon as you heard the back door shut. Ok, so forget trying to act like an adult.

Bri was sitting on the couch with her phone in her hand when you got out of the shower. You ignored her and got changed into some yoga pants and a loose t shirt.

“So,” you called from your room, picking up some clothing. “What did you say to him?” You asked her, walking in front of her so she couldn’t lie to your face.

“Honestly it’s not even that bad-”

“What. Did you say?” you asked again.

“I told him that I hadn’t seen you this happy in a long time,” she replied, looking you dead in the eye. “I told him that you looked happy being here with him,” you groaned and plopped down next to her. “What? I told you it wasn’t that bad!” She defended herself.

“Well did you word it like that?!” you whined knowing she was telling the truth.

“(y/n) seriously, stop being so dramatic,” she sat back on the couch returning to her phone.

“Bri. Seriously. I can’t get involved with him,” you told her for the last time. You stood up walking away to grab a water from the mini fridge.

“And why the fuck not?” She started to raise her voice. “You can’t give me one reason!”

“The fact that he’s my boss is reason enough!” You snapped back at her. Her phone went off again on the table. “And who the fuck keeps texting you!” You said looking down at her phone. Confusion and then understanding quickly flooded your emotions. It’s a joke, right? Your eyes slowly lift from her screen to look at her in front of you.

“Tell him I said hi,” you spoke lowly. If death was a stare, this would be it. She just gave you a blank stare, not even trying to deny it. “You should go.”

“Really?” she asked, as if checking to see if you were serious.

“Really,” Your eyes followed her as she grabbed her things from the table and made her way to the stairs. “You can text me when your done fucking around with him, feel free to tell him the same,” ok, that was mean. You followed her down the steps, wanting to make sure she leaves, not sticking around to say shit to Chris.

“How about you call him and not hang up on him for seconds so he can actually talk to you!” She opened the door at the bottom and you watched her take a step out into the hallway.

“I told you years ago Bri! Anyone BUT him!” You yelled back at her as she opened the garage door. Your voice was cracking when emotions started to rise. you hated fighting with her but you hated her involvement with your brother even more.

“At least I’m honest with myself,” she said calmly as she walked away from you. You shut the door in front of you and turned on your heels to go back up stairs. Chris was standing there in the walkway to the kitchen, staring at you as you turned around. He watched you awkwardly as you reached your door. Small tears started to rise up behind your eyes, you always hated confrontation, you were never able to handle it well.

“Are you ok?” He asked quietly. Although the answer was known to him, felt compelled to ask anyway. You mumbled a ‘yea’ and ignored him as you started walking back up the stairs. He silently followed you up, but you didn’t say anything, though you should have. You walked straight to the wine cooler and pulled out a small bottle of fireball, setting it on the counter, staring at it. He came to stand next to you, resting his hands on the counter. He started to pull two shot glasses from the cabinet, but you just grabbed the bottle and took a quick gulp of it before setting it back down.

“Who needs shot glasses,” you mumbled walking away from the counter towards the couch. Chris followed you silently, grabbing the bottle and pulling a blanket from the linen closet, setting it on the couch between you both. He reached for the tv remote and kicked up his feet and unfolded the blanket, laying it across his legs. You watched him like he was out of his mind. He pulled up netflix and started to scroll through.

“What are you doing?” You asked quietly, still watching him, but he never acknowledged that you were staring.

“Just picking a movie,” he mumbled, unscrewing the lid of the fireball as his eyes scanned the tv screen. You settled back into the couch as he clicked through your recents.

“You don’t have to-”

“Ahh look, a great movie!” He cut you off. You looked at the screen and saw Ragnarok pulled up.

“Ok, no. I’m not nearly drunk enough to watch this with you,” you told him quickly. He just smirked and clicked out of it. You grabbed to bottle from his hands and took another drink, your face twisting in disgust as the strong cinnamon taste lingered.

