#this was suppose to be a quick outfit study but I got so absorbed that I had to sorta render it or I will die

[humbuns]

ghost king

[hrina]

Something Strange

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

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

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

~*~

    October 2nd, 2021

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

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

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

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?”

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

You balk. “Pardon me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

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

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

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

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

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

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

      October 5th, 2021

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

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

You roll your eyes. Of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really.”

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

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

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

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

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

There it is again. Babe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

      October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

      October 9th, 2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

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

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

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

The lights go out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

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

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

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

“Thirsty?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

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

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

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

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

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

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

It’s real. Sincere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

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

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

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

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

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

“A con?”

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

He shrugs.

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

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

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

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

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

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

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

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You squeak.

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

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

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

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking—”

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

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

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

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles.

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

      October 10th, 2021

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

“Good morning, dear!”

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

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

Mindy laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Shut up.”

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

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

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

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

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

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

You pause, lost in thought.

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

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

hey,,,your thoughts and headcanons on indchuran college au 😳😳😳😳😳(i am very predictable as per usual)

o-o o-o college aus have my heart so thank you for the ask! These turned out as platonic/general hcs but I hope you like them nonetheless! (also this isn’t really associated with any set AU and is separate from the indchuran bros for life AU)

notes: this is based on the little I know about how US colleges/universities work ahahah sorry for any inaccuracies lol

— They’re all in the same year, and China and India got put in a dorm together with Iran next door (oh my god they were roommates ;) )

— They meet when Roshan heard Aditya’s got a copy of a book they wanted, went over to borrow it, and found Aditya trolling Yao with meme songs while the latter was wearing headphones and trying to study (this is kinda half assed and I don’t think it’s funny enough so if you’ve got another meeting scenario please do tell 👀)

— Yao’s fashion is a hot mess, per usual. It’s half lazy college student wear and half blinding eye-strain. Sometimes he still goes edgelord mode and does dark colors and goth attire when he’s particularly annoyed or grumpy (in addition to threatening to evict Aditya/steal all his possessions if he’s bugging Yao); Aditya and Roshan just coo at this. 

— Roshan dresses very eccentrically. I think it’s called the art hoe aesthetic? They dress like an art student but pick even more outlandish outfits. But it’s elegant in an eye-catching way, and it makes them stand out a lot. They like it and also love the attention it gets them :) also Roshan would be an amazing person to ask for clothing opinions, except that they might criticize your current outfits too much hksdfsdf

— As for Aditya, I don’t really have a set image for him really? lol I'd give anything to see him dressed in some kind of academia aesthetic (glasses are a bonus), but I feel like his style is more casual and comfy? just average person casual shirts and hoodies. Still knows how to pick good outfits though, but makes awful decisions when in the wrong headspace (like being Severely sleep deprived)

— Yao either studies a) business b) politics c) game theory d) a mix of all three (overachiever). I think he’d also take some of those like, quantum math classes and stuff just to ~expand his horizons~ and ends up taking enough to get a minor in that. Also absorbs STEM stuff from other people although he never went that route :\

— Roshan studies art history! They’re wicked at math as well though, I think they’d definitely be interested in studying pure mathematics as either a minor or a fun side hobby.

— Aditya minors in literature/creative writing and regularly waxes poetic about life. He also complains about the school cafeteria food in flowery prose. Yao yells at him to just make food himself if it’s so bad, but it’s too much effort 😔 (this is literally me)

I’m still undecided on what he majors in, but for now I’m stealing your hc that it’s biophysics :>

— Yao’s tried dabbling in stocks as part class project and part personal side hobby; one of his professors probably helps him with this, and somehow he gets a lot of money even though he invests in some very questionable things that look like shitpost material

— Courtesy of talking with @luyous, these three competitively study during midterms/finals season. They hardcore compete to get the best grades, even though they’re in different majors, and literally. the temperature heats up a couple degrees in the dorm when they’re revising because they all want to “beat” the other two 😭

— Literally they’re such bookworms but have a thirst for being The Best 😔

— Yao has a shit sleep schedule and both Aditya and Roshan have called him out on this multiple times; Aditya more often because they share a room and it’s kind of annoying when your roommate’s desk lamp is still on at 3 AM while you’re supposed to be sleeping. He eventually bought an eye mask for this but still has to forcibly drag Yao to bed at least once a week.

— Aditya is the resident boomer and tech hoe (although he fools around on the computer more than he does useful stuff) inspiration from you raunak <3

— Roshan and Aditya once tricked Yao into watering a fake plant they bought from Target for a full five months :) They keep a log of the shenanigans on their respective social medias as proof <3

— Roshan has a windowsill with a line of very cute potted plants! It’s very aesthetic and they show them off to anyone who asks. Don’t touch though because the plants are their babies

— Aditya sings very well! Has perfect pitch and all that. Does karaoke nights with friends, drags Yao along even though all he does there is type away on his laptop (and sometimes glances up to simp for Aditya). Often prank calls acquaintances, occasionally with Roshan, because he’s also pretty good at voice acting

— Out of the three, Aditya’s probably the friendliest if you’re a stranger, but it do be hard trying to build a friendship with any of them 😔 yao’s condescending to strangers and it takes some time to crack him if you don’t come off as quick-witted and smart on the first try, Roshan doesn’t really take people they just met super seriously unless they can impress/charm them, Aditya’s flashy but is kinda flaky and sometimes talks down to you and seems to always have something else to do besides hanging out one on one unless you win his respect. They’re good with each other though, occasional spats are mostly misunderstandings unless there’s Too Much miscommunication going on

— They’re all kinda legends for academic achievements. Roshan probably got a paper published in some vaunted journal about idk, changing methods of making pottery in ancient Iran or something; Yao has his stocks (and is also kinda rich in the first place so he’s “famous” before that) and Aditya probably got an internship or opportunity to do lab work for a cutting edge research thing

— they no-homo each other all the time it’s insane. It doesn’t help that they’re in close quarters (Yao and Aditya being roommates and Roshan right next door) so it’s like, accidentally wearing the other’s clothes, stealing snacks, so much touching and closeness lol classic pining material

— Yao jokes at least once a day that Roshan is just a parasite of his and Aditya’s dorm, with the amount of time they spend in there instead of in their own dorm, but they sniff haughtily and say that at least their dorm is much more organized than whatever indchu have going on (it’s true; Yao believes in organized chaos and pretends his organization system is having No Organization; Aditya just does whatever he wants and “anyways I’ll find it when I need it”, Roshan is the only sane one here)

— Roshan drinks tea religiously (all three of them do, but Yao chugs energy drinks sometimes, Aditya binges coffee when needed, whereas Roshan’s solution is tea)

— They’re kinda chaotic but it’s fine they’ll make it through uni :)

[waveypedia]

Key to a Memory

(warning for swearing)

~

{people need a melody to open their eyes

like a key to a memory frozen in time

holding on to everything, you’re stuck in the past

boy dontcha know that the world moves fast

it’s been a little while since we’ve been together

it’s been a long time since we were young and wild, remember

when we were friends, remember}

--

May 14, 2019 I 6:26 pm

UNKNOWN NUMBER: GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: HEY GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s me Della!! Your bud!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I’m back from space!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t believe you have the same number you nerd! lol I remember when Uncle Scrooge finally forced you to get a phone and you got a super cheap one and then upgraded it with your own tech

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t wait to see how much more upgraded and fancy your phone is now!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: sorry for not texting you sooner I got back a couple days ago but things have just been really hectic since then ya know??

UNKNOWN NUMBER: anyway I know you’re probably busy changing the world and inventing amazing things for Uncle Scrooge

UNKNOWN NUMBER: he told me you got an intern!! Congrats!! I can’t wait to meet them

UNKNOWN NUMBER: just call me when you get a chance ok? I’d really like to catch up

--

“GYRO!!” Della screamed, kicking open the door to the lab. Gyro scowled at his desk and scrawled a quick note to outfit the elevator with self-opening doors. The scientist sighed and stood up reluctantly, stepping around his desk to be in full view. “What is it now, Della?”

Della sprinted into the lab, her grin threatening to split her face in two. She exuberantly waved a bundle of papers in Gyro’s face. “Donnie and I got tickets to the new Galaxy Wars movie, and you’re coming!! Thursday at 6!! Be there or be square!!”

Gyro snorted and gently waved her off, pushing the tickets out of his face. “Dels, I’m busy here. Besides, any self-respecting scientist knows those movies are garbage.”

Della fake-pouted and slung her arm around Gyro’s shoulders, despite the height difference. She had to lean and go up on her tiptoes to manage, making Gyro burst out in a fit of laughter. She shrugged, tugging Gyro down to her height. “Whatever. The premiere was a couple weeks ago, so you probably won’t get into a fistfight with an overzealous fan this time-”

“-Their fault-” Gyro muttered under his breath as Della prattled on.

“-Aaaaaand Cousin Gladdy’ll be there! With his luck we probably won’t get kicked out by the ushers,” Della finished proudly.

Gyro rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Ugh, Gladstone? That man is too self-absorbed. Takes one to know one. And does that mean Fethry will be there as well?”

“Yep!” Della beamed. “He loves science, Gy, and he loves you! He’ll grow on you one day.”

“Highly unlikely.” Gyro shoved her arm off and stretched, standing up to his full height. “I grudgingly respect Fethry’s passion and his interest in scientific fields. He’s just so…” Gyro huffed. “Annoying.”

Della poked him in the beak. “Whatever. If you think Fethry’s annoying, my buddy Loopy from flight school will be there and she’ll blow your mind. But in a good way! Loopy’s amazing!”

Gyro groaned and slapped a hand on his face, slowly dragging it down. “Loopy and I are your only friends, aren’t we?”

Della puffed her chest out in mock effrontery. “I have lots of friends! I’m the best at making friends! They’re just all over the globe, you know, cause of all the amazing and daring adventuring I do!”

Gyro snorted and knocked his friend with his shoulder. “Whatever. When one of these international ‘friends’ comes around to Duckburg and hangs out with you beyond the adventure, let me know.”

Della smirked. “So you’ll be there?”

“Fine. I’ll be there.” Gyro affirmed, rolling his eyes.Della beamed mischievously. “Wonderful! See you there! Also it’s a sleepover and I’m adding you to a group chat specifically for this event now byeeeeee!!!”

“WHAT?!” Gyro squawked, racing after Della, but the elevator dinged and carried her far away. “Della! No! Come back! DELLA!!! I WILL NOT SUBJECT MYSELF TO THE TORTURES OF YOUR CHILDISH SLEEPOVER!!!” He chanced a look at his phone. It was already blowing up with texts from Della and Fethry.

Gyro groaned and slammed his head down on his desk, grateful for the solitude of his lab. He pulled up the calendar Scrooge filled with his deadlines from the board and added the movie night so he wouldn’t forget. A small, pleased smile played at his beak.

He picked up his phone, muted the group chat, and returned to his work.

 --

read 9:28 pm

--

May 15 I 4:03 pm

Della Duck: hey dumbass

Della Duck: they have read receipts now stupid

Della Duck: I know you saw my messages

Della Duck: whatever I know you’re hella busy just call me when you get the chance

Della Duck: hahah did you see that? hella! I used new slang!

Della Duck: Louie taught it to me :D

Della Duck: I can’t believe his name is Louie and not Rebel! I’m kinda mad at Donald but also it suits him more than Rebel

Della Duck: Dewey though… he’s DEFINITELY a Turbo

Della Duck: Huey could go either way but he’s okay with Huey so I guess I am too

Della Duck: It’s a lot to take in

Della Duck: although Webby would be overjoyed to be Jet or Rebel

Della Duck: I can’t believe I have an extra daughter!!! how cool is that?? four kids for the price of three!!

Della Duck: or maybe it’s more like six kids for the price of three since Webby had friends over today and they all seem close

Della Duck: Ooh you know who would be a good Rebel? Lena! apparently she just came back from the shadow realm??? I missed so much

Della Duck: i can’t believe you guys got to fight magica de spell without me AND she had a kid

Della Duck: she’s still kinda hot ngl

Della Duck: but louie showed me a picture of her after she lost her magic and ehhhh

Della Duck: but also there are lots of hot people around these days and I’m kinda freaked out

Della Duck: like I made a best friend of my roommate on the moon!! Her name’s Penumbra but I call her Penny and I’d let her stomp on me. Best part is she probably would

Della Duck: also Uncle Scrooge got a new pilot & driver and I hate him cause he’s sorta replacing me?? But also he’s hot in a himbo kinda way

Della Duck: I know you have insanely high standards but you gotta back me up here gyro Launchpad is kinda hot

Della Duck: damn i’ve missed our conversations about various hot people and our lack of love lives

Della Duck: I told you about Penny you gotta fill me in on the current hotties in the Duckburg science community

Della Duck: I also met your intern! He seems nice ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: i can hear your voice. “Della that is an excessive amount of emoticons”

Della Duck: well if you want me to stop you’ll just have to reply ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: at least you’re not telling me to use “emojis”Della Duck: apparently they all have hidden meanings and I don’t understand

Della Duck: Louie, Dewey, and Lena tried to teach Uncle Scrooge and I

Della Duck: I’m ashamed to say I think he fared better than I did

Della Duck: he’s old!! He’s supposed to be clueless!! I’m not old I was just on the moon for a decade!! That’s gotta count for something right?

4:46 pm

Della Duck: i see how it is

Della Duck: ignore me all you want but i’m right

--

The sun was nearly below the horizon, painting the evening sky and the waves below it in a plethora of muted colors, when Della broke the topic. “Yo. I think Magica de Spell is kinda hot.”

Gyro swerved to stare at her so fast he felt something in his neck crack. “Magica?! She’s ancient; are you crazy?!”

Della shrugged, kicking sand around absentmindedly with her bare toes. “Yeah, but she doesn’t look it. She’s hot in an unattainable kind of way.”

Gyro snorted, loud and sad. “I know how that feels.”

Della nudged him teasingly. “What’s going on in your love life? I shared, now you have to.”

Gyro rolled his eyes and nudged her back, harder. “You know nothing’s happening.” He shrugged carelessly. “It’s not like I have much time outside of work.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you refuse to take care of yourself and you act like you’ll die if you leave the lab,” Della said good-naturedly. “You should come on an adventure with us!”

Gyro sighed contentedly and waved her away. “I’ll stick to the lab, thanks. My inventions’ corrupted morality circuits provide me quite enough stress and adventure, thank you very much.”

(He couldn’t very well tell her that her dear ol’ uncle had entrusted him with the project of a lifetime, his chance to thank her for her gift of friendship, his chance to prove himself to Mr. McDuck for once and for all, his chance to redeem himself from the smoking failure that was 2BO. He didn’t have to run himself ragged working on the Spear of Selene day and night, but this was important, far more important than anything Gyro had worked on at McDuck Industries before. For his career, and for his friendship. And he wanted to do it right.)

(Shame he failed in the end anyway.)

Della sighed assent, smiling, and leaned back on her elbows, working her fingers into the sand. She had given up for now, but Gyro knew she would broach the subject again soon, from a new angle, with a new tactic. Della Duck never gave up.

“Maybe one day,” Gyro said, surprising himself. After this whole Spear debacle is said and done.

Della beamed and knocked her shoulder into his affectionately. “I’ll hold you to that!”

Gyro smiled wryly. “I know you will.”

--

Gyro pushed up his glasses and studied Della’s texts, willing his eyes not to unfocus and his brain not to zone out. He read them once, twice, three times. Four.

He began typing.

Gyro Gearloose: I remember-

Gyro Gearloose: My love life is as nonexistent as it was when you left-

Gyro Gearloose: emojis are zealous anyway-

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry-

He deleted his words, frustrated, nerves and old, painful memories rubbed raw, and never sent a reply.

--

June 11 I 2:09 pm

Della Duck: so Fenton and I went out for coffee today

Della Duck: not on a date, just as a chance to get to know each other platonically

Della Duck: he’s so much like you

Della Duck: not on the surface. In fact you guys are pretty much opposites

Della Duck: but you both care so much, even though you show it differently

Della Duck: i know you care your prickly demeanor can’t fool me

Della Duck: you’re both incredibly passionate about sciences

Della Duck: you’re both super awkward

Della Duck: he has high praise for you, and he really admires you, but it sounds like you’re not that close and I think you totally should be!

Della Duck: I know you’re probably annoyed that I’m meddling in your (love) life again, but get used to it!! I’m the best wingman and friend and I’m here to stay!!

Della Duck: even if you don’t text me back

Della Duck: (but seriously, please text me back. I miss you.)

Della Duck: he said you might need some space and I guess that makes sense but i just don’t understand why

Della Duck: that’s the only reason I haven’t stormed down to the lab by now

Della Duck: Did i do something before I took off for the moon?

Della Duck: or are you like Donnie and you’re mad?Della Duck: at least I think Donnie’s mad

Della Duck: or he will be

Della Duck: he’s on a cruise, Gyro! A fucking cruise!!!

Della Duck: he left the day I got back and now he’s gone for a fucking month

Della Duck: he thinks I’m dead

Della Duck: I miss him so much

Della Duck: the cruise doesn’t allow cell phones so I can’t even contact him and tell him I’m alive

Della Duck: But Huey and I sent postcards!! I don’t know if they’ll reach him but I really hope they do

Della Duck: Huey and Webby have been checking the mailbox meticulously to see if he sends one back

Della Duck: sorry for ranting

Della Duck: I just miss him

Della Duck: I miss you too you know? Yeah i’m being stupid sappy again but it’s dumb that you’re right here, across the city, and we haven’t talked

Della Duck: call me gyro you fucking coward

2:43 pm

Della Duck: also Fenton is totally Gizmoduck right

Della Duck: I met Gizmoduck once when he came to formally greet me

Della Duck: and i’ve seen him around the city lots

Della Duck: but they’re so similar. They have the same mannerisms

Della Duck: I guess that means you built his armor then right?

Della Duck: or you helped

Della Duck: it’s great Gyro

Della Duck: look at you! An invention that didn’t turn evil!!

Della Duck: I’m proud of you bud

--

“Have you ever thought about hiring someone to help in the lab?” Della asked one day, apropos of nothing.

She had dragged Gyro into a fancy coffee shop - one he’d probably be banned from had he attempted to patronize it on his own, and one he would be in the post-Spear of Selene era - and forced him to take a break from the top secret project he’d been devoting all his time to. They bought overpriced, bougie coffees on Mr. McDuck’s dime and traded jabs without any real bite to them, as was customary for them. Della mocked Gyro’s unique taste for black licorice, again. Same old, same old.

And then, this.

Gyro paused, his ceramic mug halfway to his face. “I’m fine on my own. Any help would only get in my way. They would stumble over their own feet and I would have to take precious time off of my own projects to tediously help them flail and fall.”

Della set down her coffee and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “You’re so cynical. Besides, you’re working yourself to death down there! It might help if you had someone else to lighten the load.”

Gyro paused. “I suppose I might be more productive if I didn’t have to do the menial tasks beneath me…”

“-And you could make a FRIEND!!!” Della cheered, standing up and leaning heavily on the table, her enthusiasm thundering in full-force. “Someone to chat with on late nights deep in projects, someone who understands your passion for science, someone you can count on when Donnie and I are off on an adventure!”

Gyro groaned, startled at first but then settling into resignation. “I should have known you had an ulterior motive.”

