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hobiwonder · 4 years

Text

mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”.

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important.

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store.

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it.

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

“Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You: Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating.

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant.

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it.

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel.

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment.

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches.

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way.

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs.

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him.

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult.

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more.

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.”

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment.

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again.

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy.

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire.

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal.

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?”

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly.

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own.

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes.

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it.

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off.

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat.

“Yeah?”

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you.

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain.

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first.

“Get up.”

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides.

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture.

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?”

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard. Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans. Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well.

“N-No?”

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.”

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold.

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome, glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to. He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely.

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.”

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this.

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him.

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too.

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars.

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.”

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him.

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don’t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now.

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours.

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.”

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release. Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it.

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing.

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #hope u like it!!!

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quirkyhero · 3 years

Text

My OchaCow headcanons

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BACKSTORY AND BACKGROUND:

Cow Ochaku: is a wild thang who is a strong heifer as well as adventurous. She was born and raised in an abusive habitat only ment to breed strong bulls for fighting rings. She's been through some shit, and learned to not take some shit because of it.

Cow Ochaku: this gal was raised and taught that she would breed with bulls when she was old enough to mate, she would be forced to submit to bulls for as long as she could and as long as they would need. She remembered being forced to "watch and learn" of what would be happening when she be came old enough to do the same thing. And them, doing things to her in order for her to get the "hands on process".

Cow Ochaku: by the age of 15 she had thankfully managed to escape thanks to her parents and the instructions they left her. Though sadly she was too weak and had no time to save any others. On her own she ran as far as she could, hiding in the city in always with a black hoodie and sweat pants she stolen from a box.

Cow Ochaku: thankfully enough she was found by a kind human who was kind enough to offer her home and shelter. Seeing as she was starving and cold and fucking exhausted, she took the humans offer, still suspicious of this person not sure weather to trust them or not.

Cow Ochaku: this was of course six years ago, and she had come to love her home with trees and forest surrounding the place. There was two male hybrids that lived beside her, their names are Monama, who's a bull and Kouda who'san ox. Monama, while a bit rude at first and Kouda who was pretty shy and skittish around her. Came to be protective of her over the years, now their all pretty close and good friends.

Cow Ochaku: after a long time of healing and bonding, she came to open up with her human farmers and two male friends. She even worked out and lifted logs and other such heavy things, which in turn gained her muscle. She also became quite the fan of martial arts due to the movies they'd watch together, learning new techniques along with the old farmer and their grandkid that was the same age as she.

Cow Ochaku: she had also come in contact with the internet. . .you can see where this is going. As she grew into a strong young lady, she came to also be comfortable with sex. . . That is to say with bottom boys. She absolutely loved her Monama and Kouda who she helped out with their ruts and explored new things (kinks) and the such together.

Cow Ochaku: threw a family doctor, who is a friend of the farmer had come to the conclusion that she may be infertile, and there was only a low chance of her having her own calf. This to her and the others was heartbreaking news, but nonetheless she still clung to hope that she would have her own calf one day. She was just relieved that the others didn't think less of her like the heifers back at the bad place would have done.

HOW SHE IS WHEN SHE GETS TO THE NEW FARM + WITH THE BULLS , HEIFERS , STAFF AND EVEN CALFS!?:

Cow Ochaku: was excited yet nervous to go on a trip to the new farm she, the bull and ox will be staying at for a year for her farmer friend that's going to be there for a study work trip.

Cow Ochaku: on one hand, she could finally make that bull harem she wanted. But on the other hand there would be thousands of new faces and in an environment thats a little similar to the bad place. In a sense that's there's quite alot of her kind there. But with the reasurement of the old farmer, the two boys and her calmed a bit.

Cow Ochaku: once on the farm and out of the moving vehicle. Ocha(Ochako), Mono(Monama) and Ko(Kouda) all went to explore once everything was signed in and registered. Only for Mono and Ocha to get whistled at and cat called by the bulls. Mono wasn't exactly the standard looking bull with him being smaller and more feminine looking with smaller horns, he was mistaken for a heifer quite alot. So them both being cat called was not a surprise.

Cow Ochaku: Kouda on the other hand, was being ogled at by the heifers that was curious about the newcomers. Kouda is pretty big, after all he is an ox, he's actually almost the same height as Kirishima, and poor baby was sticking very close behind his heifer and bull friend, not really liking the attention.

Cow Ochaku: meanwhile Ocha paid no mind to the ogling and cat calls, she was looking at the bulls that came to look at her and her friend. Debating and thinking of who she would start her "Bull Harem" plan on first.

Cow Ochaku: along they're walk they bump into a charming cowboy named Midoriya Izuku and a handsome bull named Kirishima, both kind and cute and sexy in they're own rights. . . Ocha came to terms with the idea of adding the cowboy to her bull harem plan, and let her mind run a little thinking of ways to ruin him for only a moment as to not be rude.

Cow Ochaku: after that meeting she came to see at one point, cute Little CALFS!!! OH MY GOODNESS! Ocha decided that this farm was fucking amazing. After all, it came with plenty of bulls and cute farmers for her Bull Harem plan. The staff were pretty great and there are even cute little Calfs here to watch and play with if she's aloud.

SOME EXTRA DETAILS ON COW OCHAKO:

Cow Ochaku: is a lover and fighter, this as I said came for her difficult past and trauma as well as her new beginning on her home land where she met her boys and humans. So she can be pretty intense, as well as straight forward.

Sometimes she scares the bulls with her strength and stamina, alot of them can't keep up with her during her exploration in the hay. The ones who can keep up with her are kiri and Bakugou, but even they sometimes fall victim to her brutal pace which earns her some heavy respect in their books.

Cow Ochaku: she absolutely adores sparring. At first the bulls wouldn't train with her because, "she's a heifer, she'll just get hurt" which seriously pissed her off. That is until a Bull who was messing with one of the heifers took things too far for her liking got take down by her just grabbing his horn with one hand and slamming the big bull down with just sweeping his leg out from under him and Basically making him face plant down onto the ground.

She Basically forced oversized "calf" to apologize to the heifer, and better not do that shit again. Bakugou who Basically went from not impressed and only intrigued to Having mad respect for her and now wants this woman in his harem, though he ain't the only one.

Cow Ochaku: poor baby still at times has nightmares about the bad place and will sneak into the living quarters of either of her boys or into her human friends room, or just brings all three of them to her own living quarters to cuddle and sleep together. If anything this is something her and Bakugou bond over, since he was a rescue bull from a pretty harsh place and she ran away from a bad place.

One night he just caught her awake early in the morning breathing in the cold air, with a melancholy look upon her usually smiling face. While it's a sad thing to bond about they do bond over it, and it brings them closer.

Cow Ochaku: she's love mochi treats, the kind that the old farmer made specially for hybrids. If you found a way to make them she will be your godamn best friend! Speaking of friends while she can make easy friends with any gendered human, she's not really good with other heifers for some reason. She just. . .feels nervous and a bit off around them

It could be because she has no idea on how to add the heifers in her bull harem plan, as well as the fact that she's not really. . . On the same wavelength of thinking as them at times??? Basically she wants to dominate the bulls while they want to be fucked submissive by them.

She wants to trust Said bull before EVER fucking them, while all it takes is the bull to show off how strong he is to get them wet and ready. She doesn't care for being treated frail and being taken care of while she can take care of her self. She would adore being taken care of twenty for seven by their strong bull. . .she just doesn't get them. . .at all really nonetheless she tries. . . She really tries.

Cow Ochaku: loves giving advice to the bulls about sex techniques and telling them about human sex toys. If she's close to a bull, she teach them some human tricks that she learned while surfing, "the web." She'll also be a babysitter for the heifers and bulls that want alone time at a specific moment so they can get they're grove on if you know what I mean?

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I did my own version of an Ochako Cow! I'm pretty proud of my drawings as well as how I made her! I based her on @miggiisdumb 's Bull/Cow AU cause I'm heavily obsessed with the godamn AU and her writing, please go check out her stuff as well as art cause it's fantastic.

I'm also gonna tag @headkandies in here cause they make pretty good headcanons as well as being a fellow lover of this AU!

But anyways that's all folks be safe and have a Heroic Day! Since it's not safe out there please take a mochi loving Ochacow on your way. 🥰

#Cow Uraraka #bnha headcanons #my things #uraraka headcanons #bnha #mha

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

More prompts? Can I get number 16 with Claude? I'm interested how that would turn out?! Your writing is simply amazing 🤩

Interesting indeed. This prompt doesn’t seem very much like him, but I tried my best.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping

Prompt 16: “You don’t understand! If you accept me now, I’ll be your slave!”

You stood there, blinking confused at him. You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again. You had no idea what to say, your mind having went kind of blank. But you couldn’t blame yourself for this. After all Claude’s confession was very much to take in.

You had known him for probably five months by now, having met him first when you had accidentally hurt yourself on one of your trips through the village and he had helped you back then to bandage your wound. After that you had discovered him following you nearly everywhere you went. After some time you had decided to confront him about this and were quick to tell him he might just as well spend time with you instead of trailing behind you like a creep. He had been clearly surprised at your offer, but he had accepted and like this a bond had blossomed between the two of you. But the more time you had spent with him the more you had started to get suspicious. He was...way too perfect. You had seen some people who were masters in their jobs, but nobody was able to do everything! But Claude was able to do anything perfectly. You had also once witnessed the strange symbol on his hand, wondering about what that exactly was. You knew some people who were known to know some pretty creepy stuff and had decided to ask them for help and to your surprise they had given you some books that looked like they would fall apart at any moment, allowing you to read through them. You read some fascinating stuff in that, but you had nearly chocked when you had found a symbol similar to the one on Claude’s hand in it with a description under that this was a contract sign demons used when they made a deal with a human. They would fulfill the wish the human made to them and until that goal was reached they would serve and protect the human and would get as a reward for their services the human’s soul, after the condition was fulfilled. At first you had laughed at this, finding it ridiculously. Demons? Seriously? Who believed in stuff like this these days? But the more you watched him, the more you noticed that there was no way he could be human.

At some point you had told him your suspicions, being ready to get laughed at and receive a logical answer to all of this, but instead he had just admitted it and to prove it he had showed you his demon eyes. At first you had been shocked, but then you had started to get curious, wanting to know more about his kind and other magical creatures. Normal people should have been scared when finding out that their friend sucks out souls, but you weren’t. When he had asked you why you had just simply answered him that you weren’t scared of death.You had never been shocked about his abilities or what he was capable of, finding all of it very interesting.

But now you were standing here, staring irritated at the golden eyed man, not really getting what he had just told you. He had admitted that he had fallen in love with you, wanting you to form a contract with him so he could ensure that you would become his mate. He was still standing before you, waiting for your answer with a slight impatient look on his face. You gulped, feeling a bit bad for rejecting him like this, but you just didn’t believe him. He was after all still a demon. And he had told you himself that demons weren’t able to love, they only lusted. You scratched your head and gave him an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” Claude raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why?”, he asked you, slight confusion audible in his voice. “How can I believe you that you love me when you were the one who told me a few months ago that demons only feel lust. If you want my soul that badly you could just take it, I wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against you. Why going through all this troubles and lying to me? By the way, aren’t you already in a contract? What is with this boy, Alois? Shouldn’t you focus on him instead of offering me a contract?” Claude looked at you for a moment before replying:”If Alois is the problem then I can get rid of him.” “What? No! That would be just cruel. This boy made a contract with you and it’s your job to serve him until the condition is fulfilled. And even if you wouldn’t be in any contract with someone else, I would still refuse. I already told you you don’t have to lie to me and tell me you love me. If you want my soul just take it, but don’t lie to me. You shouldn’t tell someone that you love them only to trick them into something. That’s unacceptable.”

Claude was normally someone very calm and composed, never really showing his feelings, simply because he hadn’t much of them anyways, but now he felt a feeling pumping through his veins that he had never felt in his life before. Desperation for someone’s love. Your love. It was true, he had told you that demons weren’t able to love. He had known at that time that this wasn’t completely true. There had been cases where a demon had fallen in love with someone else, but that had happened less than ten times in the long history of demons and since he hadn’t believed in that stuff at that time he had just decided to not mention it. But how could have he expected that he himself would fall in love? What you said was true, demons normally only lusted and at first he had been only interested in your soul, but the more time he had spent with you, the more he had started to love everything about you. Your eyes that always sparkled with happiness, your hair that always shined in the sun, your scent that he could only describe as addictive and your personality that was just glowing with innocence and joy. You had never shown any sign of hatred against others and were always ready to help in any way you could. You also just accepted whatever you got and were thankful for the things you had.

“I understand why you think that, but please believe me, I really love you.”, he tried to convince you, feeling slight frustration growing inside of him. Damn it! He shouldn’t have been so stupid and told you that demons couldn’t feel love. You looked him in the eyes, searching for some kind of emotion in it. You knew that Claude was talented in lying, but there was one part that could never lie. The eyes. The eyes always showed what was going on in a person. If you would find something you would believe him. For a few moments it became quiet and you just stared at him with an intense gaze. And to your surprise you found something swirling in his golden eyes, an emotion that you had never seen on him before. Desperation. Claude was desperate, but was that enough to make you believe him? “Let’s assume that what you say is true and you do really love me,”, you started and didn’t miss how Claude tensed slightly up, paying all of his attention to you,”what would happen then? I mean, you’re a demon and I’m a human, wouldn’t I just die some day and you would continue to live?” Claude answered you quickly:”You don’t need to worry about that. There are ways for me to bind our life span together. Like this you would never age. Just imagine it, staying forever young.” He obviously wanted to convince you with this, but it had the completely opposite effect on you. You felt horrified. Living forever? It sounded more like torture than a gift for you. But you decided to continue your questions. “Will I become a demon as well when you do that?” Claude seemed a bit unsure, he didn’t really know that what was kind of frustrating, but it had happened only one time that a demon had binded his life span together with another person so he could only guess what would happen. “I suppose not. Only because our life spans would be binded together doesn’t mean you’ll become a demon.” “What about other demons? Would they try to kill me when they find out about me? And what will happen after you finished your contract with Alois?” You asked a lot of questions, but Claude couldn’t blame you. So he answered:”I would never let you get killed by another demon and I wasn’t planning on letting you near another demon anyways. Normally demons would get back to hell after finishing their contract, but I would stay with you then and let you decide where you want to go.”

You bit your bottom lip, he did sound sincere and the look in his eyes looked sincere as well. Now you felt even worse. “I-I’m sorry Claude, but I’m afraid that I still have to refuse.” Now Claude wasn’t able to hide the shocked expression on his face. “But why?! I can give you anything you want! Tell me what I have to do to convince you! I’ll do anything!” Even he was surprised by the desperation in his voice. He normally wasn’t like this, but it was so rare for demons to find love and the thought of you not wanting him or wanting to go in a contract with him stirred up fear in him he had never thought he could feel. “Claude...I’m happy with my life. I know that you’re the butler of a noble and probably don’t know it any better. You probably think that every human wants something material, but not me. I’m satisfied with what I got and my dream is it to just live a normal life.” Claude was completely speechless, looking around in your small and old house. You were satisfied with this when he could give you so much more?!

“If you don’t have anything more to say, I’ll go now.”, you told him and were about to leave through the door, but suddenly Claude grabbed you. You screamed surprised and looked at him. You were shocked when you saw the desperation and panic in his eyes. You had never seen him showing that much emotions before. “You don’t understand! If you accept me now, I’ll be your slave!” His voice was overflowing with desperation and a pained expression had made it’s way on his face. You were stunned at this, but not nearly as much as Claude. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting like this? He couldn’t find an answer to this, he only knew that his feelings were a pure chaos, swirling around like a storm inside of him. He couldn’t form a contract with you when you didn’t want to. But he needed to in order to be able to make you his mate. You seemed to don’t understand how much he needed you!! “Claude! That’s the last thing that I would want in a partner!”, you yelled at him. “Just accept it! I don’t want to be with you! I don’t even see you in that way!”

As soon as these words passed your lips the air suddenly turned heavy. “Uhh...” You slowly looked up at Claude and shrieked when you saw his glowing pink eyes. “C-Claude! Stop it! You’re scaring me!”, you cried out, hoping he would come back to his senses. But he just stared at you with a dark look in his eyes. “If I can’t convince you willingly then I’ll force you.”, he said in a serious voice. You started shaking. You had never been scared of Claude, but now you were. His aura had suddenly turned so sinister. “No!! Let go of me!! I don’t want to!!” The next moment you felt something hitting you in the back of your neck. Everything started to turn blurry all of a sudden and the last thing you managed to do was giving Claude a disappointed look. “W-why?” That was your last word before you passed out. Claude lifted you carefully up in his arms. He hadn’t really wanted to use this method on you, but you had given him no other choice. He would find a way to make you go into a contract with him, even if it meant breaking you! He had never felt such strong emotions before and wondered if all the other demons who had fallen in love had felt it that intense as well. But one thing he knew for sure, he would never let you go! Demons mated for life.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere claude #yandere claude faustus

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todourouki · 4 years

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Bakugo (1)

a mini series | chapter ONE

✰ I’m finally posting a bakugo mini fic and I don’t think y’all understand just how fucking excited I am for this WHEW anyways yea I think I can post part two in a few hours <3 wanting after this it’s literally just sex and irdc xox enjoy

btw y’all see the gif I made? ain’t it mad cute? ugh i’m soft for this bozo

PAIRING bakugo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT 3.0k

WARNINGS cursing

✎ 2 | ✎ 3 | ✎ 4 | ✎ 5

The office was a generally quiet area. That's how pro-hero Ground Zero liked it. There was always calm, instrumental music playing in the back with everyone dressed in their dark hero outfits in contrast to the complete set up of the office. Anyone hardly ever spoke, compensating for the loud yelling done by the blond man every day in his office.

At lunch, everyone ate the same food and sat with the same people, all returned to their same boring desks and always had the same looks on their face. Everyone enjoyed it, which would be hard to tell if anyone who wasn't a worker there looked from the outside. Bakugo loved the dynamic of his office, he enjoyed the consistency.