“You know what, lets watch Infinity War,” you said, knowing you’ve got too many questions to ask. With a couple more swigs of fireball you knew you could handle the movie with him. 

“Really?” He was so surprised, but clicked on it anyway.

“Yea why not, Cap looks so good with the beard,” you added calmly. You pulled his blanket over your legs, nestling into the couch. You smirked when you felt his head snap in your direction.

“Great, now I’m not nearly drunk enough to watch this with you,” he mocked you, pulling the bottle from your hands, starting the movie.

“So,” you whispered as Thanos came on screen. “Is Loki really dead?” You questioned seriously. He just rolled his eyes and faced back to the screen. Both of you turned away from the screen cringing when Thor started yelling in pain. Chris, out of embarrassment. You, out of... yea, embarrassment. You passed the bottle to each other again.

When the Guardians music started to play you wiggled in your seat, a smile growing on your face. You were too excited to sit still. Every 5 seconds you would turn back to Chris’s face to see if he was reacting in any sort of way, knowing he was about to be on screen. You tried to hold in your giggles as you stared back and forth to him and the screen. As soon as Thor slammed into the wind shield and the racoon started yelling about wipers, your laughter wasn’t able to be held in any longer. It bubbled out of your mouth uncontrollably when Chris gave you the side eye. The whiskey just hit you hard. You watched the screen as Gamora was yelled at by Peter, your mouth was having trouble staying closed. Chris watched you from the side, as the lights from the tv illuminated your face. He was so content to sit here and watch you react to the movie like it was your first time seeing it all over again.

“You gotta do it,” he watched as you turned to him when Thor jumped off the table. “Do it do it do it,” you chanted to him, sitting up on your knees shaking his shoulder with both hands, but watching the tv as Thor turned around and saw the Guardians. You watched him as he mumbled the ‘Who the hell are you guys’ and you were about to fall off the couch. That’s it, no more whiskey.

Chris never took his eyes off you, even when you turned back to the screen. His heart was so full watching you. He would say it to you every day for the rest of your life if it meant hearing you laugh like that, if it meant seeing your bright smile overwhelm your features, if it meant seeing you happy with no care in the world. Or maybe it was just the alcohol.

“Oooooo shit!” You yelled as Captain America came on screen, catching the weapon that was thrown at him after the train cleared. When his face came into the light you let out another holler. “Damn,” you mumbled to yourself, not being able to control your mouth anymore. While Chris sat next to you, looking annoyed as all get out.

Farther into the movie you got quieter, snuggling deeper into the blanket. Your head was spinning every time you tried to change positions. Some point into it, you were pressed against him, though you were almost ignoring him completely because the movie seemed more interesting to your drunk self.

Chris on the other hand was having trouble even looking at the screen. He was enjoying admiring you so close while you weren’t looking. His hand was rested over your shoulder, snaking under the blanket, his hand feeling the soft skin of your arm. He watched your profile. The way your eyes widened when something was happening and you couldn’t look away. They way the flickered across the screen with interest. The small smiles you would get when a joke was made. He eventually watched your eyes fill with tears as soon and Bucky fell. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you finally turned to him while some others where fading in the forgotten screen in front of him.

“What?” He grumbled quietly, concerned about the frown in your face.

“You know what,” you looked away from him as Peter was slipping out. “Your aim sucks,” you said with a straight face. He couldn’t bring himself to laugh, but he just squeezed over your shoulders pulling you impossibly closer. You mindlessly shuffled on to your side, your shoulder falling in between you both. Your head rested against his chest as your attention on the movie was fading away. Suddenly you were hyper aware of your surroundings.

You could feel his heart beating against you, and him thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. You could feels his eyes that never left their gaze. You stayed there, not wanting to move, or not wanting to look at him, feeling him was enough.

“(Y/n),” he whispered as your eyes remained on the scrolling credits. His hand stopped moving against your skin.