Della giggled, batting her eyelashes jokingly. “I only have your best interests at heart.”

Gyro shrugged and swirled his quickly-cooling coffee around in his mug. “Besides, Dels, you know there’s a reason you’re one of my only friends, right? You and Dickie and Daisy, you’re the people I’m closest with and that’s because you wouldn’t put up with my prickly, stay-alone-all-the-time bullshit. You guys drag me out of whatever place I’m holed up in kicking and screaming. Most people are not like that. I’m lucky to have three of you,” he admitted in the kind of moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability and clarity that only comes when you’re with someone you really trust.

Della snorted and reached across the table to shove Gyro gently. “Shut your self-depricating hole, Gyro Gearloose. Trust me, I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t want to.”

Gyro smirked, a small smile chasing away the dark storm clouds that covered his face. “I know, Dels.”

“Good.” Della replied self-assuredly. “I love Dickie and Daisy, and I love that they love you, but they’re not local. You need more friends, Gyro.”

“Maybe,” Gyro hummed softly, the closest he would ever come to admitting it. “But it’s even harder to get along with coworkers, and the chances of my subordinate being someone who actually wants to be friends with me is abysmal.”

Della shrugged. “Sometimes you learn to like each other. Like me ‘n Donnie! We drive each other crazy, but we have each other’s backs when it matters, and we’re always there for each other.”

Gyro snorted. “This hypothetical person and I will be coworkers, Dels, not siblings. That’s different. Besides, you and Donald love each other too much to be healthy.”

“Yeah, but Donnie and Uncle Scrooge and I are a little like coworkers, aren’t we? Adventuring is our job, and it’s very stressful at times,” Della said.

Gyro shook his head. “Dels, honestly, you have to get a job at some point. Mr. McDuck won’t let you leech off of him for much longer now, and you have no experience. It’s really not the same.”

Della shrugged. “At some point. I know Uncle Scrooge is biting at the bit, especially after Donnie joined the Navy, but I don’t want the responsibilities and schedules of work to tie me down and take me away from adventuring, you know? It’s the same reason I didn’t go off to college.”

“I still think you should have,” Gyro replied, smiling wryly. “You’re bright and you’d flourish being able to study what you choose.”

“I learn a lot adventuring,” Della replied smugly, stubborn as always. “I can speak seven languages fluently, you know!”

“Even if most of them are dead, or belong to otherworldly beings from alternate dimensions,” Gyro pointed out.

Della sighed contentedly and shook her head. “Whatever. What’s done is done, and I’ll get a job someday. But just think about it, Gyro, all right?” She locked gazes with Gyro pleadingly.

Gyro sighed in defeat. “Fine. I will give it some thought. But don’t get your hopes up, all right?”

Della smirked. “Whatever you say.”

Gyro put his head in his hands, roughly shoving aside his expensive coffee. (He was lucky it didn’t crash and burn, like most of his inventions.)

She’s not gonna win this one, Gyro aggressively promised himself. I can’t subject anyone else to my bullshit.

(The only reason he assented and allowed an intern on, in the future, was because Scrooge all but ordered it. He saw firsthand the way having positive people around improves lives and wanted that for Gyro too, especially with Della gone and Donald barely speaking to him. And if Mr. McDuck’s not-so-subtle hints and gentle persuasion-turned direct orders gave Gyro crystal-clear flashbacks to Della’s not-so-gentle prodding, and if he cried that night after his boss left, well, no one would be anyone the wiser.)

(He got quite lucky with Fenton and Manny, though. Some of that was the Board's thorough vetting process, but some of it was Scrooge himself intervening, because he wanted Gyro to make a friend as badly as Della had.)

--

August 15 I 7:26 pm

Della Duck: all right

Della Duck: I talked to Fenton again

Della Duck: i’m sorry for bothering you

Della Duck: it hurts to not talk to you but I’m gonna give you your space

Della Duck: I’m here whenever you’re ready

Della Duck: but please be ready soon Gyro i’m impatient

I know you are, Gyro nearly whispered as he read the texts. It felt like a finality, a surrender. But that couldn’t be right, because Della Duck never gave up.

How could he and his stupid, stupid inability to communicate his feelings and face his irrational fears be the one thing that forced Della Duck to admit defeat?

(read 7:58 pm)

--

The McDuck Annual Holiday Party was in full swing when Gyro arrived quietly. Launchpad had offered to drive him with Fenton, Manny, and Scrooge when they left a couple of hours ago, but Gyro had stayed to put the finishing touches on his current project, lest he lose his motivation.

That was the only reason. Not because Della would be there, and he might be forced to talk to her. No, sir.

Gyro clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white in the pockets of his vest. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t fooling himself, and he certainly wasn’t fooling his friends family coworkers. Every single one of them, even Mr. McDuck (now that was painful) had tossed him a look that ranged from disappointed to knowing to pitying as they left for the party. It made Gyro want to scream in rage and slam his fists against the wall until they were bruised and bloody. But even he knew that was unacceptable party behavior. (Mrs. Beakley had humiliatingly taken him aside for a quick rundown on which of his usual behaviors were not applicable at company parties.)

Steeling himself for a night of faux cheer and passive-aggressive conversations, Gyro quietly opened the door and slipped inside. Skirting on the outskirts of the party, he scanned the room desperately for allies to swarm to and enemies to avoid.

He spotted Fenton and Launchpad first, amicably chatting up the legendary Greek hero Storkules and his sister, the equally inexplicable and ethereal goddess Selene. (A mystery to unpack at a later date.) Beside them was the gruff Moonlander that Della seemed to love.

Gyro set his jaw. He could handle chatty immortals and aggressive aliens. At least they probably wouldn’t have a personal vendetta against him because of a malfunctioning invention or a poorly placed comment. He waded determinedly through the sluggish crowd, surprisingly stopped a couple times by friendly faces. (Boyd’s hug of greeting lasted almost three minutes, and that didn’t even account for the rest of the overzealously affectionate kids.)

Looking back, he’s lucky his the kids stalled him, because when he finally emerged from Webby’s hug, his eyes locked on his own personal horror story.

Della.

This was the first time Gyro had actually seen her since she’d come back from the moon. Her hair was longer, if only slightly, and her metal leg gleamed in the light from the chandeliers above. (His fingers itched to get his hands on it and upgrade it, toy with it, make it into a personal project, but he adamantly refused himself.)

Alongside the physical differences, Gyro noticed some changes to her demeanor as well. She seemed more… weathered, and tired, despite the ever-present spark of energy she seemed to radiate and her unwavering grin. It was cliché, and Dr. Gyro Gearloose hated clichés with a passion, but she had an almost haunted look in her eyes, contrasting her radiating cheery energy.

She was different, and he was different. So much time had passed. It seemed almost impossible that the duck in front of him was the same duck that Gyro had shared coffee and secrets with almost daily ten years ago.

And yet he yearned to return to their easy friendship. Not for the first time, Gyro wished desperately to go back in time a decade and stop the Spear of Selene from ever happening.

Della slipped between Penumbra and Selene, glowing in the way only an extrovert in social situations can. By way of greeting, she hugged everyone, even Fenton (!!!). She settled at last, hanging off Penumbra’s shoulder with Selene’s arm around her and Launchpad’s jacket around her shoulders (how she had acquired that, Gyro had no idea).

Unfortunately for Gyro, from her new position, she had a perfect view of him, stuck with only a single sparse group between them. Her eyes strayed to lock onto him and he froze, panic creeping in a mile a minute.For a moment neither moved, staring at each other.

She hadn’t texted him since August, true to her word, albeit how much it hurt for both of them. She had come to the lab a couple times, to pick up Fenton and/or Manny for coffee or to pick up or drop off Huey, Webby, or Boyd. But Gyro had always hid like the coward he was, terrified to face his best friend. The last time they’d talked was the day before Della took off in the Spear of Selene, ten years and eight months ago.

At last, after four months, and nine months of radio silence from his end, here she was, almost close enough to touch.

Then Gyro’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and he turned tail and ran, panic clouding his vision and his judgement. He shoved one of the Sabrewing husbands roughly aside (Scrooge would undoubtedly make him apologize for that later) in his frantic quest to escape all the raw emotions, of hurt and guilt and self-hatred, that sprung up all of a sudden.

His eyes locked on a door and he wrenched it open before slamming it shut. He leaned hard against the door, hands clenched around the handle, breathing hard.

Only once the panic began creeping away and his breathing slowed did Gyro finally process his surroundings. He was in a small broom closet, filled to the brim with glittery party supplies Mrs. Beakley had probably denied Webby. (She would probably find a way to sneak them into the party sometime later.)

And perched precariously on top of a box labeled “glitter fireworks” was a woman Gyro had met once, in the Old West, two hundred years ago.

Goldie O’Gilt sized him up, panicked and ruffled, and apparently decided he was no threat. She slid gracefully down from the boxes. “What brings you here, to the closet of forgotten and abandoned party supplies? Girl troubles?”

Gyro wanted to laugh, because technically, she was right. “I’m gay,” he replied, giving her his best deadpan stare. It was lacking.

She assessed him, trying hard not to smile, before bursting out laughing. Gyro barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “People problems, whatever. Please. You can’t fool me, hun.”

Gyro crossed his arms testily. “Why are you here? Away with you.”

Goldie grinned smugly, pretending to examine her nails. “Oh, nothing special. Just some extra fun for Scroogey later. May or may not involve glitter fireworks. You?”

Gyro snorted, without any real humor behind it, and rolled his eyes. “Great. Well, I have better things to do than watch you drive Mr. McDuck up the wall. See ya.”

“This is about Scroogey’s rediscovered niece, isn’t it?” Goldie called after him, as if as an afterthought.

Gyro froze, his fingers curled around the doorknob. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really,” Goldie hummed, faking disinterest. “But spare an old woman some juicy gossip, would ya? ‘Sides, I’m a professional conwoman. I see all the angles, and yours is in plain sight.”

Gyro scowled and shifted so he could see Goldie’s face again. She was smirking, small but triumphant, which did nothing to quell Gyro’s steadily growing mix between annoyance and panic. “And I suppose this has nothing to do with ‘Aunt Goldie,’ would it?”

Goldie shrugged nonchalantly, but the smile on her beak shifted into a small pout of annoyance. “I’ll do you a favor and be honest with you. Cherish this moment; it won’t happen again.”

She sighed and leaned more heavily against the precariously stacked boxes. “I may have missed Della and her adventurous, rambunctious spirit over the years,” she confessed, suddenly looking a good deal more like the age-old tired adventurer she was. “It hurts to see that spirit quenched, especially when I just got her back. She hasn’t even frustratingly tagged along to one of Scroogey and I’s not-so-solo adventures! And… I care about her. She’s almost my niece.”

Gyro frowned, stunned at Goldie’s clarity. “...Oh.”

Goldie straightened up and whipped out a shiny knife from the folds of her dress. “But tell anyone, especially Della or Scrooge, and they’ll never know what happened to ya,” she warned, wagging the knife in the direction of Gyro’s face.

He pressed himself against the door while maintaining his scowl, despite the fact that it was too far away to hurt him. He knew what she could do if she put her mind to it. “I won’t.”

Goldie slipped the knife back into the folds of her dress, where it seemed to magically disappear from her hand. “Good. Now go get my niece’s spirit back,” she instructed strictly, shoving Gyro not-so-subtly towards the door.

He wrenched it open and slipped surreptitiously outside, glancing around the party. The crowds seemed to have thinned a little.

Gyro spotted Della easily. She, Donald, and Mrs. Beakley were gently corralling the gaggle of children upstairs - it was quite late, after all. Gyro started to step towards her, then hesitated.

He chickened out and sprinted unsteadily outside instead, taking in big mouthfuls of the refreshingly cold December air.

The chill set in after a few moments and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, and despairingly started the long trek away from the mansion.

His phone was buzzing with worried texts from his friends (and Della, no doubt), but Gyro set his jaw and walked on, stubbornly ignoring their annoyingly righteous concern. No use telling everyone he lost his nerve again, just like every time Della texted.

Gyro gritted his teeth and pulled the collar of his jacket over the lower half of his face as protection against the biting winds. The physical pain lessened, but the icy feeling in his gut did not. He balled his hands into fists, as if to physically punch his overwhelming guilt and regret away.

I’m a bad friend.

--

Early April was always a little tough for Gyro, with the anniversary of the destruction he inadvertently sowed in Tokyolk. It got better with time, but the early years were always a little rough.

(And after that he always had another grief-filled and regretful anniversary to observe in April, anyway.)

He was pushing through it, though, by throwing himself into his work. This year was especially easy. The Spear of Selene was almost done, and would probably be finished just before the eggs’ hatching.

The last time he talked to Della was when he was taking a quick, rare break the day before what would be the second-worst day of Gyro’s life. (Tokyolk took first, if only narrowly.) He had gone off on a quest in search of coffee - he was at the launch lot, and he’d unfortunately been banned from the closest coffee shop. (It was their fault anyway - what kind of coffee shop didn’t want an automatic coffee bean stocker? Even if it tried to stock customers when there were no beans left? Really, they shouldn’t have run out of beans. And his price of free coffee for life was so reasonable and small, really, when he usually frequented the one closer to the lab. Their loss.)

“Gyro!” Della sprinted up to him, face flushed from running in the chilly winds and early spring air. She held out a coffee from the aforementioned shop to him with a grin, prompting his frustrated rant, but Della just let him prattle on with a goofy grin gracing her face.

“What’s going on?” Gyro finally demanded, after watching Della beam ardently at his violent threats and calls for justice and revenge towards the coffee shop. “Your smile is… sillier than usual. Which is saying something.”

Della waved him off, his insult breezing past her. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see!!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is it a good surprise?”

Della beamed triumphantly back at him. “Definitely.”

Gyro frowned dubiously, but he knew Della well. For all her recklessness, when she was this sure about something, her judgement was usually worth listening to.

(Later, he’d wish he hadn’t listened to her, and trusted his own gut, for once.)

He shrugged. “I highly doubt it’s as good as you think it is,” he replied haughtily, prompting carefree laughter from Della.

“It definitely is. Just you wait.” She reached out with her free hand and booped him on the beak, causing him to reel back, away from her. “I can make an educated guess that you’ll love it.”

Gyro rolled his eyes at her rudimentary science terminology, causing her to giggle. “If it’s another movie night with Fethry, I’ll pass.”

“Better than that,” Della promised, her smug grin turning downright devious. It didn’t faze Gyro in the slightest.

He shrugged carelessly. “With you, that could either mean better or worse. Otherwise known as pure, unadulterated torture for me.”

Della laughed, but her smile softened into something more vulnerable and emotional, no longer masked by a carefree and reckless demeanor. “I’m telling you, Gyro. You’ll love it. Come on, when have I ever been wrong?’’

Gyro barked a laugh. “Do you really want me to answer that? Because I have a full comprehensive list at the top of my head, and that only covers the basics.”

“Hating black licorice doesn’t count,” Della protested. “It tastes worse than every iteration of Hell, and I’ve been to every iteration of Hell!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Did you taste every iteration of Hell?”

Della rolled her eyes playfully. “Whatever. Just trust me on this one, will you?” she asked, hitting him with that almost vulnerable expression again.

Gyro huffed. “Fine.” He stuck a finger pompously in the air. “But I reserve the right to pass judgement when I see it.”

Della sighed without any real weight behind it. “Fine, whatever you want. But trust me, you’ll be blown away by the amazingness of this surprise!!!”

“We’ll see about that,” Gyro replied, smirking. “Now, away with you!! I have a highly important project to finish - which is unanimously more important than whatever surprise you have cooked up - and I simply cannot afford any distractions!!”

Della snorted knowingly. “Whatever. See you tomorrow at my amazing surprise! And you’re welcome for the coffee, Mr. Banned-From-Coffee-Shops!!”

Gyro shook his head fondly and made his way down the hill back to the lot. The Spear of Selene loomed in front of him, shining in the weak midday sun. It seemed frozen, waiting, on edge.

“Soon,” Gyro promised to no one in particular. He climbed inside to make some last-minute tweaks to the nuanced controls. “You’ll be in the air by May at the latest,” he promised, patting the cold metal of the rocketship. “Just let me make sure this is perfect. So nothing could ever go wrong.”

--

Jan 3, 2020 I 5:47 am

Donald Duck: hey asshole

Donald Duck: fyi Della’s really upset

Donald Duck: she really missed her friends ya know?

Donald Duck: Look, Gyro

Donald Duck: I know how this feels

Donald Duck: I know you’re scared

Donald Duck: but dude you face scarier stuff every day when your inventions go evil

Donald Duck: if you can face Lil’ Bulb turning evil not once but twice and still call him your son I think you can face your best friend

Donald Duck: and i know I said some shitty things to you the day we lost her and I’m sorry, that was uncalled for

Donald Duck: I was upset, as were you

Donald Duck: I forgive you if that’s not clear

Donald Duck: i forgave you a long time ago

Donald Duck: Della has too

Donald Duck: she never blamed you

Donald Duck: except maybe for the flavor of Oxy-Chew. But that saved her life, Gyro!

Donald Duck: I know I said your invention killed her, but your invention also saved her, and after she fixed it your invention brought her home

Donald Duck: now she’s back, but you’re losing her again

--

Gyro stumbling blearily awake, fumbling for his glasses, tired and disoriented, was nothing outside of the norm. He was a secluded, inane inventor with few friends, little social interaction, and no sleep schedule. Not to mention the plethora of projects piled on his desk vying for his attention, and the ever-present mug of coffee in his hand. (At the moment, there was a half-empty one on his desk, placed precariously on top of some blueprints.)

But his latest cup of coffee’s predicament was the least of Gyro’s worries at the moment. Because his phone, charging on his bedside, was blowing up. And that was decidedly not normal.

Gyro, at this point in time, didn’t have social media yet. (Fenton, Louie, and Dewey didn’t exist in his life yet, and so they had not had a chance to plot and execute an intervention.) Sometimes his phone blew up from the group chat with Daisy and Dickie, or the group chat with Della, Daisy, and Dickie, or just Della when she got excited. Or Fethry, once in a while, but Gyro was certain he’d blocked Fethry’s number this time.

Gyro clumsily put on his glasses and pulled himself up into a sitting position, still half-asleep. He scrolled through his notifications, frowning.

Mostly missed calls from Donald and Scrooge, a couple confused text notifications from Gladstone, two missed calls from the Board (that couldn’t be good), and one from Roxanne Featherly, a trainee journalist under Angus Fangus who had taken an unfortunate liking to calling him whenever one of his inventions went haywire.

Panic began to stir in Gyro’s gut.

The weirdest part, though, was that most of the notifications had not come from Della. She was by far his most ardent caller, and she had called, a couple times, but they were all over an hour ago. They were all buried by the rest of his missed calls.

Odd. Very odd.

Gyro tried calling Della first, to soften the blow of whatever was happening. Della wouldn’t sugarcoat the problem. She knew better. But there was something about her contagious enthusiasm and optimism, as well as her face-it-head-on attitude, that made whatever issue was at hand seem less daunting.

But his call went to voicemail.

Gyro shook his head, confused and more than a little scared at this point. Della almost never refused his calls, even if she was on an adventure (as long as she had cell service). It annoyed Donald to no avail, but Gyro was grateful for it - he didn’t reach out for social interaction with no reason.