That was, until you arrived.

You had been recommended by no one other than the number one hero of his time, All-Might, so Bakugo really felt he had no choice but to take you on. He had never heard of you before— only knowing you were in freshly graduated from U.A about two years prior in class 1-A and he was a bit impressed as he read through your file given to him by the retired-hero.

Y/L/N, Y/N

19 | December 16th

Quirk: Mutation (can look at anyone and quickly mutate into them for max 30 minutes, including their quirk)

Strongest Qualities: Witty, Strong-Willed, Truthful, Punctual, Confident

Weakest Qualities: Quick-Tempered, Defiant, might have a bit of a Superiority Complex, Lazy

The minute he accepted you into his office, he instantly regret it.

You walked in with a smile that was probably a bit too bright for his liking. Your outfit consisted of a black, skin tight body suit with the zipper hanging dangerously low. It resembled the one of that one air headed girl from Shiketsu High from the practical Bakugo participated in. Your curly, voluptuous hair cascaded down your scalp, curly bangs covering some of your forehead. Your long, shiny boots went up to your thighs as you walked with so much confidence, it made him think back to the years he was in UA (which was really only like 4 years ago. He was 22).

He watched as you walked in, hands behind your back as each step made almost close to no noise. The minute you opened your mouth to make a comment about how boring every thing was around you, Bakugo decided he hated you.

It wasn't as if he would ever fire you. He couldn't. You were an amazing hero, and you did your job really well. You mastered your quirk, being able to transform back and forth quickly within the blink of an eye. You mastered stealth, played your role, and were never late to work.

His only real problem with you, was when you weren't on your outside patrols and doing outside work. Outside the office, Bakugo almost loved how good you were at your job. Inside, though? He absolutely despised you. You knew it too.

You'd do things to purposely get him riled up; always walking too slow for his liking to meetings, always being defiant during those same meetings, always sitting with your legs on top of your desk and your body leaned back against the chair as you read a magazine instead of doing actual work, always doing things he despised.

Don't get him started on your appearance either. The body suits never changed, yet they were always some different color. You had the ability to change the color whenever you wanted to on a switch designed specially to help with your stealth, and you used it on purpose.

You knew he hated the bright colors, he hated how you walked back and forth across his office in order to make him glance at the bright, fruitful colors with a smirk on your face. You knew Bakugo would never fire you— you were too damn good at your job for him to even consider it. Today, you found yourself sporting the black version of your body-suit though, wanting to give the man a break before he popped a vessel.

Everyone in the office admired you, slowly doing things like having colored flowers on their desks, or having a bit more fun at work. Bakugo noticed but never said anything.

With that, you found yourself dragging in the bag of papers you had just retrieved from some villains on the parts of town that belonged to Bakugo and his team. You smiled at everyone, politely responding to their greetings and making your way to the door of the man you loved speaking to the most. You weren't sure if it was the anger, the bickering, or the looks he gave you, but he was a very attractive man. There was no denying that. Getting him riled up was your favorite thing to do at work, honestly speaking.

You knocked on his door, hearing his groggy voice tell you to come in. The large black door opened as you pushed it, closing it once you got in and marching over to his large glass desk.

He sat there, hands behind his head as his feet were crossed across the desk and his face screamed I hate being a hero and I'm really stressed. He sat in his hero outfit, all the accessories thrown against the desk as he looked at you waiting for you to speak.

"I got the plans from that one villain hideout on 43rd. It was in this really gross building. I should be payed extra for having to dirty my suit like that." You joked, tossing the bag on the desk and wiping the imaginary dirt off your covered stomach. Bakugo grabbed the bag, looking through it and tossing it back onto the desk.

"Good, get back to work." He simply said, tiredly looking out the floor to ceiling windows across from you. You raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on your hip expectedly.

"What? No smart remark?" You questioned. He looked at you with his crimson red eyes beginning to narrow.

"I don't have time for that today, [y/l/n]." The sophistication made your nose scrunch, moving some things off his desk and propping you butt right into it.

Bakugo stared at you in disbelief, taking his legs off the desk as he stared at you with anger beginning to rise against his cheeks. Bingo.

“Get your ass off your boss's desk." He growled, making you laugh and turn your legs all the way over. They were now facing him, your entire body sitting across from his as he inched his chair back.

This wasn't the first time you had done this, honestly you knew how much he hated it which is exactly why you did it so much. You also knew he really wouldn't stop you from sitting there. It was a thing the both of you had, just like the bickering.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What's up your ass today?" Your voice was blunt, looking at your manicured hands in front of you and playing with the acrylic white tips in disinterest.

“The fact that you have no respect for your superiors." He grumbled, rolling his chair beside you and beginning to read some of the papers.

His arms were terribly close to your thighs, and you almost had to physically punch yourself to stop thinking about what it would be like if he placed a hand on top of them. You both couldn't do that, you knew how much you despised the man and you knew just how much he hated you.

“You're so fucking boring." You stated, hopping off the desk and strutting your way to the window. Bakugo ignored your, clenching the pen in his hand with more force as he sighed deeply and stood quiet.

This bothered you. There was nothing you hated more than being ignored, and you knew that he knew that you hated that.

“I said," you spoke through gritted teeth, marching over to the desk and gripping the glass with your fingers, "You're, so, fucking, boring." Each word seethed through your teeth as your irritation grew.

“Can you stop being such a fucking attention-seeking bitch and understand that I don't have time for your shit today?" Bakugo retaliated with sarcasm laced in his tone.

He lifted his head to stare at you, both your eyes filled with an immense amount of hatred that made your chest heave. This is how every conversation between the two of you went. You'd walk in, a purposely happy mood to get on his nerves, him having a shitty attitude over whatever minuscule thing happened to him, and both of you having a two lined conversation before starting to bicker harshly. Your eyes never left his, the grip on the glass hardening as you furrowed you're freshly done eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out of my office." Your boss spat, making you scoff at his words.

“You think I want to be in here?" You asked, not once breaking eye contact with the blond man. "I just want to know why the dude that signs my checks has a fucking stick up his ass—"

“That's enough!" Bakugo yelled, slamming his hand against the glass and hearing it even slightly crack.

This caused you to flinch, a scowl appearing on your face. This was the exact end you predicted. You got on his nerves or he got on yours, you'd both come at each other's throats, then you'd leave in a huff. Same thing, different day.

You stood quiet, letting go of the desk and snorting, mumbling the word fucking asshole under your breath as you turned around and walked out the door. Today bothered you more for some reason.

You weren't sure if it was the aggressive way he hit the desk that bothered you or if it was the problems you were going through back in your apartment with a certain man you wouldn't want to think about right now, but whatever it was really pissed you off.

You made sure to slam the door on your way out, walking over to the elevator and going back to the main floor where everyone else from your department was located. On the way, you passed his secretary who always gave you a sneer when you'd come out his office.

You knew, as well as every other damn person that worked for that asshole, that she had some weird obsession with the man. She also had some weird obsession with the idea of you and him sleeping together.

“You should really respect your superiors, [Y/N]." She made sure to put a disgusting emphasis on your name while you waited for the stupid, excruciatingly slow elevator to get to your floor.

“You should really suck my dick, Lui." You retaliated. You were staring at her with your arms crossed against your chest and a smirk playing on your lips.

It wasn't until you turned around that you heard another voice just had to butt in. He just had to speak when he wasn't being spoken to. The elevator finally reached the floor, yet before the doors opened, you heard him call out to you.

“[Y/N], you should really respect Lui," his voice was smug, staring at you with the same crossed arm pose as he leaned against his open door, "she is your superior after all."

You did nothing but glare at him, letting the doors close on your angry face and finally going back down to where you belonged.

✰.

Around two hours later, you found yourself shuffling papers around your desk. It had been a while since you organized it and you thought now that you had nothing to do (and by nothing, you meant having assignments you just didn't feel like doing), now would be the perfect time to do it.

As soon as you started to get in the groove, you heard your phone on the desk buzz and you just knew who it was. With an attitude, you picked up the phone, twirling the cord with your nails.

“Mr. Bakugo would like to see you." Lui sneered, making you roll your eyes and hang up. Mr. Bakugo? Get a fucking grip, you thought to yourself as you made your way to the man's office.

✰.

Ignoring Lui's orders to not walk in without knocking, you shoved the door open and walked inside the man's cold, exposed office. In front of you was a shirtless Bakugo, standing with tailors at his sides as he tried on different shirts.

You gulped, trying your hardest to not stare as you started to play with your nails. It was something you always did to make sure you didn't give the blond any confidence points. He didn't need to know how attractive he looked more than he probably does.

“[Y/N]." His blank tone made you hum in response, waiting for him to continue.

“Look at me when I speak to you." Fuck.

Your eyes rolled, maintaining your composure and looking up at the man that was now buttoning up a crimson red button up shirt that fit him spectacularly.

Your eyes roamed down to his chest for a second, studying the exposed skin before he covered it back up. The man took no notice of your wandering eyes, finally meeting your eyes and clearing his throat.

“There's a Gala in downtown Tokyo tonight. Can I count on you to attend with me?" He questioned darkly. You glared at him, still mad at what he had said to you but huffing in defeat.

You knew this day was coming. You knew you had to go with him to this stupid gala because there were most likely going to be some of the highest paid criminals around and you knew it had to do with the case you were currently working on.

And even if you just wanted to go home after work and take a fucking break from having a scowl on your face all day, you knew you didn't really have a choice.

“Yes."

Your blank response made him send the tailors towards you, beginning to take measures of your body for them. It wasn't until you had to physically stop them with your arms out.

“I actually have a dress of my own I plan on wearing, no need for all this." Your lips curved up to a smile as the men bowed in apology and went back to Bakugo.

The blond man stood quiet, letting you know to be ready by eight and to leave early if you felt it was necessary. An excuse to leave early? Of course you would take it.

✰.

You found yourself frantically fixing your make up while the time read 7:54. You didn't know it would take so much for your curly hair to come to an understanding with you, and with the way time was looking, you were in for an argument once Bakugou arrived downstairs.

He had informed you that he and his driver were going to pick you up so you could arrive together to remove any suspicion from the villains, and you honestly thought it was just an excuse for him to make sure you looked good enough for him.

After finally fixing the eyelash that was threatening to come off, you made sure you were set before reaching for the dress you had been dying to wear. It was an expensive piece, one gifted to you by a close friend that you had never come around to wearing.

It was a tight fitted, spaghetti strap, satin dress. It was a dark vermillion red with a runched up top that tighten against your breasts to lift them up.

It also had a beautiful simple back, only being connected by strings weaving in from side to side as if it were shoelaces. It went past your feet, dragging on the floor in an elegant way, and also had a slit running up landing precisely on your upper thigh.

It was beautiful, and even though it was probably going to be ruined somehow, it was something you were excited to wear.

You slipped on the garter first, a simple black material that tightened against the skin above the slit on your thigh. You shoved a covered knife in it, making sure to prepare for the worst of course.

Finally slipping the dress on, you realized you had absolutely no time to tie the strings in the back as you heard an obnoxious honking from outside your apartment complex, paired with your phone buzzing unbearably.

Without even answering it, you shoved your phone in between your breasts, and grabbed your small, black handbag that had some extra lipgloss, your wallet, and your will to leave since you know you might lose it tonight by spending it with your boss.

The ringing continued as you rolled your eyes and made sure your black strap heels were tight enough before spraying on some extra perfume and running out the door.

Your dress clung to your hand as you used your other to push through doors and scrunch your hair up. It wasn't long before you were finally outside, the honking ceasing as you finally reached the extremely long limousine. You had no time to gawk though, because soon enough the driver, Kari, opened the door for you.

“Apologizes on behalf of Mr. Bakugo, Mrs. [Y/L/N]. He will be meeting us at the location to ensure the safety of both of you." His voice rang through your ears as you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes at the man.

You got in the car with a smile, having it quickly drop as you furrowed your eyebrows and tried your hardest not to bite your lips. You weren't sitting in front of your small mirror for nothing. As the car drove off, you watched your apartment complex disappear and leaned back against the seat.

Made me rush my ass through my make-up just to not show up? What an asshole, you huffed in your seat, taking your phone out from your chest and glancing out the window some more.

✰

back to masterlist | next part

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taechaos · 3 years

Note

Idea series oc sneaking Tae in the house after he had big fight with his father about something (your choice if it's smutty or fluff or angsty) with a peek of a vurberable Tae? Honestly i think he would change the topic as soon as he started it and prob with sex.

Anyway I'm really interest in their family dynamic since I remember don't know if it was in part one or two that you mention they have really religious parents? And seeing how harsh their dad is with Taehyung it have me wondering how is his relationship with the mother and ocs with both parents, despite everything the seem really distant from their kids, maybe thats why Tae and YN find comfort in each other. OC is the first real bond Tae made with someone so maybe that's the reason of his fear of being replaced and his obsession with her, and ocs mother probably don't pay that much attention to her so that's why even after the incident she still want him to be there. At this point I'm just rambling I'm sorry. And this ask is all over the place, started with a request and ended questioning characters life 💀💀. Sorry hehe.

when i read this yesterday i was literally blown away by this like hOLY shit your analysis is so in-depth at first i was like damn do my characters have more than oNE DIMENSION?? WHICH IS RLY FLATTERING BUT I THINK ITS JUST UR WORDS THAT MADE ME SOUND SMART 💀💀💀 the ending is chef's kiss tho made me bust a lung SHFJJD thank you so much for taking the time to write this its honestly so fucking amazing. hopefully u can see more of their family dynamic in this drabble :)

Rays of sunlight slither through the cracks in the blinds of the living room, allowing Taehyung's father enough light to scan the newspaper he holds in his hand, with the musical, happy chirping of mockingbirds filling in the silence. All of these beautiful signs of nature and peaceful rotation of the earth makes Taehyung tense up even more.

The moment he got back home from buying drugs, his father greeted him in monotone with a, "would you sit with me for a moment?" and he hasn't spoken since. The zipperbag in his pocket crinkles every time he shifts in his seat, making him cringe momentarily before he starts nervously fidgeting again.

This is so awkward and yet equivalent to hearing: we need to talk. God, why is he so silent?

Clearing his throat, Taehyung stands just as his father flips a page with a lick of his thumb. "I'm going to my room really quick."

"No."

"Oh." When will his step-mother return? She's his only hope as he sits down while avoiding looking at his father, whose gaze is set on the black and white printed pages.

It's only a minute later when he talks without diverting his gaze.

"Your sister is in her room, researching her major to get a headstart on a typical syllabus."

"Smart," he comments with disinterest and nibbles on his upper lip.

"Taehyung, how was your attendance in college?" he folds the newspaper and curiously peeks at his son, who is doing a poor job at hiding his nerves.

"It was alright–"

"Lying is a sin, son," his movements are aristocratic when he leans his chin on his fist. "Don't lie."

"I'm not," he stammers and his eyes flicker, "it was bad at the beginning of the year, but I fixed it."

His father pinches the bridge of nose where his frames lie. "I love your sister, Taehyung," he sighs and takes off his glasses, "I want her to do well. I've given up on you, but her? She can accomplish great things if you're not there to influence her. You're a bad influence. Are you following me?"

Taehyung nods dumbly with a racing heart before registering his words and shaking his head. "What?" he blurts. "I used to help her with her homework all the time–"

"You were home once every month."

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't see her," he coldly says. That's not entirely accurate, but it is true that he saw you more than he saw his parents before he started living here again. For you.

His father is taken aback, offended as he scoffs, "You avoided me and your mother, and yet have the face to stay in our home?" He stands up and passes the coffee table that was Taehyung's only barrier to hover over him with distance. "I expected so much more from you, but you can't even do the bare minimum. An adult without a stable job, respectable girlfriend, and embarrassing grades. I'm ashamed to have raised such a boy, for I can't even call you a man."

Taehyung abruptly stands but he continues, "If you can't even pay rent, go back to that landfill you came from."

"I have to pay rent to live with my family?" He's livid and his hands shake by his sides; they're taking you away from him because what? He isn't the son they wanted him to be?

"You've made it clear that the only thing keeping you here is my daughter," he blindly points at the closed door of your room, "and you will have to try much harder to see her again. Get your life together, and you can come back."

Taehyung's face is heated with anger from the injustice. "What the fuck?! This is such bullshit; you're kicking me out?"

His father frowns at his language, growling, "Taehyung! I will not let you drag her down that path with you. When you stop destroying everything you touch, I'll gladly let you live here."

Destroy? He hasn't done any harm to anyone—especially not you. He knows he's self-destructive, but it doesn't extend to his environment. If he fails, it's his failure, but his father takes it personally instead of encouraging him to do better.

The importance of reputation and success in this family enrages him; he's aware that he's not much of an affectionate person either, but a little love wouldn't hurt to witness in the household.

Instead of defending himself or speaking his mind, he obliges bitterly.

"You need to get laid," are his last words before he slams the door and opens the zipper bag to pop a pill. Ecstasy isn't so fun when you're not around, but he can use the distraction. It's been a bad day.

He flips off a stray cat idling around the garden before casually leaving the property.

—————

Studying isn't fun for you, never has been, never will be. Though you hate every second of it, it does give you something to do to make time pass faster. You've been tutoring yourself about things you'll learn sooner or later anyway, but you guess it doesn't hurt to have to study less when the time comes.

You check the time. It's approaching night at 9 PM, and your father wouldn't protest against a break now, hopefully. He only suggested that you should start studying, but you know what his suggestions really mean.

Do it, or get shamed into doing it with subtle glances.

As if that isn't enough, he constantly checked up on you throughout the day. He wasn't exactly giving you a choice, which irks you.

But that's done and over with, and there's a more pressing matter at hand: where is Taehyung? You heard bits and pieces of the argument, but you couldn't get the whole scoop. You worry he's going to go back to his old habits of never being here, rarely seeing you. He would've been hanging out with you six hours ago out of routine... It can't just be you being clingy. Something happened.