“Hmm,” you acknowledged him, but you were afraid to move. Your alcohol ridden brain was over thinking moving from his grasp. All you had to do was sit up, but it wasn’t what your heart was feeling. His free hand lifted to your head, brushing the hair that falls into your face out of the way. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes.

Chris wasn’t about holding out any longer. The need to taste your lips on his was overwhelming his senses. Against all better judgment he pressed his lips to yours. It was light, and fresh. He was quick to pull away brushing his thumb over your cheek bone, hesitating if this was a good idea or not. It wasn’t, but that was not what had your mind reeling. You quickly pressed yourself to him, eager to taste the cinnamon on his lips. Your hand grabbed at his wrist, holding him in place. With a swift intake of breath, his lips molded with yours perfectly. Everything around you disappeared but the intensity that you both put into each other. His arm around your back pulled you tight against him, his fingertips pressing into you. He dipped his tongue in, expertly drawing  the best pleasures from inside you. Your body lit up, a fluttering shock ran up your spine that turned you almost numb against his touch.

His touch that should not be on you. His touch that you vowed to yourself, you were going to avoid. You hurriedly pushed off of him with wide eyes. You sat up straight on the couch, your hands gripping the cushion to keep you steady from the head rush. “We can’t,” you mumbled to yourself more than him. He heard you, and knew it, but he didn’t want to. He wanted you to give in to yourself and let him hold you and let him kiss you. He knew that you could feel what that kiss did for you both. He sat up straight and ran a hand over his face, sighing.

“I want food,”- “I’m hungry,” you both mumbled at the same time, looking around the room aimlessly like you didn’t know what to do next. You tried to stand up, but about fell forward on to the coffee table before he grabbed your arm. You together carefully walked down the stairs, holding the railing.

“There’s nothing good,” he said to himself, looking to the fridge that was filled with vegetables, and everything that took an effort to cook. He grabbed a cold water bottle and checked the freezer.

You retreated to the dining table and sat down. “There’s pizza rolls in there.”

“You feed my kids that shit,” he questioned over his shoulder. You hummed in reply, not having much energy left to speak, much less keep your head off the table.

TL: @innerpaperexpertcloud @rosiethebaker

[winterinwhiskey-blog]

Brawls by Anatomy.

“Can romance actually be beaten out of you?”

A swipe of worn out cotton turns into a swab as some other’s phrase turns its punctuation to transform into some half erased format of a full-stop written onto my motions over the bar’s veneer, and don’t get me wrong, I didn’t stop but it was a slur, bleeding out like that borderline tug of control you keep by iced out logic when everything else is burning Tennessee Fire in your mind. You fake your sobriety better than you act when you’re sober — unaware, because feeling filtered would actually not screen for your pain in projection this time.

But you don’t ever really stop doing what you do, not anymore, anyway, That control doesn’t get to slip you.

Muddled waters on mahogany, reflections colouring on amber in ripples that wouldn’t wave in a tide and I look for shades of purple in the faces that wave on by, perhaps kissed with the tempered blue in hue of a Bailey’s Comet — more over flesh than in one tablespoon of Rum and a sprinkle more of salt over someone’s wounded pride than over lemon of a shot of vodka.

Inebriation, came in so many colors than the tenured tones of honey that glazed over empty glasses that filled up one too many hearts — black for eyes, brittle blue for bones, red for shots of blood that flooded sockets as reason drained out of eyes; and here I was, some regulated or regulating enabler for miseries profound or liquids that over-dramatized pain into an excuse for harm.

Ironical, really.

But it was a shrine of lies, in ways. Jabs of half-honesty as we drank disgust to wash out the loathing that lurched up our own throats. Picking drinks in our name of tolerance to evade someone else’s as our lips soured up to forget kisses in fashion no intent of pucker could beg to relive but we tongue down over and over again to forget. But well, sometimes, it was in the name of remembrance with the exclusion of the fancies or the tails in a mixture fruited up one too many as you stick to the harsh honesty — those doses of separation to leash out the well-bred bitch in your barks of whiskey than to lash out in some poison that bastard breeds boiled on to live up to the name of being a dog, excluding loyalty; or well perhaps the loyalty lay to suffer out the sickness that they pissed themselves in.