But now? It only scared Gyro.

He frowned, contemplating, and called Donald next. Scrooge was more likely to call unprompted than Donald, and he didn’t want to deal with the Buzzards or Featherly yet, so Donald it was.

He picked up on the third ring.“Oh, so now he picks up!! When he can’t be of any help!! What’s the big idea, Doctor?!”

Gyro scowled, annoyance beginning to mix with the terror in his gut. “For your information, I just woke up. Now, what is going on?! Della won’t answer my calls and I have an ungodly amount of notifications at three AM. Seriously, people.”

“You want to know what is going on?!” Donald screamed, his voice and temper steadily rising. Gyro flinched at the volume, but kept the phone pressed close to his ear out of half morbid curiosity and half unwanted worry. “I’ll tell you what’s going on!!! Scrooge just killed Della!! And he used your stupid, untrustworthy invention to do it!!!”

Gyro nearly dropped the phone.“...Killed?” he nearly whispered. “How? The Spear of Selene isn’t ready yet and-”

“She took it!!” Donald screeched. “She took that good-for-nothing rocket and flew straight into a cosmic storm!”

“She wasn’t supposed to!” Gyro spluttered, numb. “She wasn’t even supposed to know about it yet!”

“Well, she did!” Donald spat darkly. “And now she’s gone. She left her boys orphaned. What were you thinking, making her that rocket?!”

“It was Mr. McDuck’s idea,” Gyro whispered numbly, automatically. “He- I- We never thought-”

“Scrooge,” Donald growled, and if Gyro knew him well enough he was dragging a frustrated hand down his face. “Of course. He’s too reckless and careless. He killed my sister.”

Gyro rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, unable to think of a coherent response. “I- I don’t think-”

“That’s right, you don’t think,” Donald snarled. “None of you do. And now my sister is dead, thanks to Scrooge. And you. Lose my number, Gyro. You won’t see me again.”

Click.

Gyro stared numbly at the floor, his phone still pressed against his ear, as the dial tone played. Finally, he slowly lowered it to his side and dropped it on the bed next to him before taking off his glasses and dropping his head into his hands.

Then, finally, he cried.

Della Duck. Dead. His best friend. Dead.

It was impossible, improbable. Della Duck was a famed adventurer barely two decades old. She breathed life. She had faced perils and terrors far worse than a cosmic storm, sustained injuries far worse, and bounced back.

Dead.

Because of Gyro’s invention. Maybe if he had worked a little harder, been a little more meticulous, he could have saved her.

He had failed again, gambled and lost with precious lives again, caused death and destruction again. It was Tokyolk all over again, and this time, the lost stakes were even more personal.

Gyro grabbed his phone suddenly, shakingly off the bed and pulled up Della’s contact. Her face beamed back at him, so full of life it seemed to burst from the tiny circle on his cracked phone screen.

He called her again, listening to it ring with baited breath even though he already knew the outcome.

“Hey, this is Della Duck, adventurer extraordinaire! I’m probably trekking through the Amazon or fighting a demon monarch in another dimension right now. Catch ya later!”

Gyro hung up before she could finish her last syllable and sobbed.

--

February 28 I 2:26 pm

Della Duck: fyi I’m picking Huey up today instead of Launchpad since he has a sleepover with his friend Jason today

Della Duck: you know

Della Duck: in case you wanna hide from me again

Della Duck: btw do you care if I snag that magnifying glass that shrinks people in like a month? We’re gonna go to Miniapolis soon

Della Duck: i mean i’m gonna take it anyway but figured you might want a heads up

March 14 I 5:18 pm

Gyro Gearloose: go ahead

Della Duck: GYRO!!!!

Della Duck: oh sorry

Della Duck: look I’m really excited but I also don’t wanna come on too strong

Gyro Gearloose: you’re fine

Della Duck: :D

Gyro Gearloose: it’s my fault I was being a coward

Gyro Gearloose: i couldn’t face my emotions and that was shitty of me

Della Duck: Gyro i took off in a rocket at midnight without telling anyone and left my kids without a mother for a decade

Della Duck: i win for stupid shitty actions here

Gyro Gearloose: it’s not a contest

Gyro Gearloose: we’re both shitty and stupid let’s leave it at that

Della Duck: yeah ur right

Gyro Gearloose: but dels

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry

Gyro Gearloose: it’s been almost a year and i fucking ignored you

Gyro Gearloose: i had the chance to get you back and i didn’t take it

Della Duck: hey

Della Duck: it’s okay

Della Duck: i know this is all a lot

Della Duck: i’m here now and that’s what matters

Gyro Gearloose: della i’m so glad

Della Duck: hey Huey is coming to the lab today

Della Duck: what if I come to pick him up and then you and I go out and catch up?

Della Duck: get expensive coffee on Uncle Scrooge’s dime just like old times?

Gyro Gearloose: fuck yeah

Gyro Gearloose: I’ve missed our expensive shitty coffee and gossip

Gyro Gearloose: I have SO much shit to talk about Dr. Akita

Gyro Gearloose: god

Gyro Gearloose: I hate him now

Della Duck: oh man

Della Duck: Huey told me a bit about Tokyolk but I want to hear all about it for you

Della Duck: and Boyd!!! Omg I can’t believe you’re a father

Della Duck: he’s so sweet

Gyro Gearloose: I don’t know if I’d call myself a father he has the Drakes

Della Duck: but you want to be don’t you?

Gyro Gearloose: ...yeah

Gyro Gearloose: but i’d be a shitty parent you know that

Della Duck: actually I don’t think so

Della Duck: i’m a shitty parent and I’m doing fine

Gyro Gearloose: what a surprise

Della Duck: wow thanks for the vote of confidence

Della Duck: but Beakley Donald and Scrooge are helping me

Della Duck: we’ll help you

Della Duck: join the shitty parents club!!

Gyro Gearloose: haha all right

Della Duck: also

Della Duck: i want to hear all about fenton

Gyro Gearloose: then I want to hear all about Penumbra

Gyro Gearloose: you’re not the only one who can play the love interest card

Della Duck: joke’s on you I WANT to talk about penny

Della Duck: anyway i’m leaving now

Della Duck: see you soon!!

Gyro Gearloose: i can’t wait to see you and your ugly 10-year-old clothes

Gyro Gearloose: seriously you’re wearing almost the exact same outfit

Della Duck:  uh HELLO you have no right to shit on the way I dress look at yourself

Della Duck: you dress like a very old gay man

Della Duck: i mean that vest?? really?

Gyro Gearloose: at least i’m not old

Della Duck: touché

Della Duck: LP is driving so i’m almost there see you in a sec

Della Duck: and i’ll probably grab that magnifying glass now

Gyro Gearloose: that’s fine

Gyro Gearloose: i missed you

Della Duck: aw you old sap

Della Duck: never thought i’d hear you say anything like that tbh you’ve gone soft

Gyro Gearloose: I realized recently that my greatest mistakes were not as black-and-white as they seemed

Gyro Gearloose: and if Boyd can forgive me for unknowingly letting Akita turn him into a weapon of mass destruction and for me ignoring him for years and belittling him throughout this trip

Gyro Gearloose: and if I can face both brainwashed 2BO and Akita and win with the “power of love” or whatever than maybe I can talk to you

Della Duck: damn

Della Duck: I have SO many questions about Tokyolk

Della Duck: but i can hold onto them for a minute

The lab doors dinged open, but Della was sprinting out of them before they were fully open. The rest of Team Science watched warily as Della rushed towards Gyro, beaming and laughing, joy seeming to spill out of her. They expected him to hide, or push her away. but to their happy surprise, Gyro met her halfway and wrapped her in a hug.

Or, Della nearly crashed into him and squeezed him so tight he couldn’t breathe, prompting some annoyance, but it was crushed under the sheer joy and emotions of seeing his estranged best friend after eleven years.

Gyro laughed shakily, holding back tears, until he realized Della was crying too. She got snot on his work shirt, but he didn’t care.

They held each other for quite a while, until Della finally pulled back, wiped her eyes, and socked Gyro in the shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me hanging like that again, you hear?! I will hunt you down! I’ll give you your space but I’ll hunt you down! I won’t let this happen again!”

Gyro smiled and wiped away his own tears. “Yes, ma’am. Now, coffee?”

Della beamed. “The expensive kind. You got it.”

“It’s about time,” Manny tapped grumpily in the background, with Huey, Fenton, and Lil’ Bulb adding their agreement, but Della and Gyro ignored them as they flounced out of the lab.They had eleven years of friendship and gossip to catch up on, after all.

{it’s not too late, it was

never too late}

~

woohoo this is a wild ride! i didn’t intend for it to be this long but it just got away from me. Della and Gyro having a friendship, especially before the spear of selene, is one of my favorite headcanons. I think Della would basically grab Gyro and force him to be friends with her and to hang out with her haha.

I have a hard time writing Gyro as mean as he is in canon because I’m a sensitive sweet bean who isn’t creative or socially adept enough to come up with good insults (yet, hopefully). but i’m getting better! i hope this read as somewhat in character. same with Goldie, i’ve been trying to figure out how to write her for two years now sdfghgfds. I think I got Della’s character somewhat down though!

soft Gyro is more of an interpretation (albeit supported by canon) than canon fact but I LOVE it and i’m writing four (counting this) fics based off of it so get ready for that

the title and song lyrics are from People Need a Melody by The Head and the Heart. That song is really special to me because it was my closing song for camp last year (we would sing a song special for each unit each night before bed). I didn’t plan to use this song from the start (the working title was “DR. GYRO GEARLOOSE GET OFF UR ASS AND ANSWER UR PHONE -Della”) - I was listening to it one night, nostalgic for camp, while writing this fic and I realized the lyrics fit!

(also I was on a call for colorguard while I was writing this author’s note and my instructor said “I hear a lot of typing” lol)

[thecorpulentbeagle]

Okujima Week 2020: Pre/Post Game

Road trip! Today’s prompt is Pre/Post Game, and I decided to take Post, just because I think it’s a little bit easier to write a story after the characters already know each other pretty well. Although, I am curious to see people write/draw creations before the game starts!

As I warned in the beginning of this challenge, this will contain spoilers for the end of Persona 5, and this chapter is the main reason. If you have beaten the game, you could probably decipher what this will be about from the first thing I said, though!

Please enjoy this third part of the Okujima Week 2020 Challenge!

Here is the fanfiction.net link.

As always: THIS STORY WILL NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5 ROYAL, BUT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5.

Okujima Week 2020 Challenge:

Reminiscing:

Pre/Post Game

-Makoto-

This had been a crazy year, to say the least.

Makoto gave a quick turn of her head to look over her shoulder at the group of rowdy teenagers behind her. The bus that she was currently driving had three rows of seats, and each row was packed.

Ryuji was currently bickering with Ann about something or another, with an awkward-looking Akira sandwiched between them. Based on what Makoto had heard earlier, the two blondes had been fighting over whether meats or sweets would be the better option to, as they had phrased, “stuff their face with.” Akira had tried to mediate the two, but had given up after a few fruitless attempts and was now sitting there, waiting for them to eventually come to an understanding.

Akira noticed her looking back at him, giving her a defeated look with a shrug of his shoulders. Makoto gave him a jokingly-pitiful smile, which caused him to chuckle slightly.

Behind them sat Futaba and Yusuke, who were, surprisingly, not screaming at each other. This was probably because the two were engaged in two different activities. The artist was looking out the window at the scenery, using his fingers to frame different aspects, while the hacker was absorbed in her phone, no doubt playing a game of some sort.

That was all Makoto could observe before turning back to face the highway, as the last thing that she wanted was to go careening off the road. That would not be appropriate behavior coming from the group’s senpai.

Though in reality, none of them really gave a moment’s notice to titles, rankings, or things like that. Even though there were a mix of different school levels in the vehicle, as well people from different social standings or ‘cliques’, they all got along. It warmed Makoto’s heart to know that everyone in this bus cared for one another, as the girl had always struggled to make friends growing up.

However, if Makoto were honest, there was one person who shared an even deeper connection with her.

Makoto turned to look at the last occupant. Sitting next to her with a smile on her face was Haru, a person she had come to trust fully in the past few months. Even though the girl had joined the Phantom Thieves towards the end of their campaign, she was still able to endear herself to the entire group almost immediately.

The two were of the same year, but they had never really interacted in school before the Phantom Thieves. This wasn’t strange, though, as Makoto had no interest in forming relationships with others due to her rigorous schedule of studying and maintaining the student council. As she got to know Haru, however, she realized it wasn’t unusual on her end either. Haru would purposefully prevent herself from forming relationships, given that those who grew close to her would only ever use the girl for political reasons.

But these rules seemed to go out the window when it came to the two of them. Makoto’s defenses seemingly melted whenever she would interact with Haru. She would catch her off-guard in the most unusual of ways. Upon their first real-world interaction, Haru complimented Makoto on her Metaverse outfit, which, even now, made her heart beat a little bit faster in her chest. Her earnest compliment was stated so abruptly that it seemed like a statement that was just an apparent fact, rather than something to be used to flatter someone.

As their adventure progressed, so too did Haru’s advances. Makoto had let everyone know that she had no need for honorifics, and she assumed that Haru would abide by that casualness even more, given that they were both third years at the time.

What she hadn’t expected was for Haru to instead add an honorific that was infinitely more impactful. Makoto could never remember anyone calling her Mako-chan, and it had stunned her so much that she had been unable to reply via text for a few moments.

Again, Haru had almost effortlessly found a way to worm her way into Makoto’s heart. Truthfully, it sometimes made Makoto jealous that the other girl was able to navigate social situations such as these so easily. Makoto always struggled, and most of what she expressed was carefully crafted after painstakingly thinking everything through. Half the time, whatever she said wasn’t what she intended in the first place, and was slightly (or highly) awkward.

Haru, however, was not only adept at instigating social cues – she was also skilled at reading them. This was one of the reasons why Makoto liked her so much. Makoto knew that whatever she said, Haru would be able to interpret and respond accordingly.

Makoto had read about topics such as these, given that this was something she had struggled with her entire life. There were all different kinds of intelligence, and Makoto, however pridefully, knew that she excelled in the conventional form of intelligence.

However, when it came to emotional intelligence, she was sorely lacking. Sometimes, she knew someone would be upset, but wouldn’t quite know how to react. Other times, she would be unaware of someone else’s feelings entirely. It was frustrating to learn, but also helpful. It meant that she could take that into consideration when trying to determine the best course of action in a social situation.

When considering these things, Makoto realized that Haru had emotional intelligence in spades. She always seemed to know how others were thinking, how they were truly feeling. When Morgana had struggled to admit his feelings to the Phantom Thieves about the true reason for his departure, Haru had been able to coax it out of him, even though she barely knew the group or understood its dynamics at all.

Speaking of which, Makoto brought her focus back to the present Haru and saw that the reason for her smile was because the cat was in her lap, tilting his head this way and that as she scratched under his chin and behind his ears. The girl giggled slightly as Morgana began to purr. Makoto quickly looked back out at the road, not wanting Haru to catch her staring.

The trip was going to be another few hours, but she didn’t want to change this current set up. Originally, Ann had been sitting next to Makoto, and the two had talked about random things, one of which being that the younger girl would totally be bringing her senpai to one of her favorite sweets stands, since they had released a new flavor of crepe. Ann refused to let her know what the flavor was, but she insisted that Makoto would love it.

That was when Ryuji had overheard their conversation, which had started the current argument. Makoto could only stand to listen for so long before pulling the bus over to a gas station for a quick break to hopefully cool their heads. While that didn’t work, Makoto noticed with a smile that when everyone filed back into the bus, Haru had jumped up to the front with Morgana in her arms, stating that she wanted to move up from the back to be able to sit next to her.

Makoto continued to drive, attempting to tune out the two blondes, who had devolved into merely screeching at each other incoherently.

“Hey…”

Makoto jumped slightly at the quiet voice next to her, startled after hearing nothing but yelling for the past few hours.

She glanced at her side and saw Haru looking over at her with a calm smile. “How are you holding up, Mako-chan?” Her voice was soothing, and almost impossible to hear over the current noise.

Makoto smiled warmly. “I’m alright,” she answered honestly. She knew that Haru would be able to distinguish her current mood regardless. The question itself was a pleasantry more than anything.

Haru nodded. “I’m sorry that none of us know how to drive, let alone have a license.”

“Don’t worry about it, Haru.” Makoto glanced back at road before looking back at Haru. She noticed that her hands had stilled on Morgana, and decided to act.

Makoto reached out a hand and laid it over top of Haru’s own, gently peeling it away from Morgana’s torso. “It’s only a few more hours, after all.” She moved their hands to the middle of the bench, slowly stroking Haru’s with her thumb.

Makoto’s stomach fluttered at Haru’s giggle. “I suppose that’s true.” The girl turned her hand so that she could interlace their fingers. “I’m glad I can at least comfort you a little bit.” She squeezed her hand gently.

Makoto flushed and said nothing, merely turning back to face the road.

It felt nice to be able to hold hands with Haru like this, even while driving. Perhaps the next few hours wouldn’t be so bad.

Except.

“Oi, look at the two lovebirds up front!”

For that.

Makoto looked back to see that Ann and Ryuji had finally stopped arguing, but that they now had a new focus. Ryuji was currently grinning madly at the two senpai, and Ann was following suit. Akira looked relieved, but then soon looked at what was being discussed, and quickly grinned deviously.

“What are you talking about Ryuji? Oh? Oooooh,” Futaba had looked up from her phone to admonish the boy, only to look up front and see what was happening. She chuckled.

“Indeed. I had been observing for quite some time, wondering what to call a work of art based on this scene,” Yusuke mused, framing them with his fingers.

“G-guys!” Makoto choked. She looked back out front. “I-I have to look at the road. Stop distracting me!”

The rest of the group continued to tease the driver, making her face redden after every comment. She was torn between berating them and potentially crashing the vehicle, and focusing on the road but having to be the target of their attacks for the next few hours. Clearly, everyone was bored, and this situation was too good to pass up.

After a few more minutes, Makoto was seriously considering careening off the road, just to have them stop for one moment.

Instead, she decided to chance a glance at Haru, who had been surprisingly quiet this whole time. She saw that the other girl was in fact looking back at her, and her eyes sparkled when Makoto met them with her own.

Makoto wasn’t quite sure what to make of this quiet affection, so she merely smiled back before looking back out at the road.

“Pfft. This is boring! Neither of them are saying anything!” Futaba whined. Makoto glanced back to see that she was slouched in her seat with her arms crossed.

“I think we probably broke Makoto, and Haru doesn’t even mind it!” Makoto heard Ann reply.

“Eh, we’ve probably teased ‘em enough anyway,” Ryuji added.

After a few more exchanges, the topic of conversation drifted to something else entirely. Makoto was thankful for that.

“Well now, that didn’t take too long, did it?” Makoto inclined her head towards Haru, indicating that she was listening without taking her eyes off the road.

“What do you mean?”

“I knew that everyone would become bored eventually, but even I have to admit that was rather fast.” Haru giggled.

Makoto realized that Haru had read the situation again. Rather than react to the situation, she had pleasantly ignored it, knowing that with no reaction, the teasing friends would eventually switch their attention to something else.

It seemed so unfair. Makoto had barely been able to conceal her embarrassment, but Haru had been able to do that, as well as read the situation to figure out a solution.