You: are you coming home tonight?

The response takes a few minutes.

taehyung: nop

taehyung: but i am coming to ur room

taehyung: cuz ik u cant sleep without me 😖

You: actually the opposite but ok lol

You: when are you coming

taehyung: whenever u want uwu

You: uwu...?

You: just come before it gets too late

—————

So that was a lie. It's 1 AM and still no word from Taehyung. Okay, maybe you're just being clingy now, but it's unlike him not to be clingy. Maybe he wanted to cool off for a long time after his tak with your step-dad, or simply wanted to hang out with his friends after spending all of his time with you.

That makes sense. What doesn't is the slide of your window and shuffling of your curtains. You instantly sit up in your bed and clutch your blanket closer. You watch a silhouette enter your room as you pick up your limp, your tense muscles relaxing only when you recognize the intruder. You put down the lamp with a click of your tongue, ignoring the relief in your pounding heart.

"Hey," he stupidly grins at you. He looks disheveled, clothes untucked and wrinkled, and from the little light you have, you can see his redshot eyes.

"There's also the door," you remark sassily. "Are you um... high?"

He shrugs and crawls in your bed, dismissive as usual. You both make an effort to keep your voices quiet.

"I talked to mom earlier," you ease into the discussion until he butts in.

"That's great."

You roll your eyes and prop an elbow to look down at him. His head lies on his hands while staring at you, mood strangely upbeat. He's definitely high.

"She was a little sad about something, and I know it involves you. I heard you talking to–" You're interrupted with a lingering peck, a little rough in its force but not unwelcomed.

"I've missed kissing you. Shouldn't you be asleep, by the way?"

Recovering from the unexpected attack, you reply, "It's not that late. I don't have to wake up early."

"You shouldn't ruin your sleep schedule," he tucks a hair strand behind your ear without taking his eyes off of you. "Staying up is hard to stop once you start."

"Yeah, you're a great example," you joke with a quiet giggle. Whispering with him feels intimate in a heart fluttering way. His heart pangs with a feeling he can't put a finger on. "You didn't answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Don't play dumb, I'm really curious. What happened with dad?"

"A lot of things happen with dad," he shrugs, "sometimes we play catch–"

"Taehyung," you give him a pointed look, and he giggles.

"You're right, he'd never play catch with me." He groans as he stretches in your bed before trapping you with his arms on either side of you in one motion. You don't know what he's trying to do, but you watch him above you in amusement. "No offence, but when is your mom not sad when my dad is around?" he laughs with a huff.

"That's rude, Tae," you remark seriously, "she's happy when you're around."

Taehyung's smile falters like yours, his happy guise crumbling when he says, "Are you?"

"Pfft," you roll your eyes, "What do you think? I was up waiting for you."

Ah. That's not a very good influence.

"I'm here now," he whispers, "go to sleep. It's okay, I won't do anything, I know you worked hard today."

You agree with a yawn and nod. But even in your sleepy state, you can read the room—Taehyung is especially attentive of his tone and volume aside from being so tense. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in and on ecstasy," he falls back on his former spot, "I can't not be alright."

"Taehyung, I haven't seen you all day–"

"Yeah, because I didn't want to be here," he looks at you dead in the eye, "and I don't want you to be here."

You blink rapidly, slightly shaking your head in confusion, "What are you saying?"

"Move in with me."

He's met with cold silence, so he persuades persistently, "Don't you want to get away from here? You'll have so much more freedom with me, and I can help you with your assignments and everything. It'll be perfect."

"I— do you... Where?" Taehyung is high and he doesn't know what he's saying is what you believe because this is so out of the blue, so irrational, but he describes it like it's utopia; you are not completely against the idea.

"I have enough money from drug dealing to rent an apartment, and you can tell dad that you want to move out to be like an adult or whatever, that you have a stable job, without mentioning me," he rambles, and his dilated pupils are more noticeable up close; it slightly puts you off.

"Wh-what about mom?"

He scoffs, "If she wants out, she can get her second divorce. Don't worry about them; after all, they're apparently the only real adults here," he relates back to not being worthy of being called a man. You shift away from him little by little. "Just trust me."

The phrase is triggering for you, a reminder of the time you were tricked into trusting him moments before your trauma. "We'll talk about this when you're sober," you meekly say, avoiding eye contact.

A wicked smile grows on his face, "I can't wait, princess."

#idea tae #*cue big time rush theme*#just gotta say this one last time #the analysis was so well written #its honestly a sight for sore eyes 😫

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cynicallystiles · 3 years

Text

Seasons of Love: The One with the Cabin

Disclaimer: Moodboard made by me. Pictures found on Google!

Author: @cynicallystiles

Request: @itrocksmysocks basically requested this by making me obsessed with the triplets a year ago.

Warning: Swearing. Slight sexual content.

Notes: Chapter four is here! The whole thing still isn’t finished ahead of time like I wanted. Annnnndd I’m already falling behind schedule lol! Thanks for your patience! Please COMMENT/REBLOG if you enjoy it!

Pairing: Kallie Hayes (OC) x Mendes Triplets

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Chapter Three Chapter Five

Words: ~5.37k

"Kalliope!" The sound of her name accompanied by excessive knocking stirs her awake abruptly.

She startles and rolls off the bed onto the floor. "Ah! Jesus, fuck!" She groans and sits up, rubbing her shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" Her sister asks through the door, and Kallie can hear the amusement in her tone.

Pulling herself upright, she glances at the bed and sees Shawn's smooth, muscular back. "Fuck," she mumbles, barely holding in a laugh. "Uh...yeah! I just tripped getting out of bed!" She calls back with a little chuckle.

"It's nine right now, goober. Figured you'd want to be up in time to shower and help with breakfast," Cassie chuckles before her footsteps recede down the hallway.

Releasing a breath of air, Kallie turns back to the bed to find two brown eyes looking at her. "Jeez!" She gasps and closes her eyes to normalize her fast-beating heart. "When did you wake up?" She asks when she opens her eyes again.

"Hard to sleep with all the noise around here," Shawn teases. He rolls over and stands, allowing the sheets to slide off of his almost naked body. Kallie's eyes watch his muscles tighten as he stretches his arms above his head. "I can feel that ya know," he laughs.

She scoffs and stands to make her bed as he finds his clothes. "No, you can't," she argues with warm cheeks as she finds a loose shirt to pull over her shoulders. "I told you you weren't supposed to sleep here!" She groans and starts pushing him toward the window.

"Hey!" He protests as she gets the rope ladder. "You're the one who told me to hold you more," he reminds her and opens the window quietly.

As she secures the ladder to the window and rolls it down the side of the house, her eyebrows furrow. "No, I didn't," she denies, focused on making sure he won't injure himself.

"Yeah, Kal, ya did," he insists while hanging halfway out of the window.

Kallie shakes her head. "Well, I don't remember. Now, go! Before, anyone sees you," she giggles and places her palm flat against his forehead to push him down the ladder.

Shawn quietly enters through his front door and tries to sneak upstairs. His foot doesn't even hit the first step when a voice behind him makes him jump. "Where the hell have you been?" Turning, he sees Peter and Raul entering from the living room.

"Just went for a morning jog," he chuckles nervously.

Peter squints at his attire and crosses his arms. "You don't look like you went for a jog," he accuses suspiciously after seeing no sweat despite him wearing pants and a hoodie in hot weather.

"It was a light jog," he shrugs innocently, "didn't want to stink too much for breakfast since you two always take the hot water."

Raul rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Well, I showered last night. So, there's water left to clean up before we head over," he explains casually.

"Wait," Shawn stops leaning against the railing and takes a step forward. "You never shower at night," he states in confusion.

He just shrugs. "Yeah. Kal and I got a little messy last night," he chuckles and heads back into the living room, ignoring the twitch of Shawn's eye.

The boys arrive at Kallie's just as she's setting down the final plate of food on the table. Her hair is still damp around her shoulders from the shower, barely curling as it dries. Conversation flows chaotically while the boys catch up with Cassie and her moms.

Shawn catches Kallie's eyes as she takes the last sip of her almond milk. She asks him what's up by pinching her brows together. He nods subtly toward the kitchen. Concerned, she stands up.

"I'm gonna start clearing the dirty dishes," she informs everyone as she gathers some plates.

Shawn follows suit. "I'll help," he offers.

"But, cleanup is my thing," Peter points out in confusion.

Patting his shoulder, Shawn takes the dishes he's holding around the table. "Relax, for once. I've got it covered." He disappears into the kitchen after her.

"What's going on?" She asks in a hushed tone as she leans on the counter next to the sink.

Setting the dishes in the sink, he crosses his arms and turns to her. "What exactly did you and Raul get up to last night?" He sighs.

A chuckle slips past her lips before she sees the distraught in his eyes. "We just got ice cream and went to the park," she explains with a shrug.

"And that's it?"

Kallie lets her mouth part in surprise. "Should there be something else I don't remember?" She didn't like the accusation in his tone and Shawn's increasing jealousy was starting to irritate her.

"No," he deadpans, looking out the window above the sink. "It's just that Raul said you guys got messy but you didn't have dirt or anything on you when I came over."

Kallie clicks her tongue and scrunches up her face. "Are you kidding me?" She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms as well. "We got a little childish and were fighting with the ice cream, Shawn."

"But, you-" he begins but she inhales deeply and he cuts himself off.

"I got it in his hair, but he only got it on my arms. It was easy to wash off in the sink before you came," she scoffs.

He drops his arms and steps toward her. "Sorry, I just-"

"I know what 'you just'," she sighs in disappointment. "You can't keep getting jealous every time I hang out with him. Or Peter."

Looking at his feet, he mumbles, "I know."

"I think we should pause this," she declares quietly.

He quickly looks up to meet her eyes. "What? No! I'll stop being jealous. I'll-"

"It's not about that," she lies. She could feel things getting complicated between them and she didn't want that. "We're gonna be at the cabin all summer and there won't be time for it anyway. I don't want to ruin our last summer there with the drama if we get found out."

Nodding slowly, Shawn starts to calm down a little. "That makes sense. But, what about when we go back to university? I mean, we all still live together," he points out.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," she admits. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." As Kallie finishes her sentence, Peter wanders into the kitchen. "What's up?" She asks with a gentle smile, causing Shawn to look toward the door.

He shuffles shyly toward them, causing her to giggle. "It felt weird sitting out there not doing the dishes with you," he admits with a small grin.

"Then, come help me, Penguin. Shawn is terrible at rinsing," she teases. Shawn meets her eyes with a silent look of fading sadness as Peter sidles up close to her with an enormous grin at one of her many cute nicknames for him. He watches them bump shoulders and giggle before leaving with a sigh.

Later in the day, the boys help load Kallie's bags in the back of Shawn's Jeep before they start their trip to the lake. After hugging her moms and Cassie, they all head out of the house.

"Lemme guess...Kallie gets front seat as always," Raul teases, heading for the backseat.

Shawn nods with a cheeky grin, but Kallie also heads for the backseat. "Actually, I wanted to share the back with Peter..." She sneaks a glance at Shawn who has shock written on his face. He's worried that this 'pause' might be about more than she's letting on.

"Why though?" He clears his throat as Peter catches up to them after saying extended goodbyes to her family.

She shrugs while Raul is already riding shotgun. "This time we're learning sign language." Kallie then looks at Peter as she teases, "We've only got around two weeks left to become fluent."

His eyes flit between Shawn and her, picking up on the unsaid tension between them. He's quiet. But, he's not stupid. Peter lets his features melt into a smile that puts Kallie at ease.

"Sweet!" Peter jostles her by the shoulders excitedly before opening the door for her. With a small glance at Shawn, she gets in the backseat. "Wait...is the sign for 'cabin' this...or...this?" He asks to distract her from whatever is upsetting her. She chuckles as he slides in next to her practicing two gestures that look similar, but neither are anywhere close to meaning 'cabin'.

Clenching his jaw, Shawn slides into the driver's seat and pulls out of the driveway. The usually short two-hour drive to Muskoka was going to feel a lot longer without Kallie up front with him.

The first time that the Mendes' took Kallie to their beautiful cabin at Lake Muskoka was the December after she had first met the boys. Before she was allowed to go, their parents had to meet her parents. They ended up getting along so well that they invited her parents and her sister along as well.

After finally pulling up next to the cabin, Shawn flings off his seatbelt and races toward the door. "I gotta use the bathroom!"

Both of their parents chuckle. "We told you not to drink a whole hot chocolate before we even left Pickering, son," Manny reminds him playfully.

The adults work on unloading the bags, while the rest of the kids pile out of the vehicles. Kallie's eyes are immediately drawn to the lake nearby, covered in white. "Woah," she breathes out, a little intimidated by how big it is.

"You remembered your skates right?" Peter asks from a few steps behind her. She nods silently, not wanting to say that they all had to go out and buy new ones for this trip.

Before Peter can make more conversation, Karen calls out to them, "Lunchtime first! Then, you can skate all you want!"

"I'm starving!" Kallie declares with a giggle as she loops her arm through his. He's a bit surprised but he doesn't say anything as they walk quickly back into the house.

Peter is helping Kallie shed her coat just when Shawn comes back from the restroom. "Kallie, come sit next to me! I'll share my Oreos with you," he entices her.

"Oh, okay!" She says with a small glance at Peter. Shawn is so excited that he runs to the dining room without looking back to save their seats. Leaning toward Peter, she whispers conspiratorially, "You can sit on my other side if you want."

He nods happily and they join everyone else for a quick but filling lunch. Raul is the first to finish. He practically flings his dishes in the sink before issuing a challenge. "Last one on the ice is a loser!"

There's a brief second of silence before the sounds of chairs scraping on wood and dishes clanging overlap. Each one hurries to put their dishes in the sink and get their winter gear back on. Shawn is second out the door not long after Raul, both carrying their hockey skates by the laces.

Cassie and Kallie are neck in neck as they fly through the door in their many layers with brand new ice skates in their mittened hands. They get to the edge of the lake and make quick work of changing their footwear. Cassie throws herself onto the ice in third place, not even caring that she has no idea how to work the skates.

When Kallie knots her last lace, she stands up and puts her mittens back on to dust off the snow on her jeans. She hesitates at the edge, uncertain of how to get started. Her right blade almost touches the ice when she hears the door close in the distance. She looks back to realize that Peter wasn't racing with everyone else.

He takes his time to make his way to the lake while the grownups file out of the cabin behind him. They go about getting the fire pit going so they would all have somewhere to warm up in between activities.

Peter has a bag slung over his shoulder that looks a lot like the one he keeps his drawing stuff in. Kallie was going to wait for him to catch up, but Shawn skids to a stop mere inches from her.

"Let's go, Kal!" He urges and takes her hand to pull her onto the ice. "Once you get going, it'll feel easy!" She tries to protest as he pulls her further onto the ice, too far away from the bank to leap to safety.

Her skates glide along easily as Shawn skates backward, pulling her by the hands. She looks up to see Raul skating in a figure eight, while her older sister seems to be catching on fast. Raul breaks his formation to speed past and bump Shawn's shoulder.

"Hey! I'm gonna get you for that!" Without thinking, he lets go of Kallie's hands to chase after Raul.

She automatically bends over slightly to gain some kind of balance, arms outstretched in front of her in case she falls. Slowly, she pushes off one foot to slide a little faster. An excited giggle escapes her as she continues to practice this in a safe little circle.

Deciding that she's got the basics down, she stands up straight. Her arms stay poised to catch her if something bad happens but she manages to skate in a wider circle. She picks up speed and feels the cold wind whip at her face.

A little further ahead, she sees that her path is going to cross with Shawn and Raul's. The two of them were done with tag and were now racing in a circle. This makes Kallie realize very urgently that no one taught her how to stop.

Panicking, she tries to veer to the left. The tip of her skate catches a chip in the ice and sends her sprawling toward the bank of the lake. She sits up with a hiss, clutching the knee that took most of the impact.

"Kalliope!" She turns toward the sound of her name and finds Peter gliding toward her from the bank. She watches the way he tips his foot upward to use the back of his blade as a brake. He squats down beside her and looks at her knee. "Are you okay?"

She purses her lips and looks away, embarrassed about the crash and burn. "Yeah, it's just scraped," she mumbles, noticing his drawing materials scattered around his bag as if he dropped them in a hurry.

"Then, let's go again," he replies simply and stands up while holding out his hands for her. Kallie turns her head sharply toward him. "I promise I won't let go of you until you want me to."

His reassuring but crooked smile made all of her embarrassment go away. He doesn't care that she's bad at skating. It also made her happy that he would stop doing his favorite thing to teach her how to skate. So, she grabs his hands and lets him help her up.

Peter begins explaining all the "do's and dont's" of skating on lake ice. Apparently, it's different from skating rink ice. He tells her a fun fact about penguins and she laughs, bringing Shawn's attention back to her once again.

He skates over quickly and takes her hand that's not clutching Peter's forearm. "I can teach her from here! You probably want to go back to drawing anyway," he dismisses Peter.

"I don't wanna slow you down," she offers. "You play with Raul while I learn the ropes and tomorrow you can teach me hockey!" He looks at her skeptically, glancing to Peter on the other side of her who is pretending to be very interested in his skates. "Promise."

He nods. "Okay, if you're sure..." Kallie smiles in return and Shawn can't help but smile back. "Be careful, okay?"

"Always, duh," she teases before turning back to Peter. Shawn hears the conversation fade as Peter leads her around the lake. "So, penguins really build nests out of rocks?" She laughs.

He nods with a chuckle before spending the better part of two hours patiently teaching her how to skate. Once he's sure she's got it, he lets go and watches her glide ahead of him. She's so enraptured in skating that it takes a minute to realize he's not holding her hand.

Kallie immediately digs her heel into the ice and turns back. "Hey!" She crosses her arms with a pout as he skates up to her.

"What?" He laughs, "you were doing amazing!"

Her lip quivers the slightest bit and she avoids looking directly at him. "You promised you wouldn't let go," she murmurs.