Pain drinks to forget, suffering drinks to be understood.

And a diagnosis superior — trauma drinks to understand.

I’d know.

Inherent green-flecked blues fall onto the silhouette of personal therapists on some top bottom row, lines by lines of identical matrix marched black uniforms with those starred badges across — Jack Daniel’s, by the army. Signing off or out of each infliction of imagination or trip down acid lane to streets that wind far away from the backdoor in spirals of multiplications of nightmarish grog in fumes that snap the door by the hinges open onto the ruins of ecstasy, not by definition but by the pace of some reel that was sped up by double and we all about onto someone else’s home, spiralling in dances as the disgust clogged the insides of your throats to drinking what he would have been, or perhaps would pick up to touch by his incarnation of disgust and the only spiral onto maven avenues of hostile grounds, shrapnel by loss of pride by the feet over the pour of ribs or the firework splatter of glass against the matching strike of your scalp and you drink, the only bit he didn’t so you don’t ingest what he does — no more snarking worms of his presence griming the veins between your flesh and skin, heating up like rust over water, coagulating and suffocating like the bubble of clotted blood by to bring out that cherry sparkle of your eyes that leafed out your irises like some trampled flower shoved by bloody ends of fingernails into your sockets and you rely, on that one bottle of whiskey in winter; to keep you clean on a carpet you no longer lay on bloody.

Only, physically.

Unwinding the razor wire of thoughts that left the tracings in rectangular rent of cuts by the payment of my flesh, only in memory over the fences of the heart in its defences and I look about again, tracing the upheaval of romance or its beatings as my hands kept at the violent swipes of cleaning the bar for the girl who asked up such triggers; but some charade we played, answer the least by the face of what you know the most. Your own muscles should be the last in line to betray you in a run but well, betrayal beckoned by instinct within guts more than any outlier outcome.

“I swear, it’s like he bangs me up so fucking hard... who the hell even needs romance after sex like that?”

A single shaped brow has its inquiry in distasteful amusement at the speech privileged humans in all the riches of unadulterated expectations of life — tongues can only be under practice for getting choked up until wounds needed to be licked.

Moments innumerable uncounted do pass as what a crude altar of abuse and its fascinations truly abided for the shrine of sex.

But perhaps, I had grown sensitive to all misguidances of such religions.

“Kevin!”

Several eyes dart over in search for some Male recipient to answer for the name but they never really expect this shapely, kinda thinly, somewhere between a tomboy and a proper lady walk through with a carved up face for a name like that.

It had been some months since I had been working at my brother Cain’s bar, managerial creativities while the fucker chased away Hollywood dreams or just finally swapped the nightlife for a bit of Dawn. He was occupied, to say the least and I neededto be occupied so may as well.

I put aside the towel from my shoulder like some silk falling off of bones, but in an aggression of an impatient temper that set fire to the essence of any fabric of tenderness; shifting onto on booted feet under denim clad long legs with this rusted green of battle verdant hugging about subtle enough curves, fire breathes seemed to defy in appearance for lungs of ice and as confused and appealed on on-lookers of fascination Look onto my steps as I go on to Abe, a wrestler-built cashier here, veins grow frost under bite as his finger points back with the appraisal of, “Someone’s got a delivery for you, and he’s outside.”

Face and cheeks in form of confusion as a single brow raises in inquiry of a demand everyone knew to answer without a word and Abe just swings up his shoulders with palms in surrender and my eyes take a roll.

“Backdoor!”

Temperamental scowl set in place, I tread through.