“Well… thank you for that,” Makoto replied. She squeezed her hand, which (she realized with a start) she hadn’t let go of the entire time.

“Of course. Like I said before, I’m glad to be able to give you any sort of comfort.” Haru squeezed her hand back.

Makoto nodded.

Haru truly was a good friend.

And based on her friends teasing, maybe even something more.

--

Done! Hopefully you enjoyed. I’ve always been interested in characters who show great amounts of emotional intelligence, because it’s hard to put into writing. It can be so easy to write a character as… sort of bland.

For example, someone might not react in a strong way, but that’s because the person is restraining their emotions, knowing that freaking out won’t help the situation. But sometimes, that can come off as the character not having emotion/not being developed properly. It’s an intricate sort of balancing act, and when it’s done well, I really like it. That’s one reason that I appreciate Haru’s character so much.

I also think this is why I ship these two together. Makoto is a little socially awkward, but Haru helps her with that. Whereas Haru struggles to trust people, but Makoto is so earnest, that she helps show Haru that it’s okay to share her feelings with others. Since this was from Makoto’s POV, I didn’t talk about Makoto’s strengths as much, so I just wanted to mention it here. See you tomorrow!

[louu-7]

everything i don’t know

on wattpad

CHAPTER 1:

"No, we already talked about it young girl, and it’s clearly out of the question. We’re not paying all this watchmen for nothing, and your mother and I are doing our best to keep you away from these troublemakers”

“Dad, come on, I’m not gonna stay all along the summer indoors while you’re all gonna leave and do your things outside.”

“The garden is wide enough to let you get some fresh air.”

"Am I supposed to thank you to let me get out in the garden? Dad, the garden, really…” I say with a little voice.

"If you’re not OK with the decisions that we are making for your safety go to your room and think about it. It’s for you” my mom come into the kitchen while I’m toasting some bread before putting avocado on it.

"Great…” I sigh and finish cooking my breakfast before going upstairs, where my insipid room wait for me to come back. I’m tired of all this, it’s always the same thing. We talk, I’m not OK and they just send me to my room so we don’t argue about anything. When it’s either Alyssa or Isaac, everything’s good, even when they’re not in agreement with each other.

And I’m stuck here until the end of summer, in other words, for almost three months of boredom… why am I in such a formal family, they never let me do anything here, and the worst is when I start talking about the pogues… they hate them and they called us troublemakers, or even scapegrace, the thing is, I don’t even know why because they absolutely don’t let me get out of this house. They’re rich as fuck and they no longer know what to do with their hundreds of thousands bucks.

I sit just under my big window, in front of the beach, on my comfy seat. All this island is crazy, the landscapes are amazing and I’m in love with sunrises and sunsets, I can’t prevent myself to do it everyday, every mornings, every evenings. It’s kind of the only thing that I can enjoy from my too white room so I’m not gonna miss it.

It’s actually 7:30am and the sun’s rises. The sky takes an orangy pinky shade, and the blue eventually steal the limelight from the warmth of the old shades as we go along. I love that atmosphere, it absorbs me to another place, where I can live freely and not worrying about my parents remarks… but it’s only in my head, and I love them anyway. Even if they’re all gonna leave the house to occupy themselves, and I’ll stay there, like the previous two weeks that I spent here, alone and bored.

"Thara”, my mom knock at my door and open it before I respond.

I don’t event look at her and let my regard sweep the horizon. She stays at my door for some minutes, and I can’t continue to do like she’s not here, so I leave my thinking and give her a faint smile when I catch her eyes.

"Do you need something?”

"I just wanted to get everything clear about the decision that we took with your father.”

"Mom, that’s OK, I understand and, dad’s right, the garden is great, I guess…”

"I see that you’re not enjoying this choice, and I’m aware that you may feel abandoned but, it’s for your own good. We wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t impor-”

"It’s OK, I promise. It’s just that I’m starting to get bored… I have nobody to talk with me, and nothing to do, even in the garden.”

"Look, if you want we can go shopping tomorrow”, she proposes while a smile’s drawing out on my face.

"Hum, yeah, sure. Isn’t it gonna change your whole organization? It’s OK if-”

"Thara, darling, don’t worry, I can managed to take a day off. For now I need to go, but we talk about it during diner. You should have a walk on the beach and enjoy the sun, today’s weather is really appreciable. Have a drink if you want while studying or reading a book, on the afternoon. The champagne is in the fridge, the library remain open. Have a good day sweetheart.”

"Thanks mommy, have a good day too. And thank you, for tomorrow”, I keep smiling and she waves to me.

She leaves and I’m already imagining tomorrow’s day. Mom rarely suggest to have a trip together or just be both of us for a day, and every time she’s doing it, that’s warms my little heart. We’ve never been that close, because my sister is all she wanted to have. I guess she wanted me to be the exact same as her, unfortunately I’m not. I’m asking questions, I’m talking loudly and I love simple things.

Alyssa likes chic evening with important people, business meetings and hates wasting her time. In other words, sunsets and sunrises are not her things, and, moreover, we’re completely different.

Anyway, I’m taking a quick shower before putting on a basic outfit. My dad hates when I’m wearing these moms jeans and these tank tops, but I love it, I feel good and it’s reflecting my personality. Also, he hates even more my white (not so white) converse, he always says that the way I dress is irrelevant to the place that I hold. To be honest, even if I always respect his opinion, I kind of don’t give a damn about it, it’s my only way to show that I’m not really like all of these kooks… even if I always will.

"Thara, did you take my white shirt?” Alyssa almost plead for it from her room as her voice cracks a little.

"Gonna look in my closet and tell you then, but I don’t think. Why can’t you wear another one, it’s only a shirt.”

"Thara just search please, you can’t understand.”

I heave a sigh before walking into my wardrobe and go through it for a pretty long time before giving up. It’s not here obviously, and it’s not by looking for it during hours that can make it appears…

"Don’t have it, did you look into mom’s closet, maybe she’s got one that you can wear.”

"No, mom will kill me if I borrow something from her.”

"Are you kidding? No way, if I go through her closet she’ll kill me, not you. Both of you’re the same, it’s OK and, if she says something, I will say that it was my idea. Now go take a shirt, come on.”

"Sure?”

"Yes, come on, you’re gonna be late girl!” I let out a soft giggle and she runs in the stairs to join the second floor.

She seems… happier than usual. Yesterday she was almost yelling at me only because I didn’t give her back one of her basic eyeshadow palette, and now she seems excited. I don’t know what’s behind this get-up, but it might be a boy.

She never talk about boys with anyone, but she did once with me. We were having a random conversation, and her phone kept on rigging, and every time she had to respond she was smiling and her cheekbones were becoming pink, so I decided to ask. I have no name of this unknown guy, but from what I hear, he’s a good person, he’s been graduated same year as her and he now works for the family business.

"How do I look?”

I turn towards her and smile when I see her, perfect, as always. Her white shirt is buttoned up from top to bottom, and her raspberry-colored pant suit fits amazing on her.

"You look awesome, no joke. But...” I slightly wince as I walk headed for her. “Can I?”

"Hum, I’m not sure but, go ahead, I’m late.”

"OK” I whispered, focusing on my task. I unbutton the first buttons of the clean white shirt so her outfit can become less formal, just a little more casual. “Great, and, I think you can also roll up your sleeves to seem a little more comfy, if you want" I suggest while she wince at her turn. “Do it only if you want, and if you don’t go now, it’s almost 9am so run.”

"Yeah, I should go, how do we do to talk to a boy?”

"What, you,” I raise my eyebrows. “You don’t know how to flirt? Aly, it’s so easy, just talk to him, on topic that both of you like. Maybe talk about his family, what does he wanted to do later, and where does he wanted to travel. Just talk, and everything’s will be good, I swear.”

"OK, hum, wish me luck.”

"You go girl, and I swear I’m stannin’ you, you look awesome!”

She laughs before opening the door to rejoin the car and leave the house. My dad’s certainly gone, with my dear brother, who, I do think, hates me. I don’t know why, but the relation between him and I has always been difficult. When I was around seven, or maybe ten, we were kind of close, but when the parents started to point everything out to me, he left me alone. Since, he’s always picking on me for nothing, every day, and every time I’m not doing something right.

"Here I am, alone and bored, in a fucking big house which isn’t even useful, because there’s just me…” I whispered, almost sick of it.

"Did you ask for something, miss?” Lucy startles me while I’m turning towards her, a hand on my heart. I give her a faint smile and sigh. She scared the crap out of me…

"I didn’t want to scare you, I’m sorry mi-”

"You can call my Thara Lucy, you should know about it by now.”

"But it’s the order from your father, and you know him better than me.”

"Yeah, but he’s not here now, take it easy, enjoy and don’t be shy to relax, there’s no problem. I’m in my room if you need something.”

"But Thara, it’s to me to say that to you, don’t worry, I have a lot to do.” She smile and I do the same before joining my room to sit in front of my desk and inspire. To work is almost my only thing to do, so let’s study, during summer holidays… I open my book and start to focus on my lesson.

After ten minutes trying to focus on this philosophical text from Ralph Waldo Emerson, I’m out of it, my brain is already full of information, and read it again and again won’t help me to get into it. I stand up, kinda fed up, and leave my room to rejoin the garden by passing by the big patio doors.

This house is huge, and incredible, and really beautiful, but we don’t need this. I mean, I don’t need this. My parents do, because “they have a place to hold” and that “they need to show their power”. Their power, ridiculous, isn’t it…

I arrive in front of the pool. Another example, we have a pool, and who’s using it? Almost nobody. I love to go in it, but alone it becomes deadly boring quickly. I let out a deep sigh while looking at the beach that we can see from the pool through all the trees and branches.

It’s a good place to live, and not only Figure Eight. I’m even sure that the cut is better than here, chiller and with cooler person. Everyone here is kind of uptight, they only talk about who’s making more money and which one of all them is the more absurd. They’re hypocrites, and are faking their happiness, because I can swear, no single one of them is truly happy, I mean, I have the time to observe around me so…

"Are you OK, miss?” Lucy comes by my side and put her hand on my shoulder to check if I’m alright. It’s her job.

"Yes, of course, I’m good.”

"Good, because it’s almost been twenty that you’re standing here.”

Oh shit. Twenty minutes, she certainly thinks I’m crazy. But she knows how I am after all, dreamy and myself.

"It’s OK, do you need help, to do something?”

"No, I can’t let you help me, this is not to you to clean the house. Enjoy the sun, you might go to the beach, it’s really good today.” I nod while smiling politely, and come back indoors to get to my room and prepare.

Beach is the only place where I could spend hours without even notice. I put on a bikini top and some shorts before getting a towel in the bathroom.

I stuff everything in my backpack, put my hair in a bun and just leave the house, my headphones driven in my ears. The music is so loud that I’m impossible to hear anything around me.

My father could have a heart-attack just he knows that I was adopting this “careless behavior”. For him, I should be wearing a dress just to go to the beach, without my headphones, with a purse, makeup on and a perfect hairstyle. But anyway, he’s not here.

Even if he isn’t here, I’m listening to his orders… I have the ban to go anywhere else but at an exact part of the beach, without anyone but kooks who aren’t hanging out with the pogues. I also can go in front of the house, on the part of the beach that we can see from the pool. That’s it. I’m just stuck in my own house, it sucks.

It really sucks, but I can more or less understand their decision. When I say that they can see the pogues, I mean that they almost can’t stand them at all, even if they do with it when they have to.

They never told me what happened, and the question is real like, how someone can hate on someone else this way? That’s not human.

I finally arrive to the beach, blow all this thoughts away and just enjoy the warm of the sun, the sound of the waves and the feeling of the sand on my feet when I take off my shoes. These three things are the best things in this world. And I can add to this non-exhaustive list the sensation that you can feel when you dive in the lukewarm water of the sea, and then you come back and lay on your towel to dry, and you can feel the sun burning your skin and it feels so damn great.

Beach is paradise on Earth. Like Outer Banks I guess… even if it would be better to stop this kind of ridiculous war between pogues and kooks. I decide to go through the water and just enjoy everything around me before my dad calls me to make sure I’m not breaking his rules…

~

I was about to come home, but I heard some sounds which looked like someone was beating someone else, so I’m just walking towards these noises. I hope it’s just some dumb kooks who are fighting for nothing, because I don’t really want to find myself face to face with two muscly boys who are fighting, or something.

The sound of someone who’s toppling over pretty loudly resonate, so I accelerate while putting my phone into my bag with my headphones. What is happening out there… I eventually arrive and, surprise, I find myself face to face with some kooks, and… a pogue? What is he doing here, he certainly is aware that it’s kook’s space…

I quickly drop my bag before starting to run toward the two kooks and the pogue who’s on the floor, alone and taking a beating.

"Eh! What the hell are you doing, let him go! Get out of here!” I arrive in front of them and don’t hesitate to put a stop to this ridiculous fight.

They are beating someone for no reason, what the hell is this island!

"Thara Abrams, how you doing? I see that you’re not against the pogues anymore, yelled Nate at me while dashing off with her little brother and a friend.

"What, shut up, just get out…” I don’t like him. I never did, and I never will. He’s just like all this kooks. Even more than that, he’s the perfect cliché of a good kook. I mean, if a good kook does exist.

I offer a helping hand to the black-skin boy but he eyes me up before getting up on his legs by himself. What the…

"Are you OK, I’m sorry for them, they shouldn’t do this, they’re just… kooks.”

“So you are” he responds roughly as I frown.

"Yeah, but, I’m not like them, I never would do this kind of-” I’m interrupted by the steps of someone coming by us. He’s blond, pretty tall and muscly. He’s looking at me like I was a monster and gets back the bag of his friend.

"Dude why the hell are you talkin’ to her, c’mon.” He wraps his arm around his shoulder and they start to leave without saying a word.

“What, you’re leaving like that, what’s the matter?”

"Just go back to you’re excited kook’s life” the blond lets a word and I shrug.

"Oh, you’re welcome for trying to prevent you from taking a beating” I say, annoyed. "Can you mind your own damn business” he turns toward me a second and looks dagger at me.

[1dfangirls35]

Voir Dire (N.H.): A fake dating OU about contracts, soulmates, and risking it all for love

eight

"There you are!" Mike, Niall's agent huffed as Niall stepped out of his black Range Rover and onto the set. Mike's face showed a hint of irritation, his dark brows furrowed making wrinkles across his middle-aged forehead. 

"Sorry, totally slipped my mind," Niall apologized heavily, following Mike towards the large warehouse that would be the set for his latest music video. It wasn't like Niall to forget things like this, especially things that dealt with his music. Part of that, however, was likely because this wasn't HIS music. He'd penned the lyrics, he'd lived the story, but the creative process behind the music video, the story this shoot would tell- well that was all up to his label. He supposed his lack of remorse for arriving late also had something to do with the fact that he had to leave a beautiful girl in his bed this morning, right when he was on the cusp of coming clean on this whole situation. 

Niall tried to tell himself that Kelsey would likely take the whole situation well, because there was plenty of evidence that proved that his relationship with Krystal was nothing more than one in front of the cameras. But if Niall wasn't concerned about how Kelsey would react, why had he been holding onto the secret for so long?

"Good morning," Krystal said cheerfully as Niall rounded the corner, interrupting his internal monologue. She was seated in a black fabric director chair with her hair freshly curled and a makeup artist quickly dabbling to apply a thin coat of lipstick.

"Mornin'" Niall responded politely, before sliding into his seat next to her for his hair dresser to begin doing her magic.

"Rough start to the morning?" Krystal smiled. Niall wonders just how late he was to this shoot.

"Just slipped my mind if I'm being honest, sorry to keep ya waiting."

"The star can never be late to their own shoot can they?" Krystal laughed.

"Right," Niall nodded, before grabbing his cellphone and snapping a quick snapchat to send to Kelsey. He hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him for rushing out this morning.

When Niall's hair is properly styled and his first outfit for the music video is put together, Krystal and him begin shooting. The day was long and tedious, and Niall couldn't help but feel a little disconnected from the creative process as a whole. He had never been one to showcase a leading lady in his videos, and here he was, shooting one with Krystal. He found the whole thing to be slightly uncomfortable, especially considering he was starting to develop feelings for another woman. 

Krystal, however, seemed totally in her element. Any signs of insecurity that may have been present during their first dinner date seemed to have vanished into thin air. Krystal wasn't afraid to stare Niall down like he was the only one in the room, and with every touch the two shared Krystal seemed to be exude affection. Niall began to grow tired of the number of times the director would shout "Excellent job Krystal, Niall show me how much you are attracted to this girl, I know you are." On the breaks in between shots, Niall snapped a few pictures of the set to Kelsey, making sure, however, to exclude any photos of Krystal in the background. 

"I love the song, by the way," Krystal said on one of the breaks, taking a seat beside Niall and taking a long exaggerated sip out of a can of La Croix water. 

"Thank you," Niall responded.

"What inspired it?" She continued, looking Niall straight in the eyes. 

"It's kind of just about that moment that you first meet someone," Niall began, his mind traveling back to the place where he first penned down the beginnings of the lyrics. "You know when you just meet someone and you know. You know that this is someone that you want to know better. You know that this person has the potential to be someone in your life."

His mind flashes back to the night in the Manhattan weeks ago, when he'd bumped into Kelsey with his beer. Her brown hair tied back, with pieces coming loose on the edges, her face flustered and hurried, but her eyes familiar, as if Niall had stared into them many times before. He hadn't known Kelsey when he'd written the song. In fact the song had been written more about the idea of that moment than an actual person, but somehow his recent experience matched it perfectly.

"I like that," Krystal replied, her eyes lingering a little too long on Niall's face. Niall moved his gaze quickly. 

*******

On day three of the shoot, Niall felt exhausted. He'd barely had a moment to himself over the past seventy-two hours, and though he knew that it was just a part of the job, he couldn't wait for it to all be over. When the director calls, "That's a wrap!", Niall assumed he was done for the day. He took a seat and grabbed his phone finding a sweet message from Kelsey asking how the final day of shooting had went. 

"Who has got you so smitten?"

"What?" Niall brings his head up sharply, looking at Krystal who has a smirk across her lips.

"Your phone. You're smiling at your phone." Krystal gestured. 

"Oh, just reading a text message."

"What's her name?" Krystal inquired. 

Niall glanced in the area around them, careful to be sure no members of management were within earshot. "Kelsey."

"Well, tell Kelsey your girlfriend says hello," Krystal laughed, her tone a mix of joking and seriousness.

Before Niall has the chance to come up with a witty reply, his agent rushed over, the look on his face suggesting that Niall's acting for the day was not yet over.

"Niall, Krystal," Mike looked from Niall to his co-star sitting just a few feet away. "It appears we have a few extra visitors on the grounds today."

Niall felt a strong urge to let out a dramatic groan. He knew what kind of 'visitors' waited outside the warehouse doors, and they weren't welcomed ones.

"Photographers?" Krystal asked, trying to catch on to what Mike was letting on. Niall figured she had yet to truly experience the annoyance that was the Los Angeles area paparazzi, who seemed to lurk in the most inconvenient of places.

Niall gave a quick nod. 

"We were really hoping to avoid any leakage of our filming here today to the press, but it appears they've somehow found out. PR is trying their best right now to negotiate with the photographers about holding off the release images, in order to avoid any mess ups to our timeline but for now..." 