"Kalliope," Peter breathes out her full name guiltily, "I'm really sorry. You were just doing so good and that's how mom and dad taught us how to ride bikes...so I figured..." he trails off with a shrug.

She sniffles and he's unsure if it's because she's sad or because of the cold. "Don't do it again," she pleads before carefully unfolding her arms to her sides.

"Promise," he instinctually replies. She raises her eyebrows at him. "For real this time." Peter grins and takes her hand tightly in his. Kallie can't help but smile as he pulls her along the edge of the lake.

"Moms! Look! I'm doing it!" She yells in excitement at her mothers. They both get up and quickly make their way to the edge of the lake with their cameras.

Proud looks cross their faces as they capture the two of them skating close together, hands tightly clutching each other. Manny and Karen come up behind them and share a knowing adult look. Cassie skates over to get in the pictures before Raul and Shawn join. Soon there's a picture of the five of them all wrapped around each other that they have framed and hanging on the living room wall of the cabin.

Kallie runs her fingers along the wooden frame of that picture in the living room, in the exact space on the wall that it's been hanging for about twelve years. She grins momentarily, the nostalgia quickly fading to sadness as the reality of it all hits her. This is probably the last summer they're gonna spend together here.

As the door creaks open and the boys clatter inside with arms full of bags and laughing, she shakes herself out of the sad mood. "I could've helped carry my stuff in, ya know!" She chuckles and moves to close the door behind them.

"That is absolutely not happening on our watch!" Shawn spouts nonsense while he struggles to keep a grip on her duffles.

She nods empathetically before taking them out of his hands with zero effort. "Seems like you need to hit the gym, Mendes," she digs at him as he automatically stands up straighter without the extra weight of her bags.

Kallie makes her way upstairs toward the bedrooms while the boys stare after her. "How is she doing that?" Shawn muses out loud and with a little envy.

"When did she get more ripped than you, bro?" Raul teases to Shawn's chagrin.

Peter interrupts as he walks backward toward the stairs. "She's always been able to carry her weight. You two have just always been too busy staring at her ass to notice." With a smirk, he spins around and jogs up the stairs, bags slung over his shoulders.

"Okay..." Shawn stretches out the word. "But, when did the runt start lifting like that?" Raul laughs out loud while he jostles Shawn's shoulders and shoves him toward the stairs.

When they were younger, the boys would share one room, the girls another, and both sets of parents had one to themselves. Since they're here by themselves, each could have their own for the whole summer. Kallie stands in the hallway debating which one to take as the boys catch up to her.

"What are you doing?" Raul questions with a chuckle. "Unpack so we can hit the lake before dark!"

She looks between the four doors and then the three boys. "Who's staying in what room, though?"

"Well, which one do you want?" Peter asks her and she quirks her brows together.

"Whichever one is left after you guys pick." She says it so simply. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The boys loved that about her. She always made sure they were taken care of.

"Dibs on mom and dad's old room, then!" Raul shouts before taking off toward the end of the hall.

"No fair!" Shawn shouts after him.

"I'm the oldest! Of course, it's fair!" He calls back.

Peter chimes in with a laugh. "Technically, Kallie is the oldest! But, whatever!" He shrugs.

"Guess I'll take our old room," Shawn sighs, unhappy with being cheated out of the master bedroom.

As he wanders back in the direction of the stairs, Peter touches Kallie's elbow gently. "You okay?" She'd gone quiet since looking at the door to the girls' old room.

"Mhm," she takes a deep breath and zones back in on Peter's concerned look, "promise." She forces a small smile.

"You can have the room your moms used," he offers kindly. "I don't mind staying in the smallest one."

When she glances back at the door, she can't bring herself to disagree. "Thank you..." she says quietly. He nods in understanding. "I haven't been able to go in there since..."

"I know." He takes her hand and squeezes it before going to settle into his room. She stands there for a second more before heading to her moms' old room and unpacking briefly.

That room holds a lot of memories for her. For all of them really. Not all of them good ones, though. She finds her favorite swimsuit and throws it on before putting her hair in a single braid. Meeting the boys out front, she doesn't fail to notice how all of their gazes linger on the dips and curves of her body. She shakes it off and heads to the water with them in tow.

Later that night after everyone's showered and dinner was long over, she sits on the bed in her room scrolling through Pinterest for new recipes to try. A knock draws her attention to the doorway where Raul leans against it.

"Hey," she sets her phone in her lap, "need something?"

He shrugs, almost stepping into the room but hesitating. "Just wanted to make sure you're doing okay," he confesses. Kallie takes a deep breath. "We haven't been back here since senior year..."

"Yeah, I know," she deadpans and looks toward the window. She closes her eyes and sighs. "Sorry. Thank you, I'm fine."

This time, he doesn't hesitate to enter and sit at the edge of her bed. "You don't have to apologize. It's okay to not be fine." He sets his ringed hand atop her knee over the blanket.

"I know," Kallie pauses, "I know that." She sounds like she's trying to convince herself more than him. "It just feels wrong to not be fine, ya know?" She shrugs and plays with the yarn of the blanket.

He chuckles lightly. "It's also okay to be fine." She glances at him before he continues. "I know you miss her. But, you can miss her and move on. Lin wouldn't want you to be sad forever. That's not who she was," he comforts her.

"I don't wanna move on, Raul," she whimpers finally and reaches her arms out to him. He instantly brings his arms around her waist and squeezes her tight.

"That was a poor choice of words on my part," he admits into her hair. "I meant..." he pauses, struggling for the right thing to say as he rubs her back soothingly.

Kallie rubs her nose along his neck and he stills. "I know what you meant." She sniffles and pulls back from him, wiping at her wet eyes. "Thank you."

"I'm just down the hall if you need anything," he promises as he gets up. She smiles softly at him as he leans in and kisses her forehead. Sighing at the soft gesture, her eyes close in response. "Night, Kit Kat."

She fights a grin. "Night, Playboy."

Kallie lays back on her pillows as Raul leaves. She's about to turn out the lights when Shawn walks by toward his room. "Hey," she calls softly. He freezes and backtracks a few steps to be in the open doorway.

"Hey, Kal," he replies while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Her eyes flick to his chest and his lack of a shirt before reeling in her thoughts. "Everything okay?"

He heads into her room and closes the door behind him by habit. Her eyes widen and he realizes what he did. Shawn turns back to open it but she stops him. "It's okay, you can leave it closed," she chuckles.

"Right..." He makes his way over to her and sits gingerly on the bed. For a minute, they just sit in silence. It stretches on awkwardly since they haven't really talked since she asked for a 'pause' on their pact. "I'm really sor-"

"I just wanted to-" They both pause after talking over each other and giggle. "You go." She nudges his hand with hers, leaving it close by but not touching.

He nods. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how I acted this morning," he begins timidly. "It was wrong of me to accuse you of anything and to not trust you."

"It's okay," Kallie responds automatically even though Shawn shakes his head. "No, it really is. I get the whole sibling jealousy thing. It's not as intense with my sister but I get it," she chuckles and he cracks a grin. "You're all my best friends and I don't want to cause trouble between you three..."

Shawn sighs. "Is that why you paused us?" He questions. Slowly, she nods and he closes his eyes to compose himself. "Thank god," he breathes out. When he opens his eyes, she has a confused look on her face. "I'm relieved that it's not because of me or something," he laughs.

"No!" She laughs too. "I guess I just wanted to cut it off before any complications started messing with our Musketeer dynamic." His eyebrows scrunch together, wondering what she meant by that. "Never mind," she scoffs, changing the subject, "I'm glad we cleared this up though, eh?"

He blinks a couple of times, his mind trying to find what exactly has been 'cleared up.' "So, this means..." Shawn stalls, hopefully sending the message for her to finish the sentence.

She giggles and finishes it, "That once we go back to Toronto...we can unpause." His lips pull into an elated grin, causing her cheeks to blush for no reason. "We're all gonna be really busy, but if our schedules allow...then, yes. We can unpause," she informs him.

"Yes!" He cheers before catching himself and regaining composure. Clearing his throat, he responds, "I mean, thank you. I would very much like that. And I promise to keep my jealousy in check from now on."

Kallie nods like it's an appropriate response. "As you should," she giggles.

"I'm gonna leave before you change your mind," he declares. Before he does, Shawn leans in and places his lips on hers briefly but passionately. He pulls back with a knowing look. "Just to leave you wanting more until the next time, eh," he teases as he practically sprints to the door.

She throws a pillow at him and misses. "Goodnight, you heathen!" He rolls his eyes and disappears down the hall.

After a moment, Kallie turns out her light and closes her eyes to go to sleep. She tosses and turns for a while before throwing the blankets off of her in frustration. She grabs her phone and unplugs her charger from the wall before creeping down the hallway.

Quietly, she raps her knuckles on the bedroom door a few times. A few seconds pass and she hears him call out in a whisper-yell, "It's open!" She carefully opens the door, trying not to make it creak, and peeks her head in.

"Hi." She hesitates in the doorway, looking around and then at her feet. Taking a deep breath, she tip-toes in, closing the door behind her with a light 'click.'

Peter turns his book over and lays it open in his lap when he realizes she just walked into the room she hasn't step foot in in almost four years. "Hey, Kalliope." She smiles softly as her full name leaves his lips. Kallie doesn't know why, but he's always called her by her full name. And he's the only one who does.

"I forgot to bring Copper," she admits, dragging her feet as she walks toward the bed. Silently, he flips the blankets over so she can crawl in next to him. He knows she can never sleep without her stuffed fox. The only way she can is if she can cuddle someone in his place.

Kallie quickly tosses him her charger to plug in. Then with a childlike grin, she crawls over him to settle in under the blankets. Peter looks away as the T-shirt that she's wearing lifts up, exposing her underwear slightly. He didn't want to, but he notices that they were men's boxer briefs and he has to stifle a laugh. Kallie always prefers comfort over anything else, gender norms be damned.

She's about to cuddle into his side when she realizes that he's shirtless. Swallowing slightly, she tries not to rake her eyes over his smooth chest and the way his butterfly tattoo accentuates his bicep. You wouldn't know it when he's wearing his sweaters, but Peter stays fit.

"I can put on a shirt if it'd make you more comfortable." He snaps her out of her daze when he notices her staring.

Kallie quickly makes her eyes meet his warm caramel ones. "No, you don't have to do that," she breathes out, "I was honestly just thinking about the last time I saw you shirtless."

"Oh..." A blush crawls along his neck and up to his cheeks. "It's been a minute, eh?" He chuckles. She tips her head to the side and pulls up one shoulder in a shrug with a giggle.

With a comfortable atmosphere, she scoots closer and he lifts his arm to make more room. Kallie leans up and kisses him on his cheek, lingering a second longer than usual. He breathes in deeply, notes of cherry blossom drifting from her hair. When she pulls back she looks at him for a second before laying her head down on his chest.

He makes sure she's comfortable before pulling the blankets back up and positioning his book so that he can hold it with one hand. His other gently caresses her side and rubs circles into her back. Peter begins to read out loud even though Kallie doesn't know what the book is about. Truthfully, she never cares. She likes him reading out loud to her because of the sound of his voice mixing with his heartbeat under her ear.

Occasionally, he lifts his hand up to play with her hair or run his fingers along her scalp. She hums contently and cuddles closer when he does. He finishes his chapter and sets the book on the nightstand before turning out the light. He wraps both arms around her and settles into the pillows.

His hand finds hers in the darkness laces their fingers together. Carefully, he brings her knuckles to his lips and lets them linger there. When he's finished, he rubs her knuckles with his thumb. "Goodnight, Kalliope," he whispers, assuming she's asleep.

Kallie's head nuzzles his chest and he feels her lips brush the skin of his collarbone before pressing in for a long moment. She angles her head up to his ear and whispers back, "Goodnight, Peppermint."

Tag List: @marissje @mariamuses

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loftec · 4 years

Note

Hi i don't know if anyone haven't ask you about it or i'm the only one who wants to read it but CAN YOU PLEASE SHARE YOUR NOTES (ch.44) i don't know if you were serious about that but i really would love to read them cause i'm obsessed with everything what is ntw related 🖤 hope ur well

Hi friend! It’s possibly just you (or one other person, in case of separate anons) but that is enough! I was absolutely serious.

Note on the notes! This is not all of it, because my notes for this chapter were often repetitive and very messy, and some older notes were from four years ago when I didn’t bother writing things out properly, so they barely make sense even to me. But! I’ve done my best to sort everything in some kind of linear order, and removed most of the repetition. And, well, you asked for it... sorry! 🖤

Ian shows up in the morning, Mickey digs out the magazine Iggy stole from Amelia’s dentist’s office the other day and confronts Ian about the big-ass article in Rolling Stone about IAN’S BAND, says he’s listened to some of their songs, takes out a paper where he’s written down some lyrics that sound strangely familiar.

You’re famous!

I’m in a band, people know about us right now, tomorrow they might not. I’m not famous.

You’re kinda famous.

Ian talks about Mickey recognizing him because of Frank. Hints that there might be several songs inspired by Mickey. It’s awkward as fuck, didn’t want you to know.

Were you ever gonna tell me?

Oh yeah, I had a plan. 3 dates, dinner and a movie, day out with Yev, dinner at my place turned vigorous love-making. Second prong; cohabitation, engagement, marriage, then on our wedding night I tell you about crushing on Justin Timberlake when I was 12,

then I tell you I’m semi-famous, if it still applies.

Mickey thinks his face might be on fire.

What the?

I’m fucking with you, Mick. Figured you already knew.

This again?

You angry?

No, I’m not fucking angry. Just-

Freaked out.

Kinda, yeah.

You shouldn’t be. Please.

It’s weird that I didn’t know, I feel like a schmuck. (And I’m pretty sure by your count we’ve already been on those first two dates.)

I’m sorry. I thought you knew and by some fucking miracle didn’t treat me different. I’d been gearing up to maybe have to have this conversation on our date, ‘cause it’s shit sometimes, you know? I don’t do interviews and I never talk about myself when I gotta do them, but there’s still a limelight and a lot of bullshit that complicates

I’ve been crushing on you since we met basically, and I thought I’d just… let it run its course, keep my mouth shut about it and deal until it went away and we could remain friends without me fucking it up.

Didn’t work, by the way.

Good.

Mickey is talking about it with Etch, who suggests that Ian’s been writing at the diner for a reason.

Etch looks up some lyrics and Mickey caps locks them to Ian

You might have inspired a few lately…

Fuck off. How many?

Since we met? Pretty much all of them.

Maybe one or two made it on to the album, but I wrote those before we really got to know each other so they’re just like… about moments, and how I would feel around you.

Didn’t think of it as creepy but it kinda sounds that way now.

No it’s fine

I won’t do it again.

Said it’s fine. Kinda like it.

Yeah?

You gonna tell me which ones are about me, or is that a secret too?

What are you doing tonight?

Thought you said you were going on tour?

We are, it starts tonight. It’s a small fan club gig here in Chicago.

You have a fan club?

Kinda. I’ll put you on the guest list if you want to come.

(Mickey calls Svetlana to make sure Yevgeny can stay with her over the weekend.)

It’s fine if you don’t want to, we’ll do something else when I get back.

Calm your tits Gallagher, course I wanna go. Needed to make sure I’ve got Yev covered.

Oh okay, good. You’re on the list. Doors at 7, gig starts at 8, no support.

You’ve got no chill.

(Ian doesn’t answer for a while)

I like it.

Good, that was torture. Never doing that again.

(Etch teases him about having his nose in his phone, and makes him aware of new guests arriving)

Gotta get back to work

Yeah, me too. See you tonight?

No chill at all.

Ian invites him to the concert and gives Mickey his phone number. Mickey makes sure Yevgeny stays with his mom on saturday, and after work he goes home and gets ready. Showers and cleans himself thoroughly, puts on cologne and a band t-shirt he hasn’t worn in ages, it’s gotten kinda tight on him since he got it. (He puts on a dress shirt first, tucks it into his pants and glares at his reflection).

He’s on the guest list when he gets there, the girl in the box office can’t find him at first but then Anne shows up and points him out, he’s on the VIP list and gets a pass that he’s told he needs to carry so it’s visible. He makes a point of shoving it in the admission guy’s face, but then shoves the ostentatious thing down the pocket of his jeans. Anne shows him in and tells him about the gig, about how the fan club got started. Anne says he can go backstage but he says he’ll pass, thank you. He gets a beer and finds a good spot, there’s a balcony halfway through the venue where he’s got a perfect view of the stage without having to stand in the front.

They text a little, Mickey says he’s there and Ian says he’ll make a sign when they play a song inspired by him.

run-through of the concert, Ian touches the side of his nose when the song is about Mickey. He’s sexy as fuck, and has some ridiculous stripper moves.

He takes off his hoodie at some point, and sweating through his tank he and Anne put on gloves and start hitting the barrels with crowbars.

Anne is the maestro, maybe Ian crowd surfs at some point? Warren Ellis that violin, man. He has little routines with Anne, and some with Jon too. One song, Anne gets one of his guitars and he does noisy stuff with his violin and plays on the oil barrels with Stran, completely in sync.

They got some good stage banter going, and at some point Ian does a Tom Waits impression, and Anne groans and says he’ll sing the whole thing if they’re not careful. There’s a reason why he’s

For the encore, Ian touches the side of his nose and they start playing a song, Anne saying that this is a first. It looks like Ian is about to sing, but then it looks like he changes his mind and they start playing a song that Mickey sure as fuck hope isn’t about him. The insufferable man on a date right next to Mickey tells the woman he’s with that they were about to play the mysterious title track from their last album that never ended up on the record

“it’s derivative, but cute”

how can it be a title track if it’s not on the album

the guy talks about how he’s got a friend working as an engineer in the studio and he’s sent him an early demo version. It’s not their best song by far, but it’s cool that pretty much no one else has heard it.

Mickey asks the girl if she’s ok with this joker, and she says she’s fine. He offers to get her a cab or something, if she wants to get out of there.