And the metal hinges of the heavy door open up and as the winter ice blows in a harsh exhale to battle out whatever I was inhaling, whatever content ever found up on this face flies in spirals onto the warmth of the world of gold behind me, and I stand on the threshold of darkened blue, fourth degree of a bruise, I’d call it. And the berry black of a blood-bound bayou of fists of five by the dips of the curves; separation in contract and contrast of what was champagne on ice and damage on grind.

I stand, scowl-settled that takes half a flight into a relaxation of muscles for an inch of movement for the face that came into view wasn’t a tax I was paying under any governing of mutiny even if a hand was lain on me.

“You got some fucking balls but that was the point you were overly intent on showing, weren’t you, you fucking bastard.”

That twitch goes off over that thin sweated forehead, I see the struggle in the vein like a thinly worm trapped in a pipe smaller than its width, trying to breathe or still instead of explode and it was funny how beyond behaviour you could fall into seeing with bashing blurs.

“Kev, we need to—“

“You need to separate my conjunctions in person from your name before—“

“K— listen—“

“Showing up isn’t the daring part but doesn’t it disgust you to your guts to even come about—“

“I just want to—“

»

“— K—!”

I shut the door.

Metal cuts out the cords, only by sound.

I bump into Cain, he wasn’t supposed to be here, and wavering arms brush him aside as I stumble on, only in mind as my balance knows its grips in anxiety.

Blank.

My eyes roam for all the dust and dunes in golden tunes that hung from this bar with each step I take back in, people abuzz with the bubblies they popped from champagnes or the colourless compassion that masked their kindnesses and I appreciate Cain the Dickhead’s hard work by his own feet instead of having my concentrations fall onto the ripples of deluxe rich cotton, the pretentious spares over the bones of this dickhead’s torso.

Reels on reels of past project in films of spins that aren’t on roll but are on hold against the case of your skull, some shelves your trauma builds on, categorised to drop in loops without escape once it plays on.

Arms on arms of struggles in reflexes.

Wall wars.

Couch crushed potato.

Glass shattered doll.

Carpet corpse.  

Static.

Contemplation into and away to not contemplate on each bad memory that whispered up by the claws of some silent song out of by mind’s eye, subverted out to scream dreams of fantasies out my reasons.

And I only called them fantasies for the scenarios came on as imaginative, more to be done in some dystopian domination out of the box of creation of what was already broken. Pieces onto bones.

Well, I was merely killing myself in my own head repeatedly by hands that wouldn’t ever resemble my own.

But it had gotten to some point now where my nails could take up a pound of flesh from any merchant that charged up for more.

It’s a coil around the lungs, constricting in so that the flaky clumps of flesh fall out through the sliding gaps in rolls up, suffocating cutting through but the shallows of your eyes fell for the heartburn even if no face seen blurs down the youth that slipped in tension taut by the muscles every second.

Noise.

“KEVIN.”

A dazed “hmm?” finds sound as I turn by the head over the shoulder.

“Some new-act bikers are fighting to change onto whatever the fuck but it’s Grey’s hour.”

“Borrow some balls.

For Christ’s fucking sake. Where’s Abe?”

“Don’t be so mean. He went out somewhere to deal with something.

But Kev, you already got so near to charges and that police officer last time said he wouldn’t—“

“I’ll see you when I’m in court, Judge Judy.”

Warranted steps are taken against precautions and maples ways are made over to the black-leathered riot that took up the rackets over actual proper civilians and not rats dressed in human-skin. Or some tattooed up sorry excuse for flesh.

“Boys.”

It wasn’t a scream but the coldness always seemed to cut through like an icicle in decided departure through the noise.

Tired eyes blink up to widen through the sleepless adventures of yet another weight unregistered but I’ll process when I woke up. Or something.

Some fucker turns, toothpick in chew by the edge of the jaw and my mouth has an inward-upward, nearly negligible curl of distaste at the phantom feel and thought of chewed up wood by the teeth.

Reasons to gag, the counter wouldn’t stop up.

“Man, we won’t be changing channels if we got to look you over all night.”

My gaze assesses, some bored and nearly non-receptive recession within my mind as I see the remote in the asshole’s hand.