"You need us to put on a show," Niall sighed. 

"Exactly." Mike replied. "We'll send you out the main doors were they are standing. Just look like you are leaving set for the day, no answering questions, no posing for pictures, just get around the corner to your cars and you'll be done for the day."

"I think we can handle that," Krystal smiled looking over at Niall, who was still uncompelled to remove the frown from his face. Niall was beginning to think that she found this whole thing to be quite fun. He supposed that was a good thing considering it was her job.

"If you'll grab your things and follow me," Mike commanded. Niall grudgingly complied, grabbing his key and phone and stuffing them in his pocket. Krystal grabbed her purse from its place beside her chair and followed closely behind, her high heels clicking against the concrete floor. 

As they reach the main entrance, Mike stopped, looking towards the pair. "Ready?"

Krystal grabbed Niall's hand in her own, then wrapped her other arm around his, her head settling near his shoulder. He nodded and Mike opened up the door, releasing a variety of shouts and camera flashes in their direction. 

"Niall!"

"Krystal!" Paps shouted right and left, but Niall kept his head down and pulled Krystal alongside him, making their way towards cover and their vehicles on the side of the building. The 100 yards or so jaunt seemed like an eternity, but as soon as Niall and Krystal turned the corner and the paps were no longer in sight, Niall dropped his hand from Krystal's grip. 

"Well that was fun," Niall sighs.

"It really was. The whole shoot," Krystal responds, not catching the hint of sarcasm in Niall's voice. "Thank you." Krystal wrapped her arms around Niall in a hug before he has a moment  to react, then places a kiss on his cheek.

"See you later?" She asked, as Niall began to make his way towards his car.

"Yep," Niall replied shortly, ready to get home and put on some golf. He slanged the door to his Rover open with a little too much force, sliding across the black leather seats. "Fucking paps," he muttered to himself, before pressing the button to start it. The only thing on Niall's mind as he drove home was how much time he had before the pictures were released and disaster struck.

*********************

"Umm Kels," Becca called out from the living room. Kelsey had finally sat down to begin looking over the mountain of books that represented her prep for her LSAT. Niall had been on set for the music video the past three days, eliminating at least one distraction from her much needed study session. However, Kelsey had now been staring at a single practice question for twenty minutes, her brain seemingly shut off from absorbing any content.

"Yes?" Kelsey shouted back, not wanting to move from her perch from the kitchen table. Surely whatever Becca had to say could just be shouted from the next room. She thought she'd told Becca that she needed to focus. But clearly, her roommate had a much different idea of the definition of a distraction.

"You need to come in here and see this," Becca persisted. Kelsey groaned, turning her head around the chair to try and peer into the living room in hopes of seeing just what was so important, all she could catch was the faint glow of the corner of the TV.

"It's about Niall," Becca added, as if his name was some sort of treat that Kelsey couldn't ignore.  

"Becca, I'm studying. He's filming his music video this week remember. He's already sent me a hundred pictures from the set."  Becca had a bit of a TMZ obsession. Kelsey had seen pictures from the set that she could imagine would be worth quite a great deal to any number of tabloids. She liked that Niall was keeping her in the loop, showing her an aspect of his life that was so important to him.

Becca is quiet for a moment, and for a second, Kelsey thinks that her roommate may have gotten the hint. That is until Becca's unsteady voice breaks the silence again. "Was his girlfriend in any of those pictures?"

There are moments in life that completely blindside you. When it feels as though something has come out of nowhere and knocked you off a cliff. Kelsey thought she'd had enough of those moments in recent months to make her immune for the rest of her lifetime. Kelsey was wrong.

Kelsey felt her blood run cold. The pen she'd been holding between her thumb and index finger dropping with a clink onto the table. Had she misheard Becca?

She rose from her chair in a hurry, turning the corner to enter the living room and walk towards the TV.

"His what?" she replied in what felt like barely even a whisper, but as soon as she turned the corner into the living room she saw exactly what Becca is talking about. On the screen were some pap shots from the set of Niall's music video, but it's the photos of him leaving the set that throw her mind in a tailspin. There was Niall, the same beautiful brunette boy she'd woken up to only a few days before, but this time, his hand is intertwined with the hand of a tall, blonde girl. At first, Kelsey wanted to believe it was all part of the shoot, that this girl was the actress hired to play his love interest. But then the screen flashes to a photo of Niall and the same girl, posed together on the red carpet at the American Music Awards. The same night that Kelsey had first met Niall.

Kelsey felt her breath hitch, her lungs seemingly incapable of expanding. Her chest began to burn, the acid in her stomach began to tumble and suddenly she felt like she wasn't even in control of her own body anymore.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have thought that a celebrity like Niall wouldn't be stringing her along like he probably was ten other girls?

"Kels," Becca's voice said timidly, setting a hand gently on Kelsey's shoulder. "Are you okay?" Kelsey feels like the world around her is beginning to spin. The edges of her view collapsing in until all she can see is that girl, her picture perfect smile, and her arm wrapped around Niall like it belonged there. Kelsey tried to steady her breathing, inhaling from deep in her diaphragm and filling her lungs with air. But it's to no avail, the pressure is building inside her, until suddenly it bursts.

"Of course I'm not okay!" Kelsey shrieked. And suddenly all of her pent up frustration was projected on Becca. Her friend looked at her alarmed, as Kelsey's usual calm face had turned an alarming shade of scarlet.

Had the roles been reversed, had Becca been the one seeing the guy she was more or less dating appear on the TV screen with another woman, Kelsey would have been the first to question the validity of the source. Tabloids were infamous for twisting situations into their own sort of scandal. Their reliability comparable to using Wikipedia as a source for a college paper.

But this was Kelsey's heart they were talking about, and Kelsey's heart was made of pieces of glass barely held together, just one small blow away from shattering at any point in time. 

Seeing Niall with another girl, well that was more than a simple tap. That was a full-blown hammer.

This feeling of a shattered heart, it wasn't foreign to Kelsey. She'd felt it when she'd come back to her apartment senior year and found her best friend and boyfriend on top of each other, naked. She'd felt this way when her dad had come to her with a look of shock after finding his wife, her mother, with another man. But there was something about this shattered heart that felt even more painful. Like after this there would be too many pieces to even put back together again. 

"God how I could I be so stupid," Kelsey plopped down on the couch, putting her head on her hands. "How could I have not seen this coming?" She tried to think of the signs. Maybe it had been the fact that Niall had said he wasn't really available after their first night together. Or maybe her red flag should have been the important thing he hadn't had time to tell her the other day. Maybe that important thing was that Niall had a girlfriend, and this thing with Kelsey had just been a game to him. 

"Maybe it's not what it looks like?" Becca consoled, placing her arm on Kelsey's back in support. "I mean, celebrities are spotted together all the time, it doesn't mean they are together."

Becca's words do little to calm the storm that was rushing through Kelsey's body, sobs breaking through and transforming her breaths into shallow heaves of air. "I should never have made an exception. I wasn't ready." 

Kelsey lifted her head slowly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving a smeary black streak of eyeliner behind. "Okay karma you've gotten your share, whatever I've done to deserve all of this, surely this is payback. Surely this is enough."

"You didn't do anything to deserve this," Becca said softly, embracing her friend. "No one deserves what you've been through."

"Tell that to my life," Kelsey replied, before settling back into Becca's shoulders with some sobs.

*************************** Niall didn't even expect an answer as he knocked against the thin, white apartment door. He'd called Kelsey's cell phone five times without an answer, and he doubted showing up to her apartment would have2 any better results. He wasn't even confident it was the right door, as he'd never even physically been to Kelsey's apartment. So when the door opened and a flustered Becca's face appeared, all the words he  had rehearsed during his ride over vanished from his mouth. He watched as Becca's face turned from flustered to a scowl when she saw who stood at her door. And in that moment Niall knew he was already too late.

"What do you want?" Becca said sharply. Her brown eyes shooting daggers towards Niall's.

"I came to talk to Kelsey," he paused, scratching the top of his head. "And judging by the look on your face, I have some explaining to do."

"Oh I think it's a lot more than explaining," Becca glares at Niall. Niall began to wonder just how upset Kelsey must be if Becca is acting like this. 

"Please Becca it's not what it seems...if I could just have a minute..." Niall pleads. 

"Absolutely not." Becca said firmly as she stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. "Do you know what this did to her? She's practically in shambles, and the two of you have barely even spent time together. After everything that she's been through, and you don't even have the courage to tell her the truth? That girl's heart was barely holding together, and to find out something like a girlfriend..."

"It's not what it looks like," Niall interrupted. He didn't know what more he could say to get Becca to believe him, not without breaking likely several different portions of his contract. It was one thing to do that with Kelsey, someone that he trusted, but Becca? One slip of his secret out of her lips and his whole contract could be at stake. 

"I don't care what it is Niall, what it looks like is enough to crush that girl. And if you think for one second that I'm going to let you go into that apartment and crush her some more, you are wrong. She can't deal with that right now, so please just do the respectful thing and leave." Becca stands her ground, crossing her arms in front of her. 

"I..." Niall began, but Becca's eyes narrow in a way that tells him no words that he can formulate are going to change her position. He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. He turned slowly, ready to leave the apartment building. That's when Kelsey's face came to his mind. Her bright eyes and crooked smile, and the way her laugh made Niall feel like he had known her for his whole laugh. Giving up on her by simply walking away, without even trying to get Becca to understand would be like giving up on Kelsey all together. And Niall didn't want to do that, because things with Kelsey, well they were like something he'd never experienced before.

"Krystal's my fake girlfriend," he said suddenly, his words surprising even him. "And I'm going to find a way to prove it to the two of you." 

And with that Niall walked away, wondering if by spilling his secret he'd just ruined his career.

Tags: @awomanindeniall @ihearthemcallingforyou @niall-is-my-dream

[sm-entertain-me]

To the Highest Bidder (M)

Contains: Smut, Kim Taehyung x (f) reader, mild angst, rough sex, unprotected sex

Synopsis: All you had ever known was a life of mistreatment, but your life slowly changes when a new client makes his way into your life.

The air grew thicker around you as you stood in line with the other girls, all bound and gagged with miscellaneous items. You were fortunate enough to just be gagged with a damp cloth while some of the other girls unfortunately had to deal with metal rods that were way too big for their mouths, stretching them to painful widths. You shuddered as the freezing air nipped at your bare skin, the only part of you that was being covered was your pubic area and nipples, thin black lingerie clinging onto you, feeling your nipples getting harder and harder as the minutes passed. “Listen,” A deep voice bellowed out to you and the other girls that were in the exact same predicament as you. Each of your eyes followed to the voice that came from a tall, stocky man dressed in a maroon suit and black tie, a small “A” resting on his lapel as he glared at each one of you, studying you to make sure you were ready to face his clients. “Remember what I told you. If you don’t do as we say and you are unable to make asking price, you will be punished and we will not stop until all of you are sold.”

“Every last one of you.”

As you looked down the line, you saw girls of multiple ethnicities, all of them looking about your age. Sadly, some of them were unlucky when it came to being sold in this sick business deal your new “employer” had forced all of you through. At least two of the girls were brandished with multiple bruises on their wrists, one had a puffy eye that you could tell was a black eye from when she had been struck for either not obeying the strict laws put forth to you all, or simply she didn’t get enough money. She was the first one to break down, holding her bound hands to her face as she wailed loudly into her palms, tears soaking her battered and bloodied knuckles from previous altercations. Your boss, clad in the maroon suit, saw this and immediately rushed over to her, gripping her wrists forcefully as she cried out in agony, begging to be let go and crying out something along the lines of, “No one should be treated like this.” The boss sneered down at her, hands flying to her hair as he shoved her back against the wall, hands still gripping tightly to her scalp, “No one cares what you have to say, you disobedient fucking slut. You do as we say and you don’t bitch. It’s your fault for not getting sold at the price we want so you will stay here as long as we get our fucking money, no matter what cost your body will go through, do you understand?” The battered woman shuddered at his touch and flinched away from him as she nodded slowly, choking back more tears that were forming and threatening to fall down her face. 

From that point on, none of you spoke back to the boss except for the occasional yes sir and no sir when he asked you rhetorical questions regarding the clients and how this business was to be run. The business was quite simple, actually. You have absolutely no say in who you go to and what the client will have you do to them, or vice versa. You must comply with everything they desire and if word gets back that you have disobeyed your new master, you will have to pay with more servitude or worse; your life. Most of the desires of the clients were simply to do sexual favors for them, others were to just act as eye candy around their estate as some of them did have wives. You are never to leave them for the time of servitude you must endure and there is no guarantee on how long you have to stay with them. Some can be relieved in as little as one night, whereas some were to remain servants to their masters for weeks to come. You just wished you were lucky enough to receive the lighter sentence and only had to work as a maid or some form of eye candy without having to please any of them. But you had a feeling that wasn’t exactly why you were brought here. You were to be someone’s pet.

“Go on,” your boss said to you as it was now your turn to walk down the hallway and to your respective room, waiting to be bid on. He made it perfectly clear to you that you were to be on your best behavior and were supposed to make yourself look very “available”, whatever that meant. He held the black curtain to the side for you as you sighed lightly, looking down at your six inch stilettos that were anything but comfortable, hoping you wouldn’t fall on your face the minute you walked into the room to be put on display for the wealthy clients as that would surely bring down the value of your bidding. You finally got your bearings together in relation to walking with the stilettos and walked into the room that was dimly lit, completely void of anything comforting or practical for you. In fact, all that remained in that room besides the light fixtures was a circle pedestal on the floor, beckoning you to stand front and center in front of the mirrors that surrounded you on all sides. They were two-way mirrors, as you figured since there were no cameras in the room for the clients to see you. They would be able to see you, all of you, while you were rendered hopeless in seeing who you were to be sold to at the end of the night. That is, if you do get sold tonight.

Carefully stepping onto the white platform, you stood there silently, looking at yourself in the mirrors to see if you looked presentable. Your hair was done for you and your makeup was done a little heavier than you would’ve liked, but you had no choice in the matter of choosing your appearance tonight. For instance, you definitely wouldn’t have chosen the black lacy bustier that clung tightly to your chest, pushing your breasts up ever so slightly to show what you had to offer to your potential buyer, the matching thin thong wasn’t exactly your cup of tea either as it put your ass on display for everyone to see, and the black garters accompanying the sheer black thigh highs were just the icing on the cake. Luckily, you were allowed to wear a black satin robe for now to keep you from being so cold and allowing your nipples to stop being so perky in your barely there bustier. In the midst of you staring at yourself in the mirror, not really recognizing your reflection as yourself, the lights flashed brightly at you, causing you to squint your eyes together to protect your pupils from going wild to absorb the sudden burst of light. Instinctively, you grabbed at the tiny bow fastened around your waist, reluctantly untying it and letting the robe slide down to your ankles, kicking the robe to the carpeted floor as you awaited any further instruction.

The platform underneath began to turn slowly so that no client was denied looking at every angle of your body; from you supple breasts, to your plump buttocks and toned calves in those larger than life stiletto heels. You tried your best to keep from looking uncomfortable as it would surely hinder the clients from bidding properly, but it was really hard when the cold air was causing your nipples to tinge and goosebumps to ran ramped all over your body. “The asking price for our lovely subject here is:10 million dollars... a night.” The familiar deep voice rang out through the room, your jaw almost dropping open at such a steep price. You couldn’t even scrape together at least 10,000 dollars of your own, let alone 10 million. Although you couldn’t hear the clients contained on the opposite side of the glass, you could, however, hear the fast typing of the offers flying in to your boss’s computer until you only heard two distinct clacking of keyboard keys belonging to two different people locked in a bidding war for exclusive access to your body.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stand on that platform for much longer since it was just the two clients bidding, but soon you heard one pair of hands typing and then silence. The silence was eerie as you could tell the other client was trying to figure out just how much money you were worth and if the current bid was worth increasing at all. You didn’t exactly know how much money you had earned through the bidding but it didn’t really matter since you weren’t the one getting any of it, you were the good being exchanged so your boss could continue his sick game of stealing girls from the streets and using them for sex trafficking sales. Although, you will admit, this is probably the safest way of doing business as you were only being sold to wealthy clients, not to some creepy guys that were on the streets willing to pay 100 dollars for a quick handjob on the side of the road. You felt sorry for those girls, but you still felt sorry for yourself and all the other girls that were forced into this sick game. “Congratulations,” You heard a voice come from behind you at the door with the black velvet curtains covering it. You turned towards the man holding the door open, smirking at you, “You’ve earned us five times more than asking price. Very good for you. You’re going to one of my most important and wealthiest clients. He’s been known to treat our girls very nicely.”

After the whole bidding process was over, you were allowed to change out of your risque outfit that was strictly for the bidding shows, but you were forced to be in another outfit that the agency had provided you. A black dress that hugged your figure magnificently, accenting all of your assets in a tasteful way to not be overly sexual, stopping just above your knees paired with slightly less smaller heels that had more width than that damned stiletto heel they gave you. You didn’t sit down or anything because you figured the process would be quick and you just wanted to get the whole ordeal over with, even if it meant bowing down to some old rich guy that just wants to fuck a younger woman just so he could get his rocks off on it. A scowl branded your face as you thought of who you would have to be with until you heard the door open and saw the man that you were forced to serve tonight, the scowl dropping immediately and almost opening completely to express your shock in how gorgeous the man in front of you was.

The man was dressed in a black suit that was tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders, the deep red tie screaming out desire as it hung loosely around his neck, the dress shirt underneath slightly unbuttoned to show the gap between his collar bones in the neck area, and his pants clinging tightly to his toned thighs. “Y/N,” Your boss started as he stood between you and the beautiful man with chocolate eyes and a mess of shaggy brown hair that was barely contained with his hair gel. “This is our highest bidder ever, Mr. Kim Taehyung. I believe I’ve made it perfectly clear what your orders are for your night stay with him, yes? Good. Thank you for doing business with us again, Mr. Kim. We look forward to hearing back from you and your situation with our subject of your affection tonight.” Taehyung glanced at you, looking directly at your scarlet lips and then back at your boss, nodding slightly, “I have a feeling she’ll be a delight for me. Thank you, Alistair.” With that, Taehyung walked over to you and slinked his hand around your waist, his hand resting dangerously close to your ass that was accented perfectly in that tiny black dress. 

“So, I can tell this is your first time,” Taehyung said you as you two sat quietly in his lavish limousine, his hands gripping the glass of wine in his hand as his eyes explored you and your outfit respectively. As you felt his eyes resting on your breasts, you looked out of the window to hide your flushed cheeks, “Yes, it is. So I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to do.” Your response earned a quick chuckle from the devilishly handsome man in front of you as he shifted to sit next to you, leaning over you to set his wine glass down. Taehyung then returned to look you in the eyes, his stare piercing deep into your soul as you could see they were overcame with a look of desire, “It’s simple, really.” In the midst of talking with you, Taehyung’s hands teased at the hem of your dress as he lifted it up with his hands, trailing up your knee area and sliding lightly up your thigh, you gasping as his hands came closer to your pussy. “You do whatever I want you to do. If you don’t not only will Alistair punish you, but so will I,” Taehyung warned as he slipped his hand underneath your dress and tugged lightly at the waistband of your thong, his hand then changing paths to hover over your pussy, gripping the cloth in his strong hand. Yours eyes widened as you turned to look at him, is eyes still staring you dead in yours as his lip nested in between his teeth, biting really hard as he teased at your underwear. The way he looked at you, filled with lust, caused you to become slick in your panties and he could feel it as the corner of his lips formed a smirk, “Getting wet for me already? We haven’t even made it home yet.” 

As you two finally arrive at his mansion, Taehyung opened the door for you and allowed you to get out first, a gentleman really. Taehyung turned to his driver and nodded at him to park in the place he usually parks as he turned to you, licking his bottom lip, looking you up and down undressing you with his eyes. You just stood there, at the mercy of Taehyung and his wandering eye as he finally guided you to his front door, making sure to hurry when it came to getting the door unlocked so he can have his way with you in his bedroom. As much as you wanted to revolt at the idea of him fucking you just because he bought you for the night, you couldn’t help but to wonder how good he was in bed. What exactly did Alistair mean when he said he usually treated the other girls nicely? As in he was gentle or he left each of them a floundering mess on the bedroom floor? You would soon find out for yourself. 

Taehyung slung you over his shoulder after he kicked off his shoes and brought you to the bedroom, you banging on his back as you weren’t ready to go to the bedroom until you were clear as to what he wanted of you, as if this weren’t indicative enough for you. Taehyung was not happy as you repeatedly banged your fists against his hardened back muscle, earning a swift but hard slap to your ass as it bounced next to his shoulder, “If you keep pounding on my back, I’ll show you a good pounding myself.” Finally you stopped banging on his back and laid like a ragdoll on his shoulders, taking on the form of what you would ultimately have to be for Taehyung tonight. A ragdoll, just laying there to be fucked by a man who had enough money to buy you.

As Taehyung entered his bedroom, he threw you down on the red sheets that adorned his bed and immediately climbed on top of you, much to your distaste. As you tried to force him off of you, Taehyung grabbed each of your wrists and pinned the down next to you, his strong hands cutting off proper circulation to your wrists, “Oh so you want to be feisty huh? Been a while since I’ve had to deal with someone like you. Usually the women I fuck are so eager to have my cock in them, they’re begging me to fuck them the minute I bring them home. But don’t worry, I’ll have you a begging mess just like the rest of them.” Taehyung kept your wrists at the side of your temples as he began kissing at your jawline, working his way lower and onto your neck, biting and sucking at the span of your neck. You could feel the hickies forming on your neck as Taehyung continued his very arousing assault on your neck, finding his way down to your breasts that had no bra to be found. Taehyung smirked as his eyes met with yours, hands still firmly grasping at your wrists, placing his mouth over your left breast and teething his way at your nipple and knew he found it when you let out a surprising moan. You didn’t know how, but the way Taehyung bit and sucked at your nipple through your dress felt so amazing, sending chills up and down your body. 

When he figured you wouldn’t fight him off anymore, he released your wrists and continued to bite at your nipples to make them hard enough to poke through the black clothing while his other found his way up your thigh and rested on your clothed slit. With the hand at your slit, he tugged your thong down to the middle of your thigh and slid his finger over your sensitive clit, rubbing it with tiny circles that would occasionally get harder and faster as he heard the tiny moans escape your lips. His hand was beginning to be covered in your delicious juices as he stopped his attack of your nipples but made sure to continue to stimulate you where you needed it most, looking up at you, “Finally got you to stop fighting me. I know you want me inside of you so bad. I can feel it on my fingers.” “Maybe,” you teased at him as you bit your lip once you saw the growing bulge in his pants, his pants almost too tight that it was cause a painful strain on Taehyung’s lower region. Oh how you wanted nothing more than to just rip off those tight dress pants and underwear and have his huge, hard, throbbing cock deep inside your pussy. Taehyung saw the look on your face and glanced down at his bulge, smirking as he placed himself in between your legs and began to rub his thick member on your throbbing clit, a staggered moan escaping your lips as he did so. “Tell me you want me, baby,” Taehyung breathed out as he nestled his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your ear, sending another chill down your body. “Tell me you want me deep inside of you.”

You didn’t have the right mind to form words right now as the sensation from Taehyung’s dick rubbing with just enough friction to drive you closer to your edge, your actions speaking for yourself instead as you fumbled to get this damn dress off of you. Taehyung was surprised at your speed at getting the dress and your panties off so quick, but he didn’t mind as his eyes widened at the sight of your body underneath his. Your hands found their way to Taehyung’s belt line and tried to rip the belt off, but he stopped you momentarily as he looked in your eyes, “I need to hear you beg for it.” You usually weren’t the one to beg when it came to sex because usually the men were begging you to give it to them or at least trying their best to convince you to do it, but Taehyung seemed to be the only exception as the sinful words flooded from your lips, “Please fuck me, daddy. I need to feel your thick cock deep inside of me. I want you to make me scream. I want you to fuck me so hard that the only name I can remember is your name.” Taehyung’s lips formed an evil smile, “That’s more like it.” 

In a matter of seconds, Taehyung’s clothes were all thrown to the floor of his bedroom as he hovered over you again, lips crashing onto your as your tongues wrestled with one another, Taehyung’s hand finding his way back home on your pussy and rubbing your clit violently now, trying to get you closer to that release you desperately needed. You moaned loudly into his mouth and Taehyung’s dick was pressed onto your stomach, the wet tip sliding onto your stomach as the tip was coated in precum, ready to be slammed into your needy pussy. “Taehyung,” You moaned out as he bit down on your neck, licking his way down to your collar bone. “I need it.” “Patience my pet,” he said as his fingers were the one to slide effortlessly in your dripping wet entrance, forcing out a guttural moan that you didn’t even know was possible, him quickening his pace inside you and rubbing mercilessly at your swollen bud. You were at the mercy of Taehyung and he knew it as his smirk dug deep into your neck, your hands burying into his dark brown hair, trying to hold yourself together before letting out another sharp moan, Taehyung joining you this time as you moaned in harmony with the other.

Taehyung finally stopped the onslaught of teasing and heavy foreplay when he picked you up effortlessly and flipped you on your stomach, picking your hips up and angling them just the way he liked it as he admired your plump ass, your glistening folds peeking through with the way he had you angled in front of his cock. Before he entered you, he took his tongue and licked lasciviously at your dripping folds, the taste of you coating his taste buds. You gripped a handful of the sheets as he repeated the torture two more times, Taehyung licking his lips, “You just looked so good I had to have a taste.” Without warning, he slipped his tip into you effortlessly, your walls guiding him inwards towards your core. You wanted more of him to be inside of you so you angled your body in a way you knew his cock could explore every inch of your tight walls gripping greedily at his member inside of you. His moans were like the most beautiful symphony you have ever heard as he began to pick up speed after he let you get used to him inside of you, stretching you out just the way you liked it, even if it were a little more than you were used to before. The pain was all worth it as he rammed his dick deep inside of you, gripping hard at your hips to pull you towards him as he thrust himself deep inside of you, you crying out his name in sheer pleasure.

“Whose pussy is this?” Taehyung grunted at you as his hips were slamming against your ass, your ass bouncing quickly against his v-line. You were biting your lip at this point but finally let go, a streak of blood coming out of your lip as you did so to answer his lewd question, “Yours, daddy. It’s all yours!” He rammed his cock deeper into you as a sign of approval, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he finally began to hit your special spot just right. Oh god, you could already feel yourself becoming undone as he kept ramming that spot over and over again. He slapped your ass hard as he continued to thrust deeper into you, leaning over you and reaching for a wad of your hair, pulling you up to his face as he nipped at your ear, “God you feel so good. You’re taking my cock so well. Such a naughty girl, being a slut for her daddy.” The pleasure you were receiving in your pussy and the tingles from your hair being pulled just the way you like it were becoming too much for you as you cried out to him, “Daddy, I’m gonna... I gonna c-cum.” “Hold on for me baby,” He instructed as he let your hair go lightly and placed you where you could arch your back to impossible angles so he could feel you everywhere when you released yourself. And you knew how quickly it was coming.

As your ass bounced roughly against Taehyung’s groin, you could feel the coil in your stomach start to unwind, grabbing at the sheets next to you and burying your face inside that soft pillows of his bed. Taehyung’s hands were now gripping the headboard, that’s how deep he was inside of you as he thrust with all his might, trying to get you to reach your orgasm before him because he was adamant on you cumming first. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel your walls tighten around my cock,” He groaned out at you, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy as you could tell he too was reaching his climax. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long as you arched your back one last time to allow your body to reach your orgasm, feeling your walls clench around his cock and coating your walls with more lubrication for him to finish inside of you. You screamed out his name, saying it over and over like you were praying to him, some of the times you screamed his name becoming muffled in the pillow as your legs had given out from keeping you up for Taehyung to ram his cock deeper inside of you. “Y/N! I’m cumming!” Taehyung roared as he thrust the deepest he had ever gone throughout the whole night, his hot white cum shooting out of the tip and mixing with your bodily fluids, filling you to the brim with his cum and coating the both of you with it. 

Taehyung was still inside of you as he thrust a couple more times to help you and himself ride out your highs together, you still oddly chanting his name into the pillow as he was the only one to allow to you release this hard in your life. Taehyung collapsed on top of you, his chest glistening with sweat as he relaxed on you, rubbing your back to ease the pain you might have from having to arch your back so outlandishly to get as much contact you could with that oh so talented organ of his. Minutes later, when he realized you had calmed down and your breathing was back to normal, he pulled out of you and allowed the lewd mix of your fluids to fall onto the sheets in a thick, white pool. He had some napkins on the nightstand and began cleaning up as you relaxed your body and laid face down into the pillow, barely being able to speak to him, “That was... So amazing.” Taehyung looked at you with a boxy smile, laughing a little at your comment, “I thought so too... How much money would it cost to have you... do that with me for a long time?” A smirk formed on your face as you thought of a dollar amount that could buy you for that long, maybe working in a little discount here and there for him and only him.

“After that performance, it’s on the house.”

[thrandilf]

Plot Relevant Red Ch 5

Valerius was late for work in the first time in his administrative career, but every smooth thrust of Lucio inside him made it more and more difficult to care.

He sighed and occasionally moaned, the idea of missing work for a late morning bout of mischief made the whole thing even more arousing. Lucio was almost nonstop grinning, but Valerius was quick to pull him in for kiss after kiss every time Lucio threatened to speak. Lucio’s fangs grazed his tongue every few kisses, which Lucio turned into an excuse to kiss deeper. Valerius soaked in every touch and press of their bodies together, savoring how warm he was under the blankets. Their tongues languidly tangled together and Valerius ‘hmmmed’, hot and absorbed in sensation. It wasn’t a chase to an end, or a fit of passion as much as it was casually melding together into making love. When they finally finished, Valerius kept Lucio close. He rolled onto his side and brought Lucio in for a last kiss as they cuddled. “I think I must be at least two hours late.”

“How naughty of you.” Lucio beamed at him.

“Maybe a bit of trouble is fun to get into,” admitted Valerius, making no move to get up yet. He pulled enough overtime to warrant a bit of a break, although his morning wasn’t necessarily restful. A part of him was screaming that such a lack of punctuality was unforgivable- but also so wasn’t having to work past midnight? He stroked Lucio’s blond hair and sighed deeply, satisfied and calmed. It’d been a long time since he’d slept so late as to see bright sunlight streaming into a bedroom. “Can’t make a habit of it, though. I’m sure Nadia’s not happy with me. My staff probably thinks I’ve died.”

“You wanna tell them you have a sore throat?” Lucio wiggled his eyebrows and Valerius abruptly got out of bed with a snort. “Hey!”

“You’re the only one who’s going to be doing any sucking around here.”

“A vampire joke, very funny.” Valerius busied himself with getting dressed and ready for work, practicing an unapologetic look in the mirror for whoever pointed out his tardiness. Lucio got dressed in a puffy sleeved, low cut shirt and stood by the mirror to wash his face and tend to his makeup as Valerius braided his hair. It was startlingly domestic, having a lie in and then getting dressed side by side. Lucio grinned as he reapplied his eyeliner. “Do you like horseback riding? There’s a full moon in a couple days, a ride at sunset would be oh so romantic. You know how to ride?”

“I’d be disowned by now if I wasn’t at least somewhat educated in proper dressage.”

Lucio rolled his eyes. “Noble brat- so yes?”

Valerius tied a ribbon around the end of his braid. “It sounds lovely. I have a horse in the palace stables of my own.” It had been awhile since he’s ridden, but Valerius had no doubt he’d manage a pleasure ride out in the fields. He checked himself in the mirror again and made sure he looked perfectly composed. “I’ll arrange time for it.”

“I thought this morning would prove that you don’t have to arrange time for anything.” Lucio casually examined his eyeliner sharpness. “You’re late- no one’s dying or anything. You don’t have to sacrifice so much.”

“It’s a matter of pride. Responsibility.” Valerius huffed, his usual businesslike edge back in his voice. “We are not the same, Lucio. Don’t make me regret our morning together.”

Lucio frowned and gently took Valerius’s shoulder. Valerius was upset, he could tell. Their moments alone were when Valerius could let go, be someone without burdens or expectations. Lucio didn’t want anything to ruin that. “Hey. You worked something like 15 hours yesterday, maybe more for all I know. You were up late, exhausted, overwhelmed, and deserved a break. I let you sleep. I wanted you to get some rest and enjoy yourself. I know I’m irreverent, but not to you.”

Valerius sighed. He turned to Lucio and accepted a kiss. “Alright, I don’t regret it. I’m defensive about my station, is all.”

“I know.”

“Speaking of defensiveness- why can you see yourself in a mirror? Are you that weak of a vampire? How embarrassing.”

“Hey!” Lucio scowled at Valerius’s sly smirk. He scuffled his feet. “It’s not a real silver mirror. Shameful, I know.”

Valerius gave Lucio a fleeting kiss. “Practicality- I like this morsel of it.” He gave Lucio a firmer kiss, reassuring him despite his jabs and quips. “I’ll meet you in a couple days at sunset by the stables for our evening ride.”

Lucio gave him a fanged smile. “I’ll leave you in the dust.”

“Oh?” Valerius laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

Lucio had been right that Valerius’s late entrance to his office hadn’t yielded any more trouble than a few concerned employees and a slightly bigger stack of paperwork, nothing he couldn’t handle. Valerius poured himself a glass of wine to have with what had become lunch instead of breakfast with a sigh. Nothing would be able to convince him that fulfilling his duties were pointless, but his despair ran deeper. There was only so much he could do.

Vesuvia had an entire district flooded, a half broken economy, and no genuine public education system after it had sunk down in the flooded area. The previous Count’s death had left a vacuum, and Lucio had barely stabilized a sinking ship by having people like Valerius pail out as many problems as those that constantly filled in. Valerius drank straight from the wine bottle in his agitation, old problems and worries haunting him while he did all he could for the day to day issues of security and diplomacy. For God’s sake, their postal service only limped along as it did because his consulate stepped in to take over the department.

And none of the court did a thing about it. Nadia spent her days in her tower or library, busying herself with this or that but effectively locked out of power by Lucio. Every single courtier barely did anything. It was a messy process to revoke titles (as Valerius knew from studying it desperately and obsessively) and it seemed as though he’d be stuck with Valdemar, Volta, Vulgora, and Vlastomil for a long time. Their inefficiency was the root of Valerius’s problems. Food strangely disappeared. Murders went unsolved or even encouraged. The court system itself was an unjust wreck and Valerius had been tempted many times to simply snap Vlastomil’s neck himself like the stem of a wineglass for his incompetence.

As romantic as Lucio wanted to be, Valerius couldn’t separate his work life and love life. It was all his life. Valerius knew something had to change, and soon. He rubbed his forehead as a headache brewed inside his skull. Lucio had information and power. His heart couldn’t let Lucio hold out any longer- something had to give before Valerius snapped.

-~-

The orange rays of sunset lit up the palace gardens in a warm glow. Valerius had yet another horrible workday, but couldn’t wait to go riding. The evening was looking to be the most promising part of his entire week. He’d changed into riding gear and made his way to the stables, pleased to see his horse was already groomed and saddled. The seal brown horse had a beautiful black and brown tinted coat and a gentle disposition. Valerius approached where she was tethered and waiting by a mounting block and affectionately pet her nose, smiling as she turned her head to look at him. “Hello, Dolcetto. It’s been too long, hm?”

While Valerius knew his mare was properly cared for and exercised like all palace horses, he still wished he had more time to spend. He rubbed Dolcetto’s neck and smiled as she bumped her head against his shoulder. Perhaps the only thing everyone could agree on was that the palace would be a dreary place without all of their resident animals.

Mercedes and Melchior barked from behind Valerius and he turned to see Lucio and his dogs behind him. Mercedes wagged her tail and sniffed Dolcetto’s legs as the horse happily ignored her. Lucio stared at Valerius. “Pretty horse- and- uh.” Lucio swallowed hard. “How long have you had that outfit and never worn it?”

While Lucio was in his own version of dressed down in a loose layered tunic reminiscent of his mercenary days, Valerius was far more formal. He had his hair in a strict French braid trailing down his back. Valerius’s riding jacket was pure black with gold buttons and tailored to fit his frame tightly, along with a white dress shirt with only a respectable amount of shirt ruffle poking out of his jacket top, light breeches, knee high black boots, and black gloves. Valerius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you like it? I don’t wear equestrian garments in my office.”

“Hhhhng. It’s. It’s really-“ Lucio swallowed, endearingly flustered. Melchior tugged on Lucio’s belt with an impatient yip as Lucio stared starstruck at Valerius. “You look good. God, add a riding crop to that look and I’d be on my knees, just for you.”

Valerius’s voice was smooth and smug. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind. Now, love-“ Valerius eyed Lucio up and down. He looked good. No sense in inflating Lucio’s ego. “How about you prove you have an ounce of proper posture and instruction, and I’ll see about smuggling a riding crop out of here.”

Lucio was still internally drooling too much to even listen enough to be offended. “Yes- yes you do that.” His eyes very clearly roved over Valerius’s backside and the outlined curve of his spine as Valerius checked his tack, as if Lucio hadn’t seen him undressed several times. “Mercedes and Melchior are coming with us- they love going for a run.”

“Aren’t you worried they could possibly take off?” Valerius had always wondered how such misbehaved dogs could manage to love Lucio so unconditionally. “Sighthounds can get carried away.”

“They’re my familiars!” Lucio grinned and Mercedes and Melchior obediently sat at his feet with their tongues out, tails thumping happily.

Valerius thought about pointing out that you had to possess magic in order to have a familiar, but reminded himself that he really didn’t know what Lucio could do. Vampires were technically magical, he supposed. “Alright, if you’re sure.” He pet Dolcetto’s ears and posed by her with a grin. “You better give us a good run, Lucio.”

Lucio jogged away to lead out his own horse. “Ha! Smell ya later!”

Valerius was still trying to reconcile himself with the fact that the subject of his desire said such low class phrases as he untied Dolcetto and mounted the horse easily. He took the reins in both hands and balanced himself in the saddle, a rare smile of delight on his face as he adjusted to the creature’s walking movement beneath him. He relaxed and kept his back straight, moving fluidly with his mount as they walked out of the stables and then waited for Lucio.

Lucio’s horse was exactly what Valerius expected. Lucio sat haughtily on a pure white stallion, comfortable in what was a heavily engraved bulky leather saddle, foreign to Valerius with a deep seat, a couple small canvas bags attacked to it, and a saddle horn that Lucio kept his armored hand close to, the reins lazily held in one hand on his thigh. Lucio came up beside him and gestured out to the rapidly dying sunset. “There’s a short trail through the forest to take before we get to the fields. Just figure you’d better know where we’re going cause you’re gonna get let behind.”

“By the looks of your poor posture and how desperately you cling to that atrocious saddle, you’ll fall off first.”

“Hey!” Lucio glared. “It’s far more functional than yours. Ever spent an entire day tracking down thieves and runaway war criminals in a country you’ve never even been? Didn’t think so.”

“I ride properly, and am closer to my horse.” It didn’t matter if Lucio had a point- Valerius loved to argue. “My saddle is lighter and less cumbersome. If you need to jump over anything you’ll probably jab that horn into your stomach. So we’ll see who’s the best rider.” As if to add to Valerius’s smugness about properness, Lucio’s stallion turned tried to nuzzle Dolcetto’s shoulder with a neigh. She laid her ears back and snorted, achieving such a witheringly disinterested look that the stallion turned away and walked forward again.

“She takes after you, by that display.” Lucio straightened up and pointed his heels down in his stirrups. Something came over him, as the young moonlight of early evening glowed on his white steed and blond hair, casting Lucio into an ethereal light. For once, Valerius could clearly see the proud bandit lord in the Count. It was beyond his usual grandstanding about his greatness in the palace halls- he radiated confidence and authority, eyes glistening with excitement for a hunt under the moon. Valerius found himself drawn to Lucio all over again, the vampire in his element under the starlit night sky.

Lucio grinned as Mercedes and Melchior barked and ran in front of them, already taking off to the forest. “I’ve ridden into battle and led hunts against creatures you can’t even imagine. I am the son of the greatest clan queen of the southern mountains!” Lucio urged his horse into a gallop with a war cry and Valerius followed, wind whistling in his ears as his eyes adjusted to the silver light.

Despite his teasing, Valerius had a grudging respect as he raced after Lucio. Lucio’s horse could definitely outrun his with sheer strength. Following the stallion and hounds was like chasing clouds across the pastures. Cool wind whipped at his braid and Valerius laughed, steadily catching up enough to keep them in sight but not being so reckless as to speed ahead. Mercedes and Melchior reached the forest first and wove into the underbrush. Lucio slowed to a brisk trot and Valerius followed, trusting his horse’s eyes better than his own. They breezed through the dim silhouettes of trees, occasionally ducking under low hanging branches.

The forest air was cool and refreshing, a stark difference to the lightly perfumed aura the gardens had. Valerius breathed deeply. No part of Vesuvia was any less gorgeous to him. The palace was splendid in its own right, but the untouched nature around it was just as much home. Riding out west would bring them to his ancestral estate, a vineyard nestled in with other farmlands in the country’s breadbasket. He longed for it somedays, but knew where his place was.

The forest broke into the open expanse of field at Vesuvia’s border and the dogs howled, bolting ahead at something only they could see. Lucio whooped and followed, his stallion flying over the wild grasses. Valerius lightly urged Dolcetto on and she was instantly galloping after Lucio. Valerius leaned toward into her easy canter and focused on her movement and following Lucio with a clearer mind than he’d had in months, stresses and headaches left far behind.

Mercedes and Melchior howled and both dogs converged on a spot within the high grasses. Lucio caught up and circled around the dogs as they snarled and attacked something Valerius couldn’t see. He followed Lucio in loosely surrounding the dogs, slowing down until they were just at a walk. Lucio grinned proudly and looked at Mercedes and Melchior, growling and standing over what Valerius could only see as a shapeless mound of fur. Mercedes and Melchior’s muzzles were drenched in blood. “Ah, raccoon.”

“How vile.” Valerius curled his lip at the bestial display of violence.

“I love animals, but don’t shed tears over that thing.” Lucio came to a full stop as he spoke. “If that raccoon had its way, it’d claw my dogs’ eyes out.” Mercedes and Melchior whimpered at the thought. Lucio looked around and guided his horse towards a small grove of trees. “Picnic time!”

Valerius followed Lucio and dismounted by the cluster of trees. He took the bridle bit out of Dolcetto’s mouth and tied her to a tree far enough away from Lucio’s horse that they couldn’t bother each other. Valerius affectionately patted her neck as Lucio tended to his horse and laid out a blanket for them to sit on. Dolcetto nuzzled Valerius’s stomach and then grazed calmly by their blanket. Valerius reclined on the blanket spread a small ways away from the tree and sighed, gazing up at the night sky. “It’s beautiful out here.” He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced at Lucio.

Lucio pet his horse’s ears and chuckled as his horse blew his hair all over his face. “Whatever, Excalibur. You love me.” Lucio patted his thigh and the dogs bounded up to him. “Watch our horses, okay? Good dogs!”

“Excalibur? Really?” Valerius was pleased as Lucio sat down beside him, close enough their thighs touched.

“Yes, duh! He’s a perfect majestic horse. Nothing less.” Mercedes and Melchior each sat near one of their mounts, ears perked up as they kept watch. Valerius had to admire Lucio’s bond to them. Lucio handed him a small bag with slices of fruit, meats, and cheese to nibble on. Valerius gratefully took a few bites and hummed with satisfaction, only mildly disappointed that he didn’t have a wine to pair with them. Lucio held Valerius’s waist with his human arm when he was done eating. “Indulge me?”

“My favorite pastime.” Valerius turned his body and rested his hand on Lucio’s cheek, bringing him in for a gentle kiss. Their lips melted together and Lucio didn’t move back, continuing to softly press against Valerius and hold him close. Lucio broke the kissing after a few minutes, the two warm and breathing with passion, the cool night refreshing them instantly. “Lucio.”

“Hm?”

Valerius stroked Lucio’s hair and sat up, facing Lucio. He had a feeling Lucio already knew the questions that burned in his mind. Lucio didn’t blurt out his secrets, so Valerius sighed. “You know I need information. I know this has spiraled far from being a casual affair, but I am the Consul and head of the court as much as I am your lover.”

“I know.” Lucio sighed, also leaning back to bask in the moonlight. “I’ll answer what I can. It wasn’t safe to try explaining anything at the palace.”

Valerius tried to come up with a question good enough to break into the dam of uncertainty and problems he had. Only one was good enough. “What the fuck?”

Lucio laughed, genuinely amused and threw back his head. Valerius’s own mouth twitched into a smile as he realized he very much liked seeing himself let down all his guard. Lucio laid back on his human hand to look up at the moon. “I don’t know everything, you have to believe me. What I can tell you, though, is that none of the other courtiers are human. I’m the most human of the lot, while whatever Valdemar is is too horrifying to speak of.”

“Why are they allowed to serve?! We should-“

Lucio cut him off. “Vlastomil was the first one I ever met. I didn’t know what human shape he’d take, or that I’d be stuck with the idiot for the foreseeable future. He’s a demon of pestilence, and believe me, I’d kill him if I could.” Lucio made a disgusted face. “My people paid tribute to local demons. We feared and revered them. I don’t think anyone actually used the word demon. Spirit, small god, a hunter or perhaps a guardian- doesn’t matter. I asked him for help, and now I’m stuck with him. There’s no way to get out of having these people around us unless I die or someone powerful beyond human capabilities takes them out. I’m sorry.”

Valerius let it soak in. “Volta? Vulgora?”

“Demons too. I don’t think they’ve always been. They must’ve been human once.” Lucio frowned. “Volta is the youngest I think. She isn’t very threatening, but there’s not too much point to killing her.”

Valerius didn’t think he was up to dealing with demons. He scowled, hating the idea he’d still be helpless in all this. “And you?”

“I’m like a vampire, but I wasn’t bit and turned by one.” Lucio made a face. “It’s why sunlight isn’t a death sentence, and why I need so little blood and can pass for human. Silver is the only real problem I have. I’ve made some sketchy choices, and this is what happened to me.”

“No chance of you elaborating?”

Lucio sighed again. “Beings of power offered me deals, and none of them were ever for free. Bits of me were taken away, things I didn’t even notice at the time. Everything will work out- I know it will, but I can’t alter my course. I literally can’t.”

Valerius glared at Lucio and Lucio flinched back. “How do you KNOW everything will be fine? What the hell are you thinking?! Our country is a mess! Did a witch tell you their cards fell to your favor so you’re wandering about doing nothing but let our people suffer?!”

Lucio scowled. “Shut up. You don’t want to get tangled in this. You really don’t. I’m only telling you so you get why I need you to stay out of it!”

“What about Nadia?”

Lucio’s face darkened. “What about her?”

“I need her. You do too, if you’re being honest.”

“No. She’ll-“

Valerius interrupted, passion overtaking his voice. “What are you scared of, success? Nadia is the best of us! She could rule far more efficiently than even I ever could! Nadia could have our people prospering. This city could look how it used to!”

“She’ll overthrow me!” Lucio snarled. Despair crossed his face and he narrowed his eyes. “I am as much your lover as I am your Count, citizen Valerius. Don’t you fucking forget it!”

Valerius recoiled at the threat but stood his ground. “She is Countess! She has the same right and power as you by your marriage to her! Both of you have to work, together. I am not suggesting treason, My Most Highest Lord~” he mocked with a sneer. “Nadia could help. I need her to help! Dysfunction is the reason why I pull the hours I do! If I can’t do anything about my fellow courtiers, than at least I can appeal to who CAN help me! I don’t give a damn about your pride!”

“Wow, you’d let a foreigner marry onto the Count’s seat and just take it, huh? I earned my place!”

“You married her! You married her for an advantage you wont even use?!” shouted Valerius.

Lucio looked like he still wanted to argue but backed down. “Alright. Perhaps I can delegate to her. Help out with the smaller things.” Lucio shook his head. “But that’s it. She’d take Vesuvia from me, and I’d have no way to hold onto what power I have over the court. I can’t let that happen.”

Valerius inwardly seethed. Nadia would be a better ruler, he knew it. She’d do everything he needed, secure their nation for good. He mentally rehearsed a delightfully simple plot to overthrow Lucio and escort Nadia to her solo role as Countess with Valerius as her right hand, but he stopped in the middle of it.

Valerius had never wanted anyone like he wanted Lucio. Their time together, the bond they so comfortably fit into, a possible future fiancé his parents couldn’t refuse to see the benefits of- all irreplaceable factors. There was no better place for him than with the Count in his arms. It was one thing Valerius’s newly smitten heart and forever ambitious mind agreed on. He pushed thoughts of (justifiable) treason out of his mind and kissed Lucio instead. Lucio relaxed into it, thinking Valerius was satisfied. It was a rough compromise. Valerius didn’t like anything he’d heard except that Lucio had no chance of accidentally turning him into a vampire. “Alright,” he murmured, looking into Lucio’s eyes. “Thank you. I appreciate what I’ve gained. Nadia will not supersede either of us.”

Lucio nodded. He stroked Valerius’s face and gave him an uncharacteristically chaste kiss. “Alright, you got to get all personal with me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Can’t a guy be curious? Our backgrounds couldn’t have been more different, unless you’re gonna reveal that you’ve been a secret master forager and hunter all this time.”

Valerius smiled. The change of subject was somewhat forced, but he understood the cue to move on. He didn’t want to spoil anything they had, and he had to admit he was coming out of their argument with more than he lost. “True. Like I said before, I was born into nobility. All of my family is somewhere somewhat prominent and successful. I have a brother working as a history professor and curator of artifacts in Prakra, cousins involved in trade with Nevivon, and a sister managing the home estate and vineyard. My parents are wealthy and retired from office- one paints, one tends to travel.

“My childhood is mostly a blur of lessons. My education was the only thing that mattered. Cuisine, etiquette, music theory, history, art, language, business management, law, and equestrian lessons were all I did. I had private tutors and studied every day unless I was sick.”

“Geez, you didn’t even have a childhood.”

Valerius shrugged. He’d never thought about what being a child was supposed to be like. “I succeeded, as is what’s expected of me. It’s hardly a punishment to have fine food every day and horses to ride any time I wanted.”

“But before you met me you never just did your own thing? Like I’m exhausted imagining having someone try to tell me things like, every day.” Valerius bit back the comment that many people tried to do just that and Lucio rarely listened. Lucio stared into the sky. “If my knees weren’t covered in grass stains or my clothes dirty and soaked from playing in the snow, then it was a waste of a day. Being taught anything indoors was horrible.”

“I was an introverted child. My free time was mainly spent reading.”

Lucio chuckled. “You’re cute when you read! You look like you’re plotting someone’s murder while smirking about it.” Valerius chuffed with amusement. He brought Lucio in for a kiss and savored their moonlit embrace. Lucio gave Valerius a sultry look when he pulled away, eyes hooded as he licked his lips. “Now, this is your chance to see if you really object to having passionate-“

“For the LAST time, I refuse to copulate outside!” exclaimed Valerius as Lucio howled with laughter. They might’ve stayed longer if Excalibur hadn’t decided that Lucio’s hair looked delicious and tried to graze his head, turning Lucio’s laughter into a dismayed shriek.

The ride back home was more subdued than the exhilarating race to the wilderness. Mercedes and Melchior trotted ahead but acted more as guides than hunters. With the slower pace, Lucio’s stallion Excalibur was fully aware that he was being followed by a mare and pranced and posed in front of Valerius, bouncing Lucio ridiculously up and down in his seat and weaving around, to Valerius’s delight.

“Really?” Lucio made no real effort to rein Excalibur in and turned to face Valerius, his supernatural eyes fully able to see Valerius’s smug expression in the dark. “Your mare is a bad influence.”

Excalibur tossed his head with a whinny and Valerius kept grinning. “He takes after you.”

-~-

Valerius was thoroughly tired by the time their horses were safely housed back in the stables (with a few loud protests from Excalibur) and gratefully sank into a warm bath back at the palace. Lucio, for all his usual flirtations, insisted Valerius bathe alone. He suspected Lucio didn’t enjoy baths with his prosthetic, or was too embarrassed to take it off.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the edge of the bath, thoughts swirling in his head as the mineral salts in the water soaked into him pleasantly. Progress was progress, no matter how small. The knowledge Lucio had given him had to help. He hazily opened his eyes and frowned at a spot on the bright walls of the bath that he knew didn’t belong. Valerius rubbed his eyes and groaned at the sight of a bug crawling on the wall. He blearily stood up and realized it was some kind of exotic, large red beetle. It crawled out the open window and Valerius latched it shut without a second thought.

[seitjun]

springtime

Title: Springtime

Pairing: mayuaka

Ratings/Warnings: none lol

Summary:  In which Mayuzumi Chihiro is a tired producer who doesn't like spring or Akashi, and Akashi Seijuro is a male-idol-in-training who absolutely likes Mayuzumi.

Notes: sorry this is so late! i was in a rush to put this up, so im sorry if you find a few spelling errors, but ill fix it soon ^^; but i hope you like this! for @kitkatwolfy ! also, i suggest reading on ao3 for some important notes that i dont want to get lost here!

Read on AO3 or below!

For as much as it’s a common trope in his beloved light novels – and more recently, mangas – Mayuzumi detests spring. But contrary to the belief of the many, affronted Japanese people that he’s told his dislike of spring to, he doesn’t detest it because of its symbolic nature or just to rebel against the people’s belief.

No, he hates it for a completely different reason, and it comes in the form of a place called Yumenosaki Private Academy – explicitly put, an academy dedicated to producing male idols . Mayuzumi loves idols as much as the next fanatic, but a school for just male idols is pushing it, even for him.

That’s only half of the reason behind his hatred of spring, though; the reason for his detestment of it is that it means that classes start up again. So with classes starting up again, Mayuzumi is forced to endure another year of absolute bullshit from the academy’s biggest and most popular (asshole) idol.

Akashi Seijuro. Damn the kid, honestly. If it wasn’t for him, Mayuzumi would've enjoyed a nice and normal life as a struggling university student who’s majoring in Publishing of all things.

Instead, he’s become the guinea pig of the school because thanks to Akashi Seijuro again, he’s the first and only student who’s studying how toproduce/manage idols instead of becoming one. Granted it’s better that he got put into a producing course instead of the product course, but still.

“Ah, Chihiro. It’s nice to see you be my manager again this year,” Akashi greets, hands holding 2 cups of coffee.

And oh , can’t forget that the same little shit who dragged him into this entire thing just also had to be one he had to manage and produce.

“Not so nice on my side, though,” Mayuzumi retorts, his own hand still accepting the coffee offered by Akashi; the older male might not like the younger, but it was free coffee .

“But I gave you your favorite order from your favorite coffeehouse, and on my part, I haven’t insulted any of your light novels on this pleasant morning.”

“I’ll give you points for the coffee, but you just talking to me makes my morning unpleasant.”

“Fair enough.”

//

Despite what his thinking, he keeps his mouth shut from starting a bigger feud with Akashi by sipping his coffee; as much as he still didn’t enjoy the presence of the other, walking in silence was something he could do easily. He even outdoes himself by not making a single, snarky comment about how unnecessarily loud Akashi was being in his sipping.

(Akashi barely stifles the urge to sigh in annoyance and only sips louder to vent his frustrations, but he'll get his chance later.)

“Chihiro, may I know what your schedule for this year is?”

“We have the same schedule, except for last period when I have my producer specific class,” Mayuzumi replies without blinking, still skimming over the colored paper in his hand to memorize the order of his classes.

“I realize that, however I’d still like to view it. I’m your idol, after all, and the producers listen to idols.”

“I’m your producer, not your babysitter, Akashi. That request of yours, as simple as it is, is useless and irritating, meaning I don't have to do it.”

Mayuzumi feels the annoyed, piercing stare of Akashi’s on him, but he only keeps looking through all the information on the paper. He folds it up a few moments later to tuck it into his back pocket, only to see a familiar hand pluck it from Mayuzumi’s grip and unfold it again.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“It does no harm for me to view this and confirm that we have most classes together, even if you’ll just be spectating to manage me like always.” Akashi moves his gaze to stare up at his senior. “Besides, I could have also just waited to steal it from your back pocket.”

“...piece of shit kouhai.”

“Yet you still enabled me last year and now this year.”

(Akashi both cheers and curses inwardly; he shouldn’t have revealed that part of the plan, but he does notice how Mayuzumi doesn’t fight him on his last point. He’ll save the backside pick pocket for the future.)

//

Mayuzumi frowns lightly, eyes skimming through the folder filled with paperwork and information for Akashi; he had forgotten how much paperwork he had to do at the start of the year, and he silently groans at the seemingly bigger stack for the current year.

Deciding to leave it for tomorrow – or also the day after tomorrow – he slips the papers back into the folder and sets it on the table. He turns around to speak to Akashi, only to yelp out a loud string of curses at the curious gaze of the boy in front of him.

“Oi, Akashit! Don’t surprise me like that!” Mayuzumi clutches the fabric over his pulsing heart, trying to regain some breath back after. “And you’re standing too close to me, back up.”

.

.

.

“I won’t hesitate to push you back with whatever force I need,” Mayuzumi threatens, one hand moving from his chest towards Akashi’s instead, when the other didn’t back up.

Seemingly snapping out of a trance, Akashi blinks for the first time in a while before smiling softly and replying, “Ah, apologies, Chihiro.”

The producer sighs quietly in relief, watching Akashi take a step back. It takes a moment after that, but Mayuzumi gets his heartbeat under control again to direct a disgruntled look towards his idol; he quirks his eyebrows, silently asking Akashi what he needed.

Akashi catches the look, but only shakes his head with the same, infuriatingly soft smile on his face. “Nothing, Chihiro. Am I suddenly not allowed to be close to my producer?”

Mayuzumi stares disbelievingly at the smaller male for a few seconds before muttering, “Just get into the sound booth, and go get started on warming up. The next song you’re singing is on the music stand already.”

“I suppose you’re right,” the redhead comments simply before following Mayuzumi’s instructions.

Mayuzumi just sighs again, ignoring how his heart suddenly started to beat fast again after Akashi’s reply or how he just now realized how good of a singer the other was.

(Akashi just finds amusement in it all, despite his own heart racing too and his excitement for the rest of the day ramping up.)

“Stop staring at my ass, Akashi,” Mayuzumi orders for the third time that practice period.

“I’m not staring, Chihiro. You’re standing in front of a mirror that I’m using to practice my routines.”

“I can feel your gaze, and your eyes have been on me the entire time.”

“Can’t I say the same for you? But then again, I can’t blame you considering the outfits I’m made to wear for ease of practice.”

“Just quit staring, you bastard.”

“You first, my dear producer.”

(Akashi doesn’t, for obvious reasons, but he notes how Mayuzumi doesn’t stop either. What a hypocrite.)

//

Mayuzumi furrows his brows at the problem in front of him, hands fiddling with a handful of cables leading to equipment that he’d definitely not be able to pay off if he fucked up that bad.

“This has to be a fucking joke,” he mutters under his breath, watching how none of the equipment work still. He’s tempted to call over one of the more experienced techies, but he’s also spitefully independent enough to keep trying until something actually breaks.

He unplugs all of the cables again, starting over for probably the fourth time already. He grabs the first two that he’s definitely sure of, returning it to their previous positions before moving on; if Mayuzumi’s being honest, he’s sweating slightly from his task – he has to solve it soon, otherwise his idol can't practice, like for an actual performance, and he basically gets deemed useless.

“And I’m not getting labeled as useless,” Mayuzumi growls in renewed energy. His hand reaches for another cable to solve only for his hand to bump into something . Having been a little too absorbed, Mayuzumi retracts his hand as much as he can and jolts backwards.

Wrong way.

He groans when he stumbles back into the equipment out of being surprised, feeling the protruding buttons and thingymajigs basically jabbing into his body. He wants to yell at the other, but all that escapes is a wheeze before his eyes process the outfit of the boy in front of him.

Well, actually, he doesn’t process the outfit. He just processes the unbuttoned shirt, eyes unfortunately glued at how genuinely nice Akashi’s torso was. But he forces his eyes away to meet Akashi’s glinting ones, and Mayuzumi narrows his eyes, all previous attraction – wait – gone. “I take back my words. That outfit is the real joke here, right?”

Akashi shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. Usually there’s no changing of uniforms, but I’m a solo idol rather than in a team, so I do have to have a costume change yearly.”

“And they chose...that?”

“Only to show off more of my body, otherwise my previous years of basketball training will go unappreciated.”

Mayuzumi bites his tongue; he hates just how effective the costume is, especially on him.

(Akashi loves just how effective the costume is, especially on him.)

//

“I’m afraid we go our separate ways now, Chihiro.”

Mayuzumi lets out a sigh of relief, murmuring a quick thank you to whatever deity existed out there. He’d actually clasp his hands together to prove how thankful he is, but one hand’s too busy holding an ice pack against his back; turns out he hit the equipment harder than he thought, but at least he didn’t break anything.

Well, hopefully at least.

“I hope you enjoy your producer class. I know I’ll enjoy mine as apparently, we’ll be having a discussion about current partners.”

Mayuzumi does not like the sound of that or the feeling of foreboding chills crawling up his spine.

“We might be getting the opportunity to be reassigned apparently,” Akashi mentions flippantly, as if that statement couldn’t possibly change their entire year at the damned academy.

And immediately, Mayuzumi knows: this is a goddamn trap. Ever since the start of their attendance, the head of the entire place always emphasized the importance of the boys’ choice in their group because they’d be staying together for the entirety of their time at the place. The older wants to ask what the entire point of the lie is when it’s obvious, but he’s beaten to it by Akashi’s next words.

“But considering our reputation of having a rather turbulent dynamic, you’ll be fine if I started to find dynamics with others, yes?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” Akashi retorts easily, and Mayuzumi glowers at the humor until the other sighs and replies seriously, “Despite how I’ve acted the whole time, I am aware of your opinions about me, so I talked to the head of the academy about possibly remedying this issue for you–”

Mayuzumi feels his entire body turn cold at the thought – something he didn’t think could happen during all last year when he hadn’t realized all he had done. Fuck, was he that bad with his emotions that his automagic response to liking Akashi was banning it to his unconscious and being irritated?

(Yes.)

“–so if you would like, we can rearrange positions and–Ch-Chihiro, what–?!”

Mayuzumi is sure he blacks out for a moment, because in the next moment, he finds himself a little too close to Akashi with his lips pressed softly against the other’s. And goddamn his traitor heart, because it’s beating so fast and so loud and is basically screaming out for more .

And his just-as-traitorous mind decides to agree, his eyes slipping shut and his lips pressing more urgently against Akashi’s; and then he keeps diving for more and more and more, just like how his heart and mind is telling him to.

When he finally pulls away to separate them, all the two of them can do is let out a breathy ‘ oh’.

“Look here, Akashit, you bring this up again ever in the future, and I will not hesitate to drop out of this damn program to fall off the grid forever and then cut all contact with you,” Mayuzumi hisses after minutes of trying to catch his breath again, cheeks flushed an embarrassingly bright red with his hands still tightly gripping onto Akashi’s shirt.

“I cannot fucking believe that I just had to end up liking the idol–”

“–boyfriend–”

“–boyfriend that I’ve found a hindrance to me for an entire year. I didn’t even know my lack of interest in real life girls meant I’d be into a real guy, and it was you!”

The redhead huffs in breathless annoyance at his new boyfriend’s rant, but dives in for another kiss of that damned, annoying senpai of his he just had to end up liking; the said senpai just falls into it easily, thinking the same thing about the younger brat.

(Mayuzumi still hates spring but just a little less; Akashu finds a whole new love for spring.)

[spooked101-blog]

Voices In My Head (A mysmes fanfic)

Rating M

Status Complete

Warnings: none this a nice chapter

Word count: 2800

Voices In My Head Chapter 4 MC’s POV

The alarm going off next to her ear is what woke her up. MC groaned as she shut off the alarm and sat up in her bed. She had so much to do today; Yoosung needed help in his anatomy class, Jaehee needed help in her coffee shop, Zen wanted to hang out while he practiced his lines, and she had to start organizing the next RFA party. MC groaned and pushed her bangs out of her face. This is going to be a long day. She thought as she got out of bed and picked out her outfit for the day.

She grabbed a tan colored sweater to go over a black long-sleeve shirt, and some black tights to go under her usual black skirt. She grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom to shower. After showering, she brushed her hair and pulled it into a high ponytail, pinning her bangs to one side. MC left the bathroom and went to the kitchen, she made herself coffee but jumped when she saw Saeran sleeping on her couch. Oh… that’s right he needed a place to stay. I completely forgot! MC sighed as she tried to calm herself down. She poured her coffee into a travel mug and grabbed her bag from the table. MC went over to the couch and gently shook Saeran’s shoulder. “Hey… I’m leaving, I don’t know when I’ll be back but, you don’t have to stay inside all day.” MC told Saeran as he groggily looked up at her. She wasn’t used to seeing him without the mint colored contacts, his golden eyes were cloudy with exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll clean out that bedroom while you are gone.” He grumbled while burying his face back into the pillow. MC backed away from the couch and grabbed her car keys. “See you later Saeran!” She called out as she left the apartment.

MC made her way down to the lobby, the lady at the front desk waved at her to come over. “Miss MC… Is that man from last night someone you know?” The woman asked. “Yeah he’s my friend. His brother kicked him out after a fight they had so, he’s going to be living with me for a while. Can you give him a key to the apartment if he comes down here?” MC explained briefly for her. The woman nodded and went back to typing on her computer. She left the building and went to go get into her car. MC’s phone rang, it was Yoosung calling. “Hey MC! Are you on your way?” The boy asked, both tired and excited. “Yeah, Yoosung I’m on my way. I’m meeting you at the university library, right?” MC asked while starting the vehicle. “Yup! I’ll meet you in the parking lot!” Yoosung said before hanging up the phone. MC laughed softly at the guy’s enthusiasm. He hadn’t been motivated in school before everyone in the RFA helped get him away from LOLOL.

It took about 15 minutes to get to Sky University from MC’s apartment building. She carefully pulled into the parking lot and looked around for the blonde she was supposed to be meeting. Yoosung saw her first, waving like a madman while she walked up to him. He had cut his hair after the first RFA party, so it was short. He also got glasses after some sort of injury to one of his eyes, the red frames fit his face nicely; they made him look older. “MC! Hey!” Yoosung called out happily. MC waved and skipped over to her friend. The boy hugged her and pulled her towards the library. “I only have an hour before classes start so we have to hurry.” Yoosung laughed a little before running his hand through his short hair. They made it to the library and Yoosung lead MC to a table where he had already set up his books.

MC helped Yoosung study for the hour before his classes. He had thanked her so many times, promising to find a way to pay her back for the help. MC walked back to her car, watching the college students file into their buildings. MC went to college before joining the RFA, she couldn’t remember what degree she got though. MC got into her car and drove over to Jaehee’s café. It was small but, popular because of the area it was in. The café was coincidently near C&R, Jumin Han’s workplace. Most of the people that went to Jaehee’s café knew her when she was working as his chief assistant. “MC! Hey!’ The woman said happily when she saw MC walk in. MC waved and gave a quick hug to Jaehee. “The apron is in the back; can you handle the register?” Jaehee asked. “Yeah no problem!” MC happily tied the apron around her waist and took her usual spot at the register.

Jaehee closed the shop for a quick lunch break. “So, what’s new? You look tired.” Jaehee asked MC while making a sandwich for them. “Oh, nothing really. Saeran is living with me right now.” MC sighed and stretched. “I thought he was living with Seven?” Jaehee brought their food over and sat down across from her best friend. MC shrugged and took a bite of the sandwich. “Yeah he did. I guess they got into an argument and Seven kicked him out. So, he called me and I’m letting him stay with me for a while.” MC smiled at Jaehee while explaining. Her friend nodded and took a sip of her water. “I wonder what they fought about… So, are you two on good terms now?” Jaehee asked. MC nodded and kept eating. “Yeah we are. We go and grab ice cream on the weekends at that little shop near the park.” MC smiled, getting ice cream with Saeran was one of her favorite things to do. Jaehee smiled at her best friend. Saeran wasn’t her favorite person in the world but, she could tell that MC enjoyed hanging out with him.

They continued to chatter about little things while they ate. After lunch, Jaehee opened the café up again. MC hugged her best friend and said her goodbye’s, she had to run over to C&R. Jumin called and needed help with something, probably having to do with Elizabeth again. MC walked over to the tall office building, waving at the secretary in the lobby. “Here to see Mr. Han?” the woman asked quickly. “Yeah, is he in his office?” MC asked. The woman nodded and pushed a button to let Jumin know that she was at the office. MC walked to his office, politely saying “Hi” to anyone that recognized her. She knocked on Jumin’s office and waited for him to let her in. MC heard a gruff “Come in.” so, she walked into the office.

“MC… I need your help!” Jumin said as she sat in front of him. “With?” MC asked. “Elizabeth isn’t eating! I tried to call Yoosung since he is studying to become a veterinarian but, he didn’t answer.” Jumin looked worried. MC sighed and laughed. “Yoosung is in class, Jumin. She might just be getting too much food or she doesn’t want to eat right now?” MC tried to offer suggestions. Jumin tugged at his tie and thought for a moment. “Yes… I suppose you are right.” He muttered while eyeing the papers on his desk. “If she doesn’t eat then just take her to a vet that’s in town.” MC shrugged and gave a small smile. Jumin nodded and started signing documents. “Thank you for your help MC, I appreciate it.” He thanked her quickly before getting absorbed in his documents. “Call me if you still need help. I’ll get going now.” He grunted an answer and MC took that as her cue to leave. She left C&R and walked back to Jaehee’s café.

“I’m going to go help out Zen, can I bring him some coffee or something?” MC asked her friend. Jaehee smiled brightly and made the coffee that Zen usually orders whenever he stops by. “Here. Tell him I said hello!” Jaehee smiled. MC laughed and patted Jaehee on the back. “Of course. See you later!” MC left the café, two coffees in her hands. She walked out to her car and set the drinks on the hood. MC pulled out her phone and called the silver haired actor. “Hey babe, are you on your way?” He asked. “Yeah! How did you know?” MC laughed at Zen. He was a great guy to be around, once you got past the narcissism. “I read your mind!” Zen laughed from the other end of the call. “Dork. I’ll be there in half an hour, I’m coming from Jaehee’s café with coffee.” MC smiled and hung up before he could answer. She got a text from the actor.

Zen: Babe I’m supposed to hang up first! MC: Oops, beat you to it! Lol

MC got in her car and drove to Zen’s house. It was slightly underground, but it was a nice place; it fit Zen. MC parked and grabbed both drinks before walking up to his door. She kicked it a few times to let Zen know that she was at the door. A few seconds later, the actor opened the door and took a coffee from her hands. “Hey babe.” He grinned and let her inside. They both sat down on his couch and drank their coffee. “So… Guess who is living with me.” MC smiled at the thought of Saeran on her couch this morning. His white hair was all messed up and his eyes were breathtaking, with and without the contacts in. “WHO?” Zen suddenly shouted, snapping MC out of her thoughts.

MC blushed and laughed while muttering Saeran’s name. Zen’s complexion dropped five shades, he looked like he had saw a ghost. “Relax, its temporary. Seven kicked him out so I’m helping him out. He’s sleeping on the couch until I can get the guest room cleaned out.” MC giggled at Zen’s expression. “All men are wolves MC! You can’t let him into your room!” Zen started nagging MC. She couldn’t help but laugh, he did this all the time if she mentioned that she was alone with any of the other male members in the RFA. Zen gave up his nagging after a while and laughed with MC. “Saeran isn’t all that bad Zen. We go out and grab ice cream almost every weekend. He seems happy whenever we do.” MC smiled when she thought of Saeran smiling. He had a lovely smile, but he never did it often. “Really? Is that why you don’t hang out with me anymore?” Zen feigned jealousy, hugging MC close to his chest. She laughed again and hugged the actor back. “Yes Zenny, I’m replacing our friendship for him.” MC said sarcastically, using the old nickname she had for Zen.

They continued laughing and joking around for hours. Time flew by whenever MC was with Zen, he knew how to make just a simple hangout last for hours without it getting boring. MC felt her phone buzz with a text; she pulled out her phone and read who it was from.

Saeran: Hey I got that room cleaned out. It didn’t take long… I slept most of the day away MC: Woah thanks! I’ll help you get the room set up when I get home, I’m about to leave Zen’s place, I hung out with him for a few hours after helping Yoosung and Jaehee. Saeran: Sweet. I’m going to grab something to eat. I can get back into the building if I leave, right? MC: Yeah, I told the lady at the front desk to give you a key to the apartment already. Saeran: Thanks. See you later

MC smiled at the boy’s texts. He was nice when he wanted to be. It was a shame that Mint Eye got to him. MC wasn’t happy with Seven for kicking his brother out either. I should call Seven soon to find out why he kicked Saeran out. MC thought. Zen looked at his friend and bumped her shoulder with his own. “Gotta get going soon?” He asked. MC nodded and hugged the actor one more time. “I’ll try to visit more often, I promise.” MC smiled and grabbed her bag. Zen walked her out and waved as she got into her car. She grabbed her phone and dialed Seven’s number.

After about two rings, he picked up. “Hey MC. What’s up?” He asked. “Why did you kick Saeran out? He’s living with me right now. He seems more broken than ever.” MC wasn’t happy with the hacker. “We fought. That’s all you need to worry about.” Seven snapped at her. “It is something I have to worry about because your brother looks like he could cry at the mention of your name. What the fuck were you thinking when you kicked him out?” MC tried to control her irritation. It didn’t work out well. “I don’t want to talk about it MC. If you are so concerned, why don’t you just get answers out of him. I’m not the asshole here.” MC could tell that Seven was pissed off, she didn’t care. “You are the asshole here because you kicked out your brother when he’s having a hard time! Do you even care about that?” MC shifted the phone so that she could hold it with her shoulder while she drove home. “I do care! He just doesn’t appreciate it!” Seven yelled. MC winced and sighed. “You are just blinded by something Seven. Until you can see that you are also at fault here, Saeran will be living with me. Don’t hack into the cameras to watch him or me. Just think about things, alright?” MC snapped slightly as she pulled into her usual parking spot.

“Whatever.” Was all Seven said as he hung up. MC groaned and rested her head on the steering wheel. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Saeran. He didn’t have his usual black jacket on or his choker. He was wearing a baggy hoodie with some ripped jeans. His mint colored contacts weren’t in either, his natural golden eyes looked somewhat happy. I don’t think I’ve seen him look so relaxed… MC thought as she watched him walk into the apartment building. MC sighed and got out of her car. She walked up to the building and saw Saeran waiting for her in the lobby.

“I recognized your car…” Saeran muttered while looking at the floor. MC smiled and blushed. “I was about to walk in but, you looked so different so I just sat there watching.” She laughed while walking towards the stairs. Saeran smiled and followed her. They both chattered about their days while walking up to the apartment.

“Did you eat? I can cook if you’d like.” Saeran asked while opening the door for her. “Yeah that would be nice.”  MC smiled and set her stuff down once she got inside. She didn’t know Saeran could cook. “I didn’t know that you cooked.” She said while taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “Yeah I can. Something Rika taught me how to do.” He said while rooting around for things to cook with.

Saeran cooked for them both and they ate in silence. MC was shocked, he could cook well, way better than what she could. “This was great, thank you.” MC smiled and went to wash her plate off. Saeran finished shortly after and washed his dish off as well. They went to the guest bedroom and MC started setting up the bed. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” Saeran mumbled while he unpacked his duffle bag. MC shrugged and smiled at him. “It’s not a problem. It was getting lonely here anyways. The company is appreciated.” She said. They finished setting up the room and Saeran looked at MC. Golden eyes met hazel, and MC blushed. “I-I should get to bed. It’s been a long day.” She laughed nervously while exiting the room. Saeran nodded and closed the door once she left.

MC’s heart was racing. She had only been friends with him for a day, is she already getting feelings for him? No, that was ridiculous, she couldn’t be… right? MC sighed and got ready for bed. She climbed into it and buried her face into her pillow. Saeran was incredibly nice, though he did have some issues, those didn’t matter. He was soft at heart; his cold exterior just hid that. MC was exhausted, she fell asleep while thinking of the white-haired boy in the guest room of her apartment.