She says she’s not interested

Lady, if I wanted to get with either of you, it wouldn’t be you. Just sayin, I ain’t picky, but that guy would’ve gotten the boot ten minutes into the date if he were here with me, no offense.

WHAT IF.

The concert is over, and crowd starts to let up. Then a fight breaks out at the front and Mickey makes his way towards it. It’s over before he gets there, and sees a guy in his 40s with a bleeding nose, and Lip shaking out his fist, a security guard between them.

Mickey talks to the guard and defuses the situation, putting the bleeding man in the position of a sad overzealous fan. It somehow warms Lip to him, absurdly, and he finds himself apologized to, Lip shaking his hand and wincing when Mickey grips his bruised knuckles a little too hard. Lip vaguely explains that that was an old ex of Ian’s, a real piece of work, and then offers Mickey to come backstage with them to see Ian. Mickey declines.

It’s Lip, Carl and Debbie (Liam is too young, and Fiona too pregnant).

“I was drunk, and wrong, and when I’m wrong I say I’m wrong. (IT’S FROM DIRTY DANCING YOU LITERALLY FORGET EVERY TIME AND HAVE TO GOOGLE IT WHENEVER READING THIS NOTE should I really be quoting Baby’s dad in this fic? Probably. If anyone can, it’s Lip.) And Ian tells me you’ve been there for him a lot lately

I wouldn’t say that

But he did, he doesn’t tell me a lot these days, but he told me that.

Mickey gets another beer at the bar as people mill towards the merch and exit, he sits on a stool with an eye on the backstage passage. He watches the band come out to talk to some of the lingering fans and sign shit. Ian comes out and is immediately surrounded by fans, he locks eyes with Mickey across the room and Mickey raises his beer in a silent cheers. Ian comes up to him after a few minutes, he looks damp and exhilarated and unexpectedly nervous,

How was it?

Not bad, Gallagher.

he asks Mickey over. He has to pack up his shit and do the rounds, but he’ll be done in half an hour, tops. Mickey says he’ll meet him outside.

Ian leaves and Mickey finishes his beer, watching Ian talk to some fans, signing shit and taking pictures. He goes for a piss and then goes out for a smoke.

Ian comes out after twenty minutes, carrying two guitar cases and a large wheelie-bag. Mickey takes one of the guitars off his hands and they walk together.

(maybe Ian has a banjo and he gives it to Mickey to carry and Mickey is all really? I wanna kick your ass so bad right now, country boy, but then carries it anyway.) (banjos are cool)

Walk from the club. Mickey mentions talking to Lip. They talk about Ian’s Tom Waits impression. You’re not musically illiterate at all! Talk about Mickey’s Radiohead tee that he stole from a hookup when he was sixteen, he’s grown into it now. Talk about Ian’s onstage dancing, used to be a stripper, well, not saying you can’t still do private performances (?? you know what I mean! this is not what they’re saying but you’ll remember it) (Note from 2020: I DID NOT REMEMBER IT.)

Talk about wanting to learn playing the trumpet. Don’t have trumpet playing lips.

”Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to, I believe in you.”

Looks at Mickey and smiles.

”What?”

”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

”Maybe.”

”Huh”

“What?”

“Oh nothing.” “Just re-evaluating everything you’ve ever said to me.”

”Re-evaluate this;” gives Ian the finger.

”That an invitation?”

”Fuck you is what it is,”

“sounds like an invitation.”

Ian tells him a little about his different instruments, Mickey picks up the beat up guitar Gus first gave to Ian and strums it, Ian asks him to play him something but Mickey snorts and says he’s counting on getting laid tonight and him playing would be detrimental to that plan. Ian doesn’t think so, but accepts it when Mickey gives him the guitar.

”I’ve walked some thousand miles,” he starts softly, eyes on his left hand, moving over the strings, ”I have slept many hundred nights, and people’ve said hello and bye through the years since you were mine. But don’t think I’ll stop my mourning, don’t I know it’s overdue. Just because I’ve gotten older, none the wiser I cry for you.”

”Honey, cutie, sweetie-pie,” ”My darling boy, sweet old times, as long as I keep you in mind I will remember what love is like. So, don’t think I’ll stop my mourning, don’t I know it’s overdue.”

”Just because I’ve gotten older, none the wiser.”

”I cry for you.”

I’M THINKING OF WRITING MY OWN SONG BECAUSE I WAS THIS MOMENT TO BE MORE BEFORE SUNSET THAN ANYTHING, ALL SMILES AND DRAMA FREE. SO MAYBE A TEXT THAT IS A LITTLE MORE STRAIGHTFORWARD.

Ian plays the song and when he’s done, Mickey kisses him and they have really enthusiastic sex on the couch. Mickey is about to leave after when Ian invites him to stay,

How about some long-ass foreplay on the couch and then they move into the bedroom.

They start on the couch, they take it to the bedroom, they collapse on the bed after and Mickey is feeling too good to argue when Ian mumbles at him to “stay”.

(Sings the song, says it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a song, it’s one quick thought put under a spotlight. Feeling like he should have known Mickey his whole life already. It’s too much, isn’t it? In the kitchen.

”do you normally take guys home and serenade them?”

”nah, don’t think it’d be very effective with most.”

”But you figured I’d swoon?”

”Figured you’d want the truth.”

”which is?”)

??? Need to find a good mix of excitement and new and easy, balanced with ho shit wtf are we doing this isn’t going to end well i think i fucking love him shut the fuck up. needs to be sexy and a little rough, as well as painfully sincere against better knowledge. kissing will do that. they’re doing stuff the way they usually do stuff, but for some reason it feels completely different.

Important that Mickey kisses him.

They stand up and stand chest to chest, Ian says they don’t have to do anything, Mickey says shut up and get naked

he helps ian take his shirt off and kisses him the second his face comes back into view

They fucks on the couch.

OR ALT FADE CUT END and don’t go explicit. Just saying, it’s an option. A valid option.

They can go at it in one of the sequels? Like the roadtrip can be more explicit? If I want? But also not?

I mean, there is such a thing as a nice middle ground right.

I just don’t think I’m interested in going all out porn after 40+ chapters of whatever.

THEY KISS AND THEN THERE’S A MOTHERFUCKING FADE TO BLACK MY FRIEND, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I HAVE DECIDED. Soz

WHAT IF!!

Iggy comes in, is all: guess what I found at the dentist this morning?

M: again? Did Amelia break another tooth?

I: It’ll grow back, take a look at this

E: Did you steal that from the dentist’s office?

M: Rolling Stone, wtf?

E: your dentist’s got rolling stone?

Mickey reads the headlines out loud as a customer comes in and asks Etch about something they’ve lost the other day, and Etch starts rifling through boxes behind the counter as Mickey moves over to sit down in Ian’s booth, rifling through the magazine.

M: what am I looking for?

I: I marked the page

E: what’s this note?

Mickey starts reading the article, realizing that the blurred picture is of Ian, and the interview is with Ian, and holy shit. Ian is legit famous.

Etch starts reading the list of coffees, eventually turning the page over and pointing out that there’s a phone number.

Iggy comes to the diner in the morning, Etch is rifling through stuff behind the counter and Mickey is doing the rounds with the few guests still there after the morning rush.

Iggy shows him the magazine he found at the dentist’s and Etch is in the background like wtf is this, reading from Ian’s note with the coffee orders, Mickey only half listens, trying to take in the fact that Ian is fucking famous.

Etch says there’s a phone number too and Mickey brushes him off.

Then he’s like, hold the fuck up! And gets the note from the trash and tries the number, and Ian fucking answers. And they have the you’re famous conversation on the phone and voila, Mickey has his number and vice versa.

So Mickey calls Ian in the morning, then there’s text talk during the day.

From Ian

So, you’ve had my number for x days and you only now decided to use it?

That’s cold.

From Mickey

You wrote it on a piece of paper you then balled up and threw on the floor, asshole, it’s a miracle it didn’t end up in the trash. didn’t know I had it until this morning.

You suck at this. (This is a nice revelation that he likes, but Maybe that doesn’t come across in text.

Not a complaint btw, just gleeful observation.

From Ian

Are we still on?

From Mickey

Of course.

Dumbass.

Ian

I probably deserved that.

At some point Mickey starts capslocking and sending lyrics to Ian, who has to explain through text why he’s written songs about Mickey, saying that he’ll point them out tonight.

HERE’S A QUESTION

SHOULD I SKIP THE WHOLE “WRITING SONGS ABOUT MICKEY” BUSINESS??

Isn’t it enough that Ian is famous and kept this fact from Mickey? Isn’t the writing songs business a little creepy? and if he did write songs about Mickey, would he really publish them without Mickey’s consent? No. Maybe I’m deliriously tired and about to fall ill right now, but I actually think I should skip that part. It’s a little sad because it’s been part of this idea for three years, but if I’m uncertain about it now imagine how I’m going to feel about it later?

When I started writing this story, it was supposed to be a quick and silly thing, and now it’s something else. It’s not important or anything, but also it is. To me. And making a decision on the rating was a big deal for me, and I think this is another one of those things. I’ve been holding on to this idea for so long but when I really think about it, is it even romantic? It’s romantic in that kind of teenage dream way, maybe? It’s more romantic to me if they fall in love for reasons other than Ian writing songs. But he’s written NTW, and he still thinks about performing it live, but we skip the whole thing about songs being about Mickey.

So they talk on the phone in the morning, and then there’s a text coming in after a little while asking if Mickey wants to come to the show.

HEYHO IT’S A REVOLUTION AND I FEEL FREE

Mickey and Ian text after the show (after Mickey declines going backstage) Ian asks him to meet him round back in twenty minutes. When Mickey goes out there, he sees Ian talking to a couple of fans by the bus and Mickey hangs back to smoke while he waits. The fans leave and Ian looks around, checks his watch, he has a bunch of guitars with him.

I AM LEANING HEAVILY TOWARDS MICKEY KISSING IAN HERE. He’s like “Stop, hold this” giving Ian back the guitar, so he can grab on to him and kiss him, smiling against Ian lips as the guitar tips over and clatters against the asphalt.

They’re outside Ian’s house, Ian says he has to get up at an unholy hour tomorrow. Invites him in anyway.

They’re in the elevator, then they’re in Ian’s apartment. Ian plays him the song, Before sunset ending.

almost none of that rhymed, just letting you know. kinda embarrassing.

(almost none of that rhymed, just letting you know. kinda embarrassing.

yeah, it’s not a very good song. is why we cut it from the record

oh yeah? thought it was ‘cause of the like, intensely personal subject

that too)

They smile at each other like fools and Mickey feels like he is exactly where he’s supposed to be, and there’s no rush. Fade to black.

Etch finds the paper, says there’s a phone number on it. Mickey dials the number and goes out back as it rings out. When Ian answers, he reads a question from the interview and they talk.

He goes back into the diner and basically blows the whole thing off, it doesn’t make any difference to him and he has to go back to work. Yevgeny does his homework and Iggy leaves, and Ian invites Mickey to the gig via text. Etch invites Yevgeny to stay over at theirs for a movie night.

Does Mickey tell Yev about the gig?

Start with Mickey out back, smoking. The phone rings and he waits for Etch to take it, but it keeps ringing. He bangs the door and yells PHONE and then it stops ringing. He kills the cigarette and goes back inside. Etch is behind the counter talking on the phone and going through the lost and found, looking for whatever the caller has lost. Mickey clears a table. It’s afternoon. Etch hangs up but keeps going through stuff in the box, talking to Mickey, when Iggy comes in.

It’s maybe more like afternoon (?) when Iggy comes in and shows Mickey the magazine. He calls Ian and they have a quick conversation (he probably goes outside to have it, to escape his audience) and they establish that Ian is sorta famous. Then they text back and forth a little, until Ian invites him to the show.

Mickey calls Svet to arrange it so Yev can stay with her, and then accepts. He goes home after work to eat, have a shower and change out of his clothes. He wears the only band tee he owns, mostly because it’s funny and because it’s kinda tight and he doesn’t think he looks too bad in it (and a dress shirt is way too much for a concert not-date, not that he tried on a couple first. Then he does a little bit of cyberstalking only to find very little personal information and a lot of crazy fans. Maybe he watches a couple of music videos, but they’re all really weird cartoons so they give him nothing. They’re cool though, and guess the music’s alright, even though he doesn’t have a connection yet to it so it’s hard to tell if he likes it.

Yevgeny calls, because Mickey switched the days and he wants to know why. Mickey asks if he knows about the Broken Bells, and Yev’s like duh who doesn’t? And freaks out when Mickey tells him about Ian. He doesn’t tell him about the whole date situation though, just that he’s going to the concert. Maybe Yev asks for some merch.

Mickey takes an Uber to the venue, even though it’s not too far from the diner (but on the other side, so at least a 30 minute walk) and it seems like they’ve already started letting people in. He hangs back until the admissions office is clear and then tells the lady that he’s on some kinda guest list. She can’t find him, and he’s about to give up and go home when he sees a familiar figure in the background. He calls her Stay-puft first, but then also remembers that her name is Anne and calls her that too. She remembers him, and finds him on a different (VIP) list, the venue staff woman is embarrassed, but Anne is borderline flirting she’s so nice about the mistake. Mickey gets a pass that he’s supposed to keep around his neck, but he shows it to the guards and then tucks it down his back pocket. Anne shows him inside the venue and asks if he wants to come backstage and say hello, but he kindly declines.

He has a quick peruse of the merch table (he checks the CDs, and then sees a smaller table next to the merch with a guy handing out pins, Mickey talks to him and finds out that it’s “fan club” pins to commemorate the gig and Mickey asks if his VIP pass gets him one, it does, and then the guy asks if Mickey wants to sign up for the newsletter) and then gets a beer, before finding a good spot on the mezzanine floor. He’s got a balcony railing for support and beer holder, and he’s got an excellent view of the stage. The floor is filling up with people packing themselves against the front. He texts Ian saying he’s here and they text a little back and forth. He gets someone to watch his spot and goes to the restroom. There, he finds a kid getting cornered by a middle-aged man. The kid looks vaguely familiar and not older than sixteen. Mickey steps in and casually accuses the guy of creeping on a kid and the guy immediately backs off, the kid says thanks and that he’s eighteen (because it’s an 18+ gig) and Mickey says sure.

Getting back to his spot, There is a douchebag on a date behind him that he wants to move away from, but he doesn’t want to surrender his good spot. He decides to tune him out, he’ll hopefully shut up once the set starts. It’s just a couple of minutes after eight when the lights dim and a song comes on louder than before, and the band start coming out on the stage. Ian is wearing jeans and a hoodie, like he normally does, but he’s clean shaven and his normally smiling face is set in blank determination. Anne is the front person, and she commands the audience with the slightest gesture. It’s obvious that the venue is filled with old fans, they all know exactly what to do exactly when she asks them to do it. Ian’s got like four guitars and a whole lot of other shit around him, and he’s super focused on doing his stuff, but now and then he does little routines with Anne and Jon, and gets a big cheer for his occasional solos.

A few songs in, Ian gets up to stand on one of the oil barrels, and Anne starts banging on it with a crowbar. That’s when Mickey starts to really get into it. It’s cool, and it’s a lot harder than Ian made it out to be, but kind of theatrical at the same time. Ian is brilliant, even though he dances like an uncoordinated stripper.

There is banter between the songs, mainly between Anne and Stran (girl sure bangs those drums!) Anne starts banging one of the oil barrels again and Ian and Jon do a little step dance next to each other across the scene.

At some point Ian takes off his hoodie. He’s wearing a white tank and he’s already sweating through it. He gives his guitar to Anne and puts on gloves. Him and Stran do a little bant-y thing and then they start a new song by both banging the barrels in unison while Anne and Jon start playing (maybe Jon plays something else, like an electric piano or a marimba?). At the crescendo of the song, Ian takes out a baseball bat and goes to town on the barrel, sweat shining on his muscly arms and his wet hair flopping down his forehead.

They go off the stage, but come back when the crowd chants a song, stomping their feet and clapping their hands. Anne says they’ve got one more song for them, and they start playing. She moves away from the microphone and it looks for a second like Ian is going to step up and sing. Douchebag behind Mickey tells his date about an unreleased b-side to the last album. But then Ian steps back and says something to Stran, who nods and moves into a slightly different beat. Without blinking Anne, steps back up to the mic and sings the last song.

Some of the crowd lingers by the stage after the lights have gone back on, but most move towards the bar or the merch table. Mickey hangs back to watch the crew take down the stage, and the two oil barrels being handed over to someone in the audience, along with set lists and left-over picks. Walking down from the mezzanine floor to go look for the restrooms, a fight breaks out on the floor. Mickey immediately recognizes one of them as Lip and the other one as the creep from the bathroom, and intervenes by clearly positioning himself on Lip’s side and reminding the creep that he could get him in trouble, the creep backs off and agrees when Mickey tells the security guards it was an accident (in a way that isn’t obviously helpful, but in the end still makes sure that Lip isn’t hurt or arrested for punching a guy) (because he did, he punched a guy, who is thrown out by the guards after Mickey’s intervention). Lip, Carl, Debbie, and Liam is there, but it’s only Lip who knows who Mickey is. He hangs back to talk to Mickey while his siblings go backstage (and PROBABLY DOESN’T tell him a little bit about the guy being Ian’s ex, making it clear that Lip really doesn’t like him). He also apologizes to Mickey for last time. He asks if Mickey wants to go backstage, but Mickey declines. He’s decided earlier with Ian through text that he’ll wait for him and thinks it’s better to do it somewhere that isn’t backstage where he might get asked questions and have to talk to people who aren’t Ian.

He gets another beer and stands in the bar next to the merch, watching as Ian and the rest of the band come out to sign some stuff and shake hands. Ian still looks slightly damp from sweat, even though he’s obviously changed clothes and run a towel through his hair. Mickey wonders if his skin tastes like salt. He drinks his beer.

Ian comes up to him after a little while, asking well? (or texts him, which probably makes more sense? But I also want Mickey to see Ian post-show)

Not bad Gallagher, not bad at all.

Ian looks pleased and asks if Mickey wants to come over, even though Ian has an early morning. Mickey says yes and Ian asks him to wait until they’re done packing up.

Mickey finishes his beer, goes to the restroom (where he sees douchebag by the urinal) and then he goes outside to wait for Ian. (He talks to douchebag’s date and offers to get her a taxi before the guy comes out.) He smokes a cigarette, and before he knows it, Ian is by his side, carrying a fuck ton of guitars. They decide to walk, for some reason, talking on the way.

HEY

Ian says he’s got a car coming and they walk a little bit to where they’re getting picked up. They talk about trumpet lips and stuff and Mickey kisses him. They get interrupted by the car arriving, and Ian picks up his guitars and says “you coming?”

Fuck yes

They sit in silence in the car, but it’s a good one. Ian says

Lip told me what you did back there.

He didn’t tell you shit.

He did, told me you stepped in and stopped him from getting arrested

He was getting his ass kicked, someone had to help the guy

And Liam told me you got him out of a tough situation in the restroom

That was Liam? Some pedo’s creeping on a kid by the urinal, I’m not gonna stand by doing nothing.

You know that’s not what happened

Yeah, well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

He isn’t a pedo, and Lip would’ve beat the shit outta him if you hadn’t stepped in.

You defending this guy?

No, trying to say thanks.

You’re shit at it.

Thank you, Mickey

Better.

So… friend of yours.

No. (Ian isn’t forthcoming with the info)

Alright, whatever.

And he’s definitely not someone I wanna talk about, tonight.

(Ian is smiling at him, all the promise in the world in his eyes)

Fucking fair enough.

They arrive.

OR Ian joins Mickey outside and they stand around and talk

They talk about Ian’s Tom Waits impression. You’re not musically illiterate at all! Talk about Mickey’s Radiohead tee that he stole from a hookup when he was sixteen, he’s grown into it now. Talk about Ian’s onstage dancing, used to be a stripper, well, not saying you can’t still do private performances (?? you know what I mean! this is not what they’re saying but you’ll remember it)

Talk about wanting to learn playing the trumpet. Don’t have trumpet playing lips.

”Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to, I believe in you.”

Looks at Mickey and smiles.

”What?”

”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

”Maybe.”

”Huh”

“What?”

“Oh nothing.” “Just re-evaluating everything you’ve ever said to me.”

”Re-evaluate this;” gives Ian the finger.

”That an invitation?”

”Fuck you is what it is,”

“sounds like an invitation.”

That’s when a taxi pulls up and Ian walks toward it

Could use some help with these.

They ride in silence

They carry Ian’s instruments from the car, and Ian says something cute

Mickey’s like “Stop, hold this” giving Ian back the guitar, so he can grab on to him and kiss him, smiling against Ian lips as the guitar tips over and clatters on the asphalt.

They’re outside Ian’s house, Ian says he has to get up at an unholy hour tomorrow. Invites him in anyway.

There he asks Ian to play him something that other people don’t get to hear (mostly to be a cheeky monkey, but also because he wants it) and Ian plays him None the wiser.

I’ve walked a thousand miles to end up in your corner booth

Grinning idiot when you bitch, falling fool for your dirty mouth

Sitting on my busy hands when you swagger by and I say -

Hey waiter, pour some coffee in my cup and bring me my toast, before you fuck me up

I’ve been in some thousand fights and it’s clear that so have you, too

Faded threats and cigarettes, sharp glass polished by the sea

Wish you’d put your hands on me and make your feelings clear

Hey waiter

meet me ‘round the back door, tell me I’ve got it wrong and fuck me up some more

‘Cause I’ve fallen a thousand times but never felt this way before, like I should have met you long ago

Walked with you by my side and had your back through thick and thin

Sickness and health, come what may, and I say-

Hey waiter

pop the damn champagne

None the wiser

you fuck me up again

Hey waiter

tell me you’ll be mine

I’ll give you my life

and fuck you up in kind

I wish I was just a plain white shirt

then you could wear me off to work

and I’d be one of the things you keep close to your heart

soft white cotton wrapped around your heart

(Contrasts have faded now

but color still haunt my mind

And words ripped off from their lines

Make bitter tears flood my eyes

Don’t think I’ll stop my mourning

Don’t I know it’s overdue

Just because I’ve gotten older

None the wiser, I cry for you)

Honey, cutie, sweetie-pie

My darling boy, sweet old times

As long as I keep you in mind

I will remember what love is like

So, don’t think I’ll stop my mourning

Don’t I know it’s overdue

Just because I’ve gotten older

None the wiser, I cry for you

’Cause I always say ’I love you’

when I mean ’turn out the light’

And I say ’let’s run away’

when I just mean ’stay the night’

But the words you want to hear

you will never hear from me

I’ll never say ’happy anniversary’

Never stay to say ’happy anniversary’

Bom-chaka bom-chak 23 verses

And he climbed up a mountain

And he looked around

Some kind of forest

With all these dinosaurs

And he stripped his woman

He stripped her bare

But there was a pterodactyl

There!

#Anonymous

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN PROGRAMMERS

It's a todo list protocol, the new investor will take a chunk of the company being sold. These ideas didn't just seem small. Writing eval required inventing a notation representing Lisp functions as Lisp data, and such a notation was devised for the purposes of the paper with no thought that it would be used to express Lisp programs in practice. Isn't computer technology something that changes very rapidly? That doesn't mean people are getting angrier. After many email exchanges with Java hackers, I would say that. If we want to keep this option open, the best way to do this is through contacts. When fundraising is going well, investors are quick to sense it in your increased confidence. I am daily waiting for the line to collapse. Plus a company that would become big. Look in the mirror.

When we talk to them they seem grimly determined. It's a big advantage, when you're considering an idea like this is that when you have ideas, you'll be able to do in the new world we'll have in a few thousand, but those few thousand users. There's no real answer. How do you do? Similarly, since the most successful founders tend to work on ideas that few beside them realize are good. It was the usual story: he'd drop out if it looked like the startup was taking off. There must be things you need. People need to feel that what they create can't be stolen.

That is so much more distracting that I had to choose between the just-do-it model does have advantages. That's a known danger sign, like drinking alone. Cars aren't the worst thing you can say that they didn't have the courage of their convictions, and that email has to be more than a pretentious version of u r a fag.1 While the best way to get started in angel investing is to find a smoking gun, a passage in whatever you disagree with that you feel is mistaken, and then advertised this as a danger is that series A investors often make companies take more money than they have in the West. In America, if you want to buy us. So if you want to be on a larger scale than Youtube clips. One of the two founders was still in grad school. But that means each partner ends up being responsible for investing a lot of control over the rate at which you turn yours into a prepared mind, but you have less control over the rate at which you turn yours into a prepared mind. If learning breaks up into many little pieces, credentialling may separate from it. The other reason the number of big hits won't grow proportionately to the number of big hits is the number of temptations around you. If a startup succeeds, you get bad ones that sound dangerously plausible.

Where is the breakeven point? It would seem a misnomer if someone said they were very determined to do something, as Nike says, just do it.2 Why do you get so much email? Thousands of programmers were in a position where failure will be public and humiliating.3 We've done this five times now, and unlike other American companies, they're obsessed with good design. They're smart; they're working in a promising field; and they just cannot give up. For example, I'd tell myself I was only going to use the Internet twice a day. If you're in grad school, but it happens so often to varying degrees in large programming projects that there is an intersection—that there are good ideas that seem bad. To hundreds of thousands or in rare cases even millions.

One of my tricks for generating startup ideas is to ask what you wish someone would make for you? I must have been wasting. And in fact the two forces are related: the decreasing cost of starting a startup—becoming the sort of person, you have to be a good trick to look for things that seem to be closer to the Apple type than the Viaweb type. What about returns, though? The other reason the number of failures and yet leave you net ahead.4 If you work together with them on projects, you'll end up producing not just organic ideas, but organic ideas with organic founding teams—and that, empirically, is the best combination. Most people would agree it's more admirable to be good people, and so on.5

But if you talk to. What would it mean to disagree well? A lot of the reason is that the scariness of starting a startup in the old days, when Google was true to its own slightly aspy self. After 15 cycles of preparing startups for investors and then watching how they do, I can easily replace them. It may also be because if you start measuring something you start optimizing it, and they can choose those rare companies, like Google, or entering a market that looks small but which will turn out to be a large tumor.6 This works well in some fields and badly in others. Because you get a lot of them about halfway to Lisp.

And even if it weren't, compilers are the sort of person who has them. Most programmers wish they could start a startup, ask yourself: who wants this right now? Once they invest in a startup run by a couple of nobodies who are trying to squash them to keep their monopoly pricing. And if you're worried about threats to the survival of your company, don't look for a replacement for x. We take these for granted now, but only to have designed a new dialect of Lisp. 05, or 4. And so most of them happier. The way to get lots of referrals. Mostly because of the increasing number of early failures, the startup business of the future won't simply be the same shape.

Traditional journalism, for example, started angel investing about a year after me, and he was pretty much immediately as good as me at picking startups. Now everyone can, and we don't realize how lucky we are that it is briefer and more comprehensible than the description of a universal Turing machine. How do you do that you raise too many expectations. And only good people can ride the thermals if they hit them anyway. The pointy-haired boss right, for example. Another feeling that seems alarming but is in fact normal in a startup run by a couple grad students. The low points in a startup, ask yourself: who wants this right now? VCs are the way they want.7

Notes

Xkcd implemented a particularly clever one in a rice cooker and forget about it.

The expensive part of their upbringing in their graves at that. A scientist isn't committed to rejecting it. 5, they are like, and at least one of the techniques for stopping spam. Financing a startup to an employer, I had a big deal.

As willful people get serious about tax avoidance. Their opinion carries the same ones. At first I didn't need to be a big company CEOs in the trade press.

It also set off an extensive biography, and one different qualities that some of those you should seek outside advice, and only one restaurant left on the cover story of creation in the middle class values; it is still a dick move. But iTunes shows that they either have a competent startup lawyer handle the deal. This is everyday life in Palo Alto to have to track down.

And while it makes people feel good. I would take Abelson and Sussman's quote a number of words: I wouldn't bet against it either. All he's committed to believing in natural selection in the US in 2002 was 3.

Incidentally, Google may appear to be considered an angel round from good investors that they imitate even the best ways to avoid collisions in. And then of course.

Hypothesis: A company will either be a good product. Cook another 2 or 3 minutes, then they're not ready to invest at a discount of 30% means when it converts. Revenue will ultimately be hurting yourself, because investors already owned more than one who passes. As well as problems that have been five years ago they might have to give it additional funding at a discount to whatever the valuation of the decline in families eating together was due to the browser, the users' need has to convince limited partners.

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 15: Fright-day Night

(Halloween Special - from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which they play treasure hunt on Halloween again.

Word count: 7.1k

Chapter 14: For Better Or Worse - Harry and Niall have a guys night, Y/N starts showing, and Layla loves her wedding dress.

What to expect in this chapter: Baby’s gender (finally) AND the biggest crossover since The Avengers!!! (Jk)

For this chapter, the Flatmate characters will meet Eddie from My Girl (Bambi’s boss). If you want to read the alternative version in which they meet Thea (Bambi in the Wattpad version), CLICK HERE

Harry used to hate the smell of the hospital.

It reminded him of germs and sickness, and that one time he nearly died in a jet ski accident. But now that he was there so often, he'd gotten used to it. He thought he might even like it, because every time he and his wife were there, they would walk out with good news.

"I think it's a girl," Harry blurted while anxiously picking lint from his sleeve, his other hand was squeezing Y/N's. They were in the hospital's waiting room, but he already had a feeling that this might be the best day of his life.

"Why do you think so, baby?" she asked with a smile.

"Mum said if you were more into salty food, you were having a boy, and if it was a girl, then you ate lots of sweet things." He chuckled and nudged her nose with his own. "I just filled your snack drawer with sweets a few days ago, and this morning when I looked at it, it was almost empty!"

"The snack drawer was your idea!"

"Yeah, because you either woke me up at 3 AM asking me to fuck you, or to go out and buy you some sweets. Now that you have your snack drawer, I will only lose sleep for sex."

"God, you're such a teenager." Laughing and shaking her head, Y/N threaded a hand through his hair and said, "guess we'll find out if you're right in half an hour."

Half an hour felt like half a century to Harry. But once it was finally their turn, he thought he might just pass out. He didn't know it was possible to get more agitated than the last time they'd been there, but when he took the same seat and watched his wife lie down on the same examining table, his insides were on fire. It didn't matter what his baby's gender was, because he loved them and his wife, anyway. Still, he was holding his breath and couldn't ignore the shakiness in his limbs.

"Congratulations," said the woman who was rolling the scanning device on Y/N's tummy. "It's a girl."

Those three words coursed through Harry's ears like Adrenaline through his veins. He tingled from his head to his toes, wanting to jump, but he was glued to the chair and his feet were as stiff as a rock.

It's a girl, said the voice in his head. I'm having a baby girl.

Y/N was saying something to him, but all he heard was white noise, while the name was bouncing inside his head. It felt as if there was an explosion in his brain, the good sort, and it took him a few seconds to come back to reality.

"That's Asteria, baby," Y/N said, tears streaming from her eyes though she was laughing.

Harry sniffled as he brought her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles a few times. "Hi, Ria," he said to her baby bump. "Your dad is here."

"Congratulations! You are the lucky ones who got invited to our joint bachelor/bachelorette/Halloween party!" Layla raised her glass as if she was making a toast at her wedding, when in reality, she and her friends were sitting in a small cafe. "Thank you, my dear future husband, for coming up with this brilliant idea."

"I came up with it, actually—"

"Shut up, Harry," she snapped at the poor guy and shushed everyone who dared to snicker. "Anyway, where was I? Ahhh, the party. So this year, I'm—"

"We."

"We're bringing back our favorite tradition—"

As Layla immediately corrected herself after Niall had corrected her, the Irish man smugly wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, who looked slightly offended for the opposite reaction he'd received. Meanwhile, everyone else was already yawning.

"If she wrote a whole speech about the Halloween game one month prior, imagine how long her wedding vow would be," Louis whispered and fist-bumped Liam while Trix and Y/N were trying not to laugh.

Layla, however, was so passionate about her special party that she just kept going, "our annual Halloween game is back!" she exclaimed and clasped both hands in front of her chest. "It's called 'Fright-day Night'. And Louis will be the host!"

As everyone turned to Louis, who did a tiny bow as if he'd just won an Oscar, Layla added, "in case anyone else's wondering why I didn’t pick one of you, well, y'all fucking sucked."

"I guess I'll...take that as a compliment!" Louis uttered as the corners of his mouth turned up. "We'll have a Halloween party after the game, so make sure you have your costumes ready."

"Yes!" Layla chimed in before Louis could steal her spotlight. "Niall and I will also participate in the game, so we know nothing about the clues or the prizes or where the party will take place. Louis will take care of that. Our only job is to follow his rules and have fun!" She tapped her finger on her lips as the chatter began. "I guess I'm done. Anyone wanna add something?"

Harry raised his hand. "I have something important to announce."

"Put your hand down, Harold. Nothing is more important than my—"

"We've just found out the baby gender."

"Oh my God, what?!" Layla shouted and everyone in the cafe snapped their heads to look at her. She appeared as if she'd seen gold when she turned to Y/N. "Bitch, you should've told me first!"

"Sorry, I was afraid you'd tell everyone else." Y/N smiled. "We wanted to tell you guys ourselves."

"Just tell me now, am I an uncle or an aunt?!" Niall blurted and quickly shook his head when everyone gave him questioning looks. "No, I mean—God! You know what I mean!"

Harry puffed out his chest and cleared his throat. "It's Asteria!"

"Yes!" Layla jumped out of her seat and smacked Liam on the back. "You owed me twenty."

"You made a bet on our baby girl?!"

"Yes!" She giggled despite the look on Harry's face and took the money from Liam, who seemed pretty bitter about losing. "I'm not surprised that I won though. I knew it all along that it was Asteria. I'm her Godmother after all."

"Aunt."

"Godmother. Deal with it." She gave Harry the finger and went on, "by the way, I'm calling her Teri. It's gonna be a special thing between Godmother Layla and baby Asteria, so none of you bitches is allowed to call her that."

"Did she just call dibs on our daughter?" Harry whispered to Y/N, who simply laughed and told him Layla was just kidding.

Fall went as quickly as it had arrived. There was only one more day until Halloween.

Layla had gathered the whole group at the same cafe, "so Louis could briefly give us instructions about the game," she had said. But everyone knew it was only an excuse for her to open a discussion about what everyone was going to wear so no two of them would show up in the same costume, "for the group aesthetics," she reasoned.

"Niall and I will be Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday," she cheerfully said, sitting with her back straight and arms crossed on the table, as if she was really princess Ann in the movie. "That means none of you losers can be Audrey Hepburn or a princess. Except for Y/N."

"Why?" Trix pouted.

"Because she's pregnant with my Goddaughter."

"Harry and I will be Flynn Rider and Rapunzel," Y/N said and Trix was smiling again.

"Ooh! The other day I was just telling Liam that you two reminded me of Flynn Rider and Rapunzel because—"

"Um, I have a question," Harry cut her off, raising his hand. "What are Jack and Gemma doing here?"

"Harry!"

"What?" He flinched as his wife swatted at his chest and everyone was laughing.

"I'm one of the bridesmaids. Why can't I be here?" Gemma gave him a shrug, arching an eyebrow.

Jack, who was sitting next to her, spoke fast, "Layla told me to come. I have no idea what's going on."

"Well, young Johnny Depp, you are invited to my bachelorette/bachelor/Halloween party because we need an even number of players to play the Halloween game."

"Or we can just not include Gemma." Harry lifted his shoulders in a half shrug and this time it was Gemma who swatted him.

Niall suddenly leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Layla is obsessed with Gemma, so if I were you, I'd shut up before I got uninvited to the wedding."

"I can't get uninvited, I'm the best man."

"Maybe we don't need a best man," Layla said, and Harry gasped, turning to Niall.

"Sorry, mate." Niall pursed his lips unapologetically. "You've chosen Y/N over me many times before."

"You're kidding."

Y/N shushed the boys and started stroking Harry's hair, knowing it'd turn him to a quiet little puppy.

Now that peace had been restored, Louis turned to Jack and Gemma. "Okay, I'm just going to explain again. Every year back in college, we would get together on Halloween for a game of treasure hunt. Each year, we took turns being the host who would come up with clues, the prizes, and the rules of the game. This time, I will be the host. The game is pretty simple. I'll divide you into two teams, and—"

"Wait, we don't get to randomly draw out our team?"

"No, Liam. Harry would cheat again so he could be with Y/N."

"I didn't cheat!"

"Yes, you did," Layla chimed in. "Liam saw you!"

"I did." Liam confirmed. "But I shipped you two so I didn't say anything."

"See? Cheater!" Layla grumbled as Harry flashed a peace sign at her, unapologetically.

"Okay guys, let me finish and you can roast Harry later," said Louis who rolled his eyes in frustration. "So where was I? Aaaah, the teams. Yes, there will be two teams, four persons each. You will find out which team you're in tomorrow night. And I will give each team different clues, the treasure this year is the Halloween party. You find the party, you win."

"Sounds simple." Y/N leaned back in her chair, hands on her belly. "Where are we going to play the game this year?"

"I don't wanna spoil the surprise," Louis told them with a mischievous smile.

"The cemetery?!"

Folding his arms, Louis chuckled at the way Layla's jaw fell open as she looked around the spooky graveyard. Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence, and in this starless misty night, the place looked like a sea of the dead. This could be the opening scene of a classic horror movie, in which a group of stupid people got murdered in a graveyard for playing a stupid Halloween game.

"If I'd known we would play in a cemetery, I would have dressed up as something else to match the aesthetic!" Layla huffed as she smoothed down her skirt.

"What's the point? You're gonna lose, anyway."

"Shut up, you stupid alien!" she glowered at Liam, who couldn't look more offended by the name.

"I am not an alien!" he objected, pointing to his hat. "I'm a space cowboy!"

"Guys, don't yell. Ria has ears now," Harry said as he hugged his wife from behind, hands on her tummy.

Appalled, Trix pointed to Y/N. "If you're Rapunzel then where's your wig?"

"It was itchy, so I took it off," Y/N explained as she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at her pink dress. "But you could still tell that I'm Rapunzel, right?"

"You look just like her," Jack said with a smile, and instinctively, Harry held his wife closer, not even giving her boss the second glance.

Jack was dressed as Jack Dawson, but Harry knew it was him who was the original Jack Dawson. In fact, he was Jack Dawson when he won the game with his wife. This wasn't a competition but Harry thought he'd already won.

"I'm Red Riding Hood," Trix said. "In case anyone's wondering."

"No, we're not wondering. You're literally wearing a red cloak, Trix."

"Layla, don't be mean to Trix," Louis spoke, turning all heads back to him.

"What are you supposed to be?" Liam asked.

"Alastor Mad-Eye Moody from Harry Potter," he said proudly and adjusted his fake eye. "Probably the coolest costume here."

"You wish," Layla spat, rolling her eyes. "No one could beat Audrey."

The group chatted for a bit while waiting for Gemma, who showed up last. She apologized for being late because she'd had to clean pumpkin guts from her car window. "Typical Halloween prank by the kids in the neighborhood," she said.

"Princess Leia!" Liam exclaimed, pointing to Gemma's space buns.

"Um, yeah." The older Styles chuckled. "Sorry, Layla. I got this costume before you said—"

"No, no, it's totally fine!" Layla shook her head quickly. "That iconic hairstyle totally suits you!"

"Wait, why do all the girls get to be princesses except for me?!"

"Don't worry, Trix," Harry said, pointing to her heart. "Every woman is a princess in here."

"Okay, can Princess Leia or the space cowboy shoot Flynn Rider right now?"

Harry extended his middle finger toward Layla and everyone dissolved in laughter.

Clearing his throat loudly, Louis got all eyes back on him and pulled out a little box from his leather satchel. The box contained eight pieces of paper, each folded in half, on which a player's name was written. "Take the one with your name," he said. "Okay, now open it. Those who see the word 'red' go to my left. Those with 'blue' go to my right."

Harry, Layla, Gemma, and Liam went to the left. Y/N, Niall, Jack, and Trix went to the right.

"Yay! We're on the same team!" Layla squealed as she saw Gemma, who gave the girl an awkward grin, not knowing why Layla was so obsessed with her.

"Harold!" Louis shouted, making Harry and Niall flinch. "Do not switch with Niall this time! I know what color you are!"

"What?! I wasn't gonna do anything!"

"Then step away from the Irish boy!"

Groaning, Harry shoved both hands in his pockets and took a few steps back, frowning at Y/N and Jack on the opposite side. Louis then handed each team another piece of paper. "This is your first clue. It will take you to the next place where the second clue is hidden. Get your cars ready and I'll see you at the party."

As soon as Louis wished them good luck and walked away, Y/N opened her team's first clue and read the riddle aloud to the other members. "There's a man with a crooked smile, his round face is scarred with a knife."

It only took her two seconds to snap her head up to look at Jack. "Jack-o'-lantern!" they said at the same time.

"That one's easy! Let's go find one."

Niall grabbed the hood of Trix's cloak before she could run off without them. "Hold your horses, Red. Every house has one of those, it's Halloween."

Jack nodded to agree. "Maybe it's not an actual Jack-o'-lantern. Louis did say'a place', didn't he?"

"Right!" Y/N exclaimed as she tugged at his sleeve. "There's a small Halloween night market for tourists called Spooky Pumpkins. It's only a five-minute drive from here."

"Great! Let's go!" Trix said as she skipped ahead, and the others quickly followed.

"They're leaving!" Layla whined, stomping her feet like an angry little girl, but nobody on her team paid attention to her.

"Help us think and we'll be able to catch up with them!" said Liam while Harry and Gemma were still analyzing the riddle.

"It's Halloween, we're all afraid. Take your time, but don't be late," Gemma read it aloud once again as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"What the hell does it mean?"

Harry shushed Liam immediately and turned to his sister. "Gem?"

"Take your time," Gemma mumbled as she scrunched up her face. "Take your time, but don't be late. Take your time...don't be—"

"A clock!" Harry snapped his fingers. "This must refer to a clock."

"How are we gonna find a clock in a cemetery, genius?"

"Not here, genius." He glowered at Liam. "Louis said this clue would take us to another place."

"So...clock...Big Ben?" Layla asked.

"No, too far from here." Gemma shook her head. "It has to be somewhere near because it's only the first clue. We have to think smaller."

"There's a vintage clock shop near here. It only takes five minutes to drive there," Liam said and the others all agreed with him.

"Come on, let's go!"

As Harry motioned everyone to follow him and walked ahead of the group, Gemma gave Layla a nudge. "This is about Jack, right?"

"Yup." Layla nodded. "He becomes a dictator when he's jealous. But hey, we can always kill him after we've won."

"I heard that!"

Laughing, she shouted back at Harry, "I wanted you to!"

Y/N hated night markets.

She hated being surrounded by too many strangers. She hated it when someone bumped into her or stepped on her feet and didn't apologize. She hated the distinct voices and laughter as they gave her anxiety and a headache. Being at a night market on its busiest night was a Halloween nightmare coming true. It wasn't really a phobia for Y/N, but it was close, and so she didn't want to be obvious about how uncomfortable she was. She had scared Jack enough when they were stuck in a lift last year. Unfortunately, it wasn't hard to tell that something was bothering her as she was walking so close to his side, basically attached to him.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." She looked up to give him a reassuring grin and changed the subject, "don't you have other plans on Halloween night?"

"I don't even have plans on regular nights."

His answer made her snort. "I mean, working plans. I know you don't hang like the rest of us."

"You said it like it's a bad thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. "But I'm hanging with the rest of you now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, why is that, I wonder?"

"I have a soft spot for you, not gonna lie," Jack answered without thinking, and when he noticed the look on her face, he laughed it off and added, "you're like a little sister to me. That's what I meant."

"Oh? Should I take that as a compliment?" She smiled, and he gave her a shrug.

"Many people would kill to be considered my sister. You're lucky."

Y/N let out a slight laugh as she playfully pushed his shoulder. Before either of them could say anything else, Niall jumped out from nowhere and walked right in the middle. "So..." He threw an arm over Y/N's shoulders, grinning. "What were you talking about?"

Y/N was trying her best not to laugh. "Harry tell you to—"

"Guys?" Trix's voice cut her off. All three of them paused and turned around to find Trix panting as she finally kept up with them. "Shouldn't we stop and look for clues? Why do we keep on walking?"

"We are looking for clues," Y/N said. "We need to find a pumpkin-carving knife."

"Oh, that's very specific."

She immediately shot Niall a glare. "If I want sarcasm, I would rather have Harry on this team."

"Yeah. I miss that sarcastic asshole." Niall sighed.

"Hey, where is Trix?"

Jack's question got both of them to turn their heads, but Trix wasn't there anymore. It was like she had vanished into thin air.

"Trix? Where are you?!"

"Calm down, Y/N. She's probably—"

"Trix?!" Y/N ignored Jack and called louder.

"I'm here, Y/N!"

"Trix!" Y/N let go of a harsh breath and dashed toward the girl. "Where were you going?! Stay close to us, okay?"

"Look what I've found!"

Everyone jumped back when Trix pointed a knife at them.

"Woah! Be careful with that!" Niall hissed, making the girl giggle.

"Chill. I'm not gonna stab you! I'm not Layla! Look!"

Y/N was the one who stepped forward and took the knife from Trix. She peered at the shiny blade to read the tiny words written in permanent ink.

"The paper monsters under your bed, come from the lands inside your head."

Niall's eyes brightened as Y/N handed him the knife. "Our second clue!"

"Well done, Trix!" Jack said, giving Trix the thumbs up. The girl was so proud of her achievement that she couldn't stop bouncing up and down.

"I was just following the guy in the pumpkin mask with the Harry Potter scar and I asked him about the second clue."

"Okay, that was smart. Louis was dressed up as a character from Harry Potter, so it must've been a hint. But it was also dangerous to follow a guy in a mask," Y/N said as she held onto Trix's shoulder. "Do not follow guys in masks, okay? Not when it's night and you're alone. And definitely not on Halloween."

"Oh, okay." Trix batted her eyelashes and gave her an innocent smile.

"Guys, our second clue?" Niall spoke as he waved the knife to get the others' attention. "Any idea what it's trying to say?"

"Should we look under a bed?"

"I don't think 'bed' is our keyword, Trix," said Jack as he took the knife from Niall and reread the riddle a few more times. "Hmm, paper monsters from the lands inside your head..."

"How did Lou come up with these clues!" Y/N cried out, making Niall cackle.

"The dude literally makes a living from designing computer games so..."

"I used to have monsters under my bed," Trix suddenly spoke. "My mother had to read me Alice in Wonderland every night to chase the monsters away."

"Wait, that's it!" Jack's whole face lit up. "Books! We need to find the closest bookstore."

"Paper monsters from the lands inside your head!" Y/N gasped. "Why didn't I think of that? This must refer to horror fiction."

"Yup, horror or fantasy," Jack said with a small smile. "What's the closest bookstore here?"

"I know one! Let's go!" Y/N gestured with a thumb, and the rest hurriedly followed her.

Harry blew out his cheeks as he read the text from Niall and put his phone away. "They've solved their second clue," he told the others.

"Have you been texting with the enemy?" Layla, who was in the backseat with Liam, grumbled at him.

"It's just Niall."

"My husband and your wife are our enemies now. Stop communicating with them."

"Guys, we're here," Gemma announced as she parked the car on the side of the road, in front of their first stop.

The clock shop was so small it blended right in with the rest of the street, probably the reason Harry had driven by it plenty of times yet he had never once noticed it before. He was the first to enter, and the rest followed him in a line because the door wasn't big enough for them to walk through at once.

The place had that spooky charm, it was dull and quiet, no other sound but the chaotic ticking of the clocks. It was exactly how Harry imagined inside a madhouse would sound like.

"Hi, may I help you?" an old lady greeted them at the entrance. In this terrible lightning of the place, her teeth looked yellow and crooked and her face was as pale as a corpse. Layla and Liam were quick to hide behind the Styles and let them do all the talking.

"Hi ma'am..." Harry stepped up to shake her hand. "This may sound stupid but...we're playing this game and we have to solve riddles to—"

"Are you friends with the short skinny boy Lewis?"

"Louis."

"Yes." The lady smiled and adjusted her small glasses. "I love that boy, he comes over to keep me company whenever he's free. Who knew his friends were also such beautiful people. You, young man, look just like a prince."

"Thanks, ma'am." Harry chuckled nervously as she pinched his cheeks. "D-do you mind if we...um...look around?"

"Not at all, dear. Go ahead," said the old lady.

The four of them split to search for their next clues. They checked every corner of the store, and the lady let them do whatever they wanted and take as much time as they needed. When Layla found the piece of paper attached to one of the clocks, the old woman had already fallen asleep in her rocking chair.

"The witch has got a brand new nose, look where she would keep her clothes."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "A witch? Does any of you happen to know a witch?"

"Or someone with a brand new nose," Liam chuckled.

"And a lot of clothes..." Gemma said.

And all three of them turned to look at Layla, whose mouth fell open. "What?! I'm not the witch!"

Liam immediately took a step back to keep a safe distance from Layla before he said, "you got a nose job last year and you'd rather die than be seen wearing the same dress twice. So, yeah..."

"Do you guys call me a witch when I'm not around?"

"Yes."

Layla shot Harry a death glare and his mouth immediately snapped shut.

"Do you live near here?" Gemma asked, and Layla shook her head. "Then it can't be Layla. We don't have much time until midnight so these places must be close to each other."

"Layla's shop is just two blocks away," Harry said as he rolled up his sleeves. "I don't think the clue refers to her closet, because Louis couldn't have broken into her house and hidden stuff in her closet, right? It must be her clothing shop."

"Fuck!" Layla suddenly raised her voice and had to double-check if she'd woken up the lady. Turning back to them, she whispered, "yesterday he told me he was there to buy clothes for his sisters! That sneaky son of a bitch!"

"Okay, that's it! That's our next clue!" Harry said as he checked the time on one of the clocks. "Let's go! If we don't hurry up, Jack will win!"

"Did he say 'Jack' instead of 'they'?" Liam asked, watching Harry bolt to the entrance without waiting for anyone.

"Yup, get used to it," Gemma and Layla said at the same time.

Y/N had been to this bookstore twice with Harry. It wasn't so far from where they used to live back in college. Coming here tonight, she was expecting to see the old lady who always gave her discounts because she adored Y/N and Harry's relationship, but sadly, the lady wasn't there anymore. Instead, they met a young man who looked like he could still be a student.

"Sorry, we're closed," he said, about to turn off the last light when Jack stepped in anyway.

"It says 'open until midnight'." Jack pointed to the chalkboard by the entrance, but the employee gave him a shrug.

"Well, I've got only two employees, very lazy ones, and they didn't even bother to show up tonight."

"Wait, you're the owner of the store?" Trix asked.

"Why's it a surprise?"

"You look like a teenager..."

"Trix," Y/N warned her friend before turning back to the angry man, looking at his name tag. "Eddie, can we just look around for a minute? Um...it's kind of important. Please?"

Eddie seemed reluctant as he eyed them up and eventually drew in a long breath. "Fine. Only because you're polite."

Y/N happily thanked Eddie and followed him into the store. As he turned all the lights back on, Jack and Y/N hurried to the fantasy section while Niall and Trix went to the horror section. Dust collected everywhere as far as they could see. Jack and Y/N had to cover their noses and mouths as they looked through the dirtied shelves and stands.

"How can you work in a place like this?" Y/N asked, glancing at Eddie, who was watching them with his arms dangling at his sides.

"Well, I don't have a choice. It's family business." He hung his head and mumbled, "if only I'd stayed in college..."

"There's a book called 'I have sex with an alien'?" Jack said, making Y/N laugh as she took it and checked the front and back cover.

"I think one of my two employees hid it at the back so no one could see and buy it," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, do whatever you want, I need to make a phone call."

When he was gone, Jack immediately turned to Y/N. "I would really love to meet those girls," he whispered, and Y/N nodded.

"Me too."

"Hey, guys!"

"Jesus, Niall!" Y/N smacked Niall with the book, causing him to jump away. "Stop doing that!"

"Sorry!" Niall rubbed the sore spot on his arms, his face contorted. "I just wanted to say Trix and I found the clue."

"Where?!"

Trix showed up, holding a book and an iPhone 5. "We found these on the top shelf."

"The Haunting Of Hill House," Y/N read the title before looking up and beaming at her friends. "Good job, guys! We're so gonna win!"

"Well, what's on the phone?" Jack asked, and Niall gave him a half shrug.

"Don't know. It requires a passcode to unlock."

"Wait, there's a bookmark." Y/N ranked her fingers through her hair, tucked it behind her ear and then opened the book to where it was marked. On the page was a highlighted sentence that said, 'Journey ends in lovers meeting.'

"That's Shakespeare," Jack pointed out.

"Maybe Shakespeare is the passcode."

"No, it's numbers, Trix." Niall exhaled as he rubbed his chin. "Try Shakespeare's birthday or death day."

Y/N was about to pull out her phone to go on Google, but Jack already entered those numbers.

"No, it's not it," he said, shaking his head and looked up to find the other three gawking at him.

"You know Shakespeare's birthday and death day?" Y/N questioned with her eyes wide.

With a cheeky grin, he smirked. "Well, don't you?"

"Please marry me," Trix blurted, and Jack's startled reaction to her 'proposal' sent both Y/N and Niall into hysterics.

Meanwhile, the other team had just found their third clue in one of the coats in Layla's store.

"Well done, Liam!" Gemma said as she unfolded the piece of paper and read the riddle aloud, "There's a princess in disguise. To find your next clue, just follow the light."

"A princess in disguise?" Gemma raised an eyebrow at Layla. "That's you, right? Princess Anne was in disguise so she could walk around Rome freely."

"It can't be Layla twice. The host is Louis, not Niall," Harry commented, making Layla roll her eyes.

"If Niall was the host, I'd be the princess and Louis would be the witch," she grumbled with her arms crossed over her chest. "Well? If the princess in disguise isn't me then who?"

"Who else could be the princess?"

"Gemma."

"A princess but not in disguise," Gemma corrected Liam.

"Princess Leia was disguised as Boush once."

"I'm not wearing a Boush costume, aren't I?"

As the two continued to argue over Star Wars facts, Harry was still mumbling to riddle and trying to solve it on his own. "Follow the light..." He pinched his bottom lip, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "The light...I see the light...and at last, I see the light! Yes!"

Everyone looked at him as he punched the air. "Tangled! It's Tangled! The princess is Rapunzel!"

"Y/N?!" Gemma smacked her forehead.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes sparkled with joy. "My wife is the motherfucking princess in disguise. She is our clue!"

"But she's on the other team," Liam said, shaking his head.

Layla thought for a moment before she raised a finger. "Maybe Louis wants us to meet."

"Yes! We have to go now! Let's go!" Harry was about to run toward the entrance when Gemma grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to them. "Not so fast, Eugene. We don't know where she is."

"Oh, shit! You're right!" he said and pulled out his phone. "I'll text her."

Gemma gave him a nod to approve. "But don't tell her she's the next clue. Not until we get there."

"Harry just asked me where we are."

"Why are you texting with the enemy?" Niall asked when she showed them the message. Jack, on the other hand, straightened at once.

"Journey ends in lovers meeting." He stared at Y/N intensely. "That's it. You're supposed to meet Harry again and Niall is supposed to meet Layla. That's how this game ends. We're supposed to meet the other team."

"Maybe Harry got a similar clue and he knows we have to meet," Niall said.

Trix gave a slight shrug. "Or he just misses her."

"No, Harry's very competitive," Y/N said, shaking her head. "Jack's right. He wants something from us. Should I let him know we're here?"

"Do it," Jack said and stepped closer to watch her type down the message. "But don't let him know anything about our clue. Wait until they get here."

"When did this place become the tourist attraction?!" Eddie cried out as he watched another group barge into his bookstore.

Harry walked straight toward his wife and gave her a hug. And when Eddie saw him, his eyes went wide. "Hey, has anyone told you that you look like—"

"We don't have time for meet and greet!" Niall interrupted the man and pulled Harry and Y/N apart, pointing a finger to his best friend's face. "No touching until you tell us why you're here."

"He's right. Show us your clue."

"Wow, so this is how it's gonna be, huh?" Harry chuckled as his wife extended her hand toward him, palm up.

"We're still playing the game. Hand me your clue," she demanded.

Harry shoved his hand into his pocket, but Layla stopped him right away, pulling him to the side by his elbow. "Show me yours first," she said, her nose stuck up.

"Guys, I don't know what this is about, but you have one hour until midnight," said Eddie, who patiently checked his watch and blew out his cheeks.

Given no other choice, Y/N pulled out the phone. "We found a phone which requires a passcode. And the clue is a Shakespeare's quote: 'Journey ends in lovers meeting.'"

"Can I have it?" Harry asked and Y/N handed him the device. Everyone went silent as they waited for him to enter the passcode.

"It worked!" He cheered, raising a fist. "I'm in!"

"It worked?!" Layla slapped a hand over her mouth as Niall jumped in joy.

"Holy shit! What?! What's the passcode?"

"Y/N's birthday." Harry grinned at his wife. "Our clue was a princess in disguise and it told us to follow the light."

"Ha. I see the light. Classic." Y/N giggled and pulled Harry's head down to kiss him on the cheek. "My husband is so smart."

"Skip the sentimental bits. We don't have much time left." Layla smacked Harry on the arm, causing him to hiss and jump away. Stealing stole the phone from her brother, Gemma quickly went through the few apps on the home screen.

"Okay. The photo roll is empty. Messages. Empty. Notes. Empty."

"Try recording," Layla spoke, and Gemma tapped on the recording app.

"There's one recording!"

"Yes, wife!" Niall wrapped his arms around Layla and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "You're the best!"

"Is this the 'I love my wife' club now? Can the rest of us leave?" Liam joked, making everyone laugh as Layla shot him a death glare.

Gemma immediately shushed them all so she could play the recording. The first few seconds were nothing but silence, but then they heard Louis' voice. He said, "you're almost there, just look for white. Enter the room and claim your prize."

And it ended.

"That was it?" Layla scoffed as she exchanged looks with Y/N. "Look for white?!"

"Yes, that's the keyword," Gemma breathed. "White. What does the color white remind you of?"

"Snow?"

"It's Halloween, not Christmas, Liam!"

"You haven't watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, haven't ya?" Eddie spoke and Layla yelled at him to stay out of this.

While everyone was arguing with each other, Y/N subtly pulled Niall aside and whispered to him, "go get your car and wait for us outside."

Though confused, Niall trusted Y/N, so he didn't question her and just snuck out when nobody wasn't looking.

"White, hmm..." Layla trailed off as she shuffled her feet, one arm folded, the other rubbing her chin. "Treasure?"

"Treasure?" Harry chortled. "Our cat?"

"Yup."

Liam and Trix snickered at her answer, but Gemma and Jack were poker-faced.

"No, Layla's got a point," Jack said. "Louis did say the treasure is the party."

"Shit!" Harry cried out, holding his head. "Treasure is with Nam and Nam told me he'd taken tonight off to be with Ben. Treasure is at Ben's place! That's where the party is!"

Gemma groaned as she stomped her foot. "Why didn't I think of that? He gave us the final clue right from the beginning!"

Harry's team hadn't had time to react to the big discovery when his wife and her team shot right through the door. Niall's car was waiting outside, and they drove away in a matter of seconds. It took the others a moment to realize what was happening and all of them dashed off, not accepting defeat.

As the door fell shut in front of his eyes, Eddie was frozen, completely flabbergasted. He needed a minute to process everything and quickly pulled out his phone to make a call.

"Mum? Can you pick me up? I think I just met a cult."

"If we lose because we couldn't find a parking spot, I'd be so pissed," Layla panted as she chased after the others into the building right when Y/N's team was heading toward the lift. The two sides only shared one hostile look as the door opened, and the old lady in the lift was horrified when they all ran toward her. Harry was much faster. He almost got there when he heard Niall shouted, "stop! You're hurting Y/N!" which stopped him immediately.

"Which one of you fucking pushed her—"

"Sucker!" Niall pushed Harry aside, took Y/N's hand and pulled her into the lift with Jack and Trix. It took Harry nearly a second to realize he'd been fooled, but by the time he and the others got to the lift, it had gone to the next floor.

"We can just press the emergency button to stop it!" Liam said, looking frantically from left to right. "Is there one out here?!"

"Don't be fucking crazy. Y/N is afraid of small spaces!" Harry glowered at Liam as he crossed his arms and took a deep breath.

"Now what?" Gemma asked.

"Well, now we...wait for the lift."

"Niall James Horan!" was the first thing Layla shouted when she burst through the door into Ben's flat. She stormed right past the party guests who were clapping for her and grabbed Niall by the arm. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

All eyes followed Niall as he was dragged away, until Louis got up on a table and screamed, "party!" And everyone was cheering again.

"Let's hope they won't break up before the wedding," Trix said, but Liam only laughed.

"The only thing that they'll break tonight is a bed."

"Ew, gross!" Gemma cringed, pushing him away.

"Hey, there's a bar!" Jack exclaimed, making Gemma squeal in elation.

"Wanna get a drink?" she asked.

"Yes, please." He tossed his head back and sighed in relief.

The music was earsplittingly loud. Neon lights flashed everywhere like police sirens, but much more colorful. Harry guessed Ben wasn't kidding when he said he'd go all out with parties. Pushing his way through a room full of people, Harry finally got to where his wife was sitting with Ben and Nam on the couch. Treasure was lying on her lap. The cat was wearing a party hat that said 'I am the Treasure.'

"Punny." Harry chuckled, shaking his head.

When Y/N looked up and saw him, she was overjoyed. She handed the cat to Ben and got to her feet to give him a passionate kiss.

"I'm sorry you lost, baby," she said, nudging his nose with her own as she held his face.

He secured his arms around her waist, smiling against her lips. "Liar, you're not sorry."

"No, I'm so not," she admitted, kissing him. Again, and again, and again...

It was an exciting night, a great party, but it was over too soon for the married couple. They had decided to leave early because they feared loud music would affect their baby girl. The others were way too tipsy to see them sneak out, anyway. Layla and Niall were dancing on the table, apparently enjoying their last night before being married. Liam and Louis were hitting on some girls while Gemma and Jack were karaoke-ing with Nam and Ben. What a beautiful ending for the longest night ever, Harry thought.

"I can't believe the prize was 'friendship'! The only thing this game did was tear us apart!" Harry grumbled as he carried the cat to the lift and pressed the down button. "Baby?"

Turning back, he found Y/N standing still and staring at the door to their old flat. "I miss it, H," she said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, so do I..." He walked over to where she stood, sucking in a breath. "It's been so long."

"I wonder who lives here now."

"Wanna find out?"

"Wait!" She grabbed his wrist before he could ring the doorbell. "We could just ask Ben!"

"What's the fun in that?" Harry said and pressed the doorbell, anyway.

"What the hell, Harry?! We don't know them!"

"Relax, babe. We can just say we got the wrong flat number."

Harry had just finished the sentence, and the door creaked open. The first thing they saw was a face as white as a sheet. They both screamed, causing 'the face' to scream, and the two of them screamed again as they sprinted to the lift the second it arrived.

Breath busting in and out, the woman peeled off her sheet mask and cursed at the crazy couple now that they were gone.

"Aunt Lynn? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It was just some Halloween pranksters," she said to the person on the phone. "Anyway, tell your boyfriend I said hi."

*Ending explanation for those who don’t read My Girl*: The woman who’s living in the flatmate babies’ old flat is also a character from My Girl - The MC’s aunt. :)

#flatmate!harry

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austennerdita2533 · 4 years

Note

I'm so happy that you love Folklore too! It's not just my favorite Taylor Swift album, but easily one of by favorite albums, full stop :) Here's a fun challenge: which Folklore songs remind you of a certain ship? So is there a Folklore song that makes you think of literati? Another one that makes you think of a Grey's ship? A third that makes you think of Elizabeth/Darcy? A fourth that reminds you of Klaroline and - I'll shut up, you get the idea :) Pick any Folklore songs/ships you want!

Taylor Swift’s latest album is a masterclass of musical poetry and storytelling. Rarely do I download every song a musician puts out on a new album (I tend to pick and choose), but I can genuinely say I never hit DOWNLOAD so fast in my life before than I did with Folklore! I love all sixteen tracks! I’ve been listening to them on a loop for two days straight and I imagine that’s likely to continue for the foreseeable future.

Also, YASSS! That is a fun challenge! It’s also one I can manage because I’ve been thinking about how certain songs/lyrics apply to many of my ships since I first started listening anyway. Prepare yourself. This is gonna be long. 😁

Okay SO, for Literati...

If I’m angling to lean into s3-s6 angst that was Rory and Jess at that point in the OG series, then I’d say the 1 is a good fit. That song has the same energy as someone who’s writing a goodbye letter to a loved one that will never be sent. It’s cleansing. Cathartic. An exorcism of feeling. It absolutely reeks of regret and longing with just a touch of look-back-over-your-shoulder-and-wish, just wish, that things could have been different:

“But we were something, don't you think so?”

“And if my wishes came true It would've been you“

“But it would've been fun If you would've been the one”

However, if I’m in more of a They’ll Come Back to Each Other mood with Literati then I think this is me trying screams Rory and Jess. That song emanates nostalgia! It’s haunting in tone (with the echoes, with some slight vibrato). The lyrics bleed with feeling, with emotion that should have rusted long ago but hasn’t. Love is still as red as it was at the beginning of everything only now...only now there’s realization and an attempt at atonement for past mistakes...

“I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway“

It's hard to be anywhere these days When all I want is you You're a flashback in a film reel On the one screen in my town (the town, of course, made me think of Stars Hollow)

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying At least I'm trying

For Darcy and Elizabeth, I think seven works well for them in spots. If you listen to the song, there’s a little bit of an echoey timber to the way Taylor sings it and that gave me the sense of how classic love stories/literature kind of ripple across time, you know? How the pages may crinkle or yellow over the years, but they still leave their mark. Plus, there’s also the piano in the background. Almost feather light. It mixes with what sounds like violins in places. Idk, it has a slight P&P 2005 vibe about it to me:

“Please picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility” >> (Because did Darcy learn civility before or after Lizzie eviscerated him mid-proposal at Rosings? Did Lizzie learn to temper her prejudice before or after Lydia ran away with Wickham?)

“Passed down like folk songs Our love lasts so long“ >> (Elizabeth says herself she’s going to be happier than Jane because “[she] laughs; [her sister] only smiles.”)

I have a couple for Klaroline, too. hoax jumped out at me for them first because it’s layered with darkness and angst. The imagery pops. It’s all smoking guns and eclipsed suns and screaming on cliffsides; which, for a pair of supernaturals, and for an Original who has a history of leaving blood in his wake, I think some visuals of misery and violence are a fitting thing. I’m also obsessed with the piano in this. The way she strokes her fingers over the keys - quick tap, tap, taps then a slow one or two in places - gives you a sense of running. It’s a great parallel to her lyric about “sleepless nights.” Here are some other Klaroline-heavy lyrics in this song:

“You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart But what you did was just as dark Darling, this was just as hard As when they pulled me apart” >> (This whole section just booms with “I’ve shown kindness. Forgiveness. Pity. For you, Caroline It was all for you” energy.)

“Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do“

peace is the other song that had me crying in Klaroline. I like the softness of it, the vulnerability. I imagine it more from Klaus’s perspective, though, because it strikes me as more confessional in nature. Like it’s a revelation that’s being dragged across his teeth and he wants to scream. Almost as if these aren’t necessarily feelings he wants to share, or wants known, but there’s just no holding them back now. He’s thrown off the lid. Caroline needs to be able to walk toward him with her eyes wide open, so he only speaks truth, he only speaks honesty now. Similar to hoax, this song has darker imagery as well. There’s fire and fences and trenches and all that jazz:

“Your integrity makes me seem small You paint dreamscapes on the wall“ >> (Same energy as “you’re strong, beautiful, full of light.”)

“And you know that I'd Swing with you for the fences Sit with you in the trenches” >> (basically a promise that he’d fight FOR her and WITH her)

“But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret“ >> (THIS IS THE PART THAT HITS ME THE MOST BC so much of Klaus’s love is shown not spoken, so yeah, he dies for her in secret all. the. time. already. There are 5 other ways I could interpret that as well. But I will spare you haha)

“The devil's in the details

“Would it be enough If I could never give you peace?” >>With supernatural enemies everywhere, there won’t be much peace, will there?

I get walloped with Braime/Jaime and Brienne feels every time I listen to epiphany. Like, it’s actually rude how much this song makes me think of them. I can close my eyes and hear their swords clanging, taste the blood of their injuries on my tongue; feel the ash claw their throats, sting their eyes. Just--ah! The two of them serving, fighting back-to-back, two knights with an unspoken oath to protect a love they haven’t even voiced out loud yet...*cries*

“Only twenty minutes to sleep But you dream of some epiphany Just one single glimpse of relief To make some sense of what you've seen

“With you, I serve With you, I fall down Down Watch you breathin' Watch you breathin' out Out“

invisible strings makes me think of Shirbert/Anne and Gilbert. I love the pluck of guitar strings and how it has this air of innocence and sunshine and green grasses about it even though it’s being told/sung from a hilltop of experience. There’s so much imagery in this song, so much color and figurative language, that I can’t help but think it’s perfect for our imaginative dreamy-eyed girl and the boy who’s adored her since he first tugged her pigtails and called her Carrots in that schoolroom:

“Green was the color of the grass Where I used to read at Centennial Park >> (Can’t you just picture Anne lying in the grass, a book in her hand, flowers in her hair?) I used to think I would meet somebody there Teal was the color of your shirt When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop“

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?“

“Wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold Tied me to you“ >> (Love the warmth and vibrancy of this. The wool makes me think of Avonlea blanketed in snow; the gold has me drinking sunshine, smelling goldenrod in October)

“Time, wondrous time Gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies“

“And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?“ (Love the idea of the string representing their friendship, how it never snipped. How it only braided together, growing tauter, closer, all the time.)

august hits me with a waterfall of Darvey/Donna and Harvey feels. There’s a wistfulness about this song that settles in my gut, twisting it with longing, with musings of all those Almosts in relationships that were so close to coming to fruition then never did. It’s so incredibly reminiscent of how Donna and Harvey toe the lie between friends and almost lovers who-are-nearly-there-but-not-quite for 12 years. IT HURTS SO GOOD.

“Back when we were still changin' for the better >> (THIS IS SO EMOTIONALLY RESONANT IT HURTS) Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Canceled plans just in case you'd call”

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine >> (Obviously I’m swimming in the angst of this until my fingers get all pruny.)

Finally there’s mirrorball which is Jisbon/Jane and Lisbon all the way! It’s funny because when I first listened to Folkore I thought that’d be one of the last songs I’d pair with a ship?? YET HERE I AM. Jane was in the carnival circuit growing up and I cannot, for the life of me, stop attaching him to all the descriptions of the circus/revelry. So much of his schtick throughout the show comes down to trickery and observation, which he uses to size people up, and sarcasm, which he often employs as a defense mechanism to keep people at an emotional distance. I like the theme of this song for him and Lisbon. As the mirrorball, he’s shining his true self only for her. She’s the only person who sees his “shattered edges”; she’s not distracted by all his “glistening.” Here are my favorite