You had one job, Abe.

“Respectfully, sir.

Hand the remote back. We follow a strict rotation of shows here and our regulars don’t like interruptions.”

The man takes a step forward, or two. And I calculate in coldness and mechanisations of preparations of the seven streets of probabilities this would be taking and I feel the intake of held air on behalf of the entire room — having sucked all the air in for this vacuum ring of battle and blood and speculation, clearing up for the tension in the air before the thunder struck in all its peace.

“Baby, we all could become a regular for you.”

“The whore house is down the main road and if you confused addresses, I can write it down for you.”

The man tuts, tossing the remote back onto his crew, that awkward moustache or beard masking manic onto that dire smile as an arm rounds about to have a palm smacked onto my ass and statue-still marble, —

“You’ve got a tongue on you, don’t you? How about—“

A panic flutter of ‘fuck’ comes about in a tone that coloured on knowledge of my behaviours. And Fucking Hell, it was that second of silence before the ring slips off the slit of a bomb before shrapnel showers in engulfing atoms of losing ligaments and shattered limbs.

— and the cracks appear, after one second of composure as a thin arm slides up back against the gruff of his neck to lead the the pressure point by the elbow while a knee unleashes its wrath onto his guts, spilling balance over to lean his gravity over my shoulder as I side step to let the pull decelerate him onto the ground and the groans in pain subsides.

Just instincts onto its coldness, a thin sheet of emotionless ice.

Robotic programming onto nerves of humanity, not to brim over the consoles of control on another program to avoid technical errors of an outburst.

I turn around, a breath not seemed to have been lost.

“Remote.”

My palm tells for its property back in a calm that raged out in waves of instilled rage itself and —

“You fucking bitch.”

— Fingers tangle onto the back of my skull with no intent of anything but beat indications and some blinded blurs of sightless runs as my head has its impact onto the edge of a counter, the brow bone in detriment alongside the shelves of recorded events of trauma rattling to fall from organisation and I sit a minute in the daze of crimson that rolls in syrup dense moments over an eye and the man keeps on his walk, that glory on his heels adding that misogynistic shine from that exhalation of power over what seemed fragile that seemed to be modelled after Hermes’s steps one too many times and I did think of innocence lost in flashbacks of Percy Jackson renditions or whatever seemed suitable one too many times.

It’s a mechanical bull, the number one.

And long legs graduate themselves onto a stand before slanting themselves onto a run with arms in a quarter envelope of measurement of his hips; the disgust of touch creeping in by thought but not now as I degree onto a barrel from behind with every fragment of strength I will into muscle energy into this thinly body and it has customers flying from their tables as the wooden legs give away from the weight of the crash over.

You take a ride, from anyone.

And I think in technical flows. Mechanical, perhaps. The worst manifestation of rage where its presence was just absence; hollow, a ghost, grabbing onto some chair by its dangling legs and smashing whatever it had to splinter over the man’s head.

Everyone, wants to ride.

White rage, it was a sheet of snow, truly for me. Some song in Chilli Peppers, lacking Red and more on its absence as claws and bottles break in some slashes unforeseen and screams tearing through pain in sockets —

And pulls away, oh.

— until some set of arms find their ripples in fixative contact over the downpour of my curves as the bullets of punches don’t get to infill their magazine and the trigger finally sets in close contact, chest on my spine and my entire nervous system seems compromised by contact of cotton and skin and I scream and legs wade for kicks to barrel against the winds and wage backwards as the sirens in wails cry through my chaos as whoever was holding me back strategically but honestly blindly hit the barrier behind.

And I hear Cain’s loud call and the bustle of doors.

From you.

A spin and a flash of ash-lined, light eyes and somewhat a familiar face, perhaps by some silhouette; before some other fucking male voice finds further dominance over assistance of a megaphone.

“Kevin Reed, put your hands in the air.

You are under arrest.”

( end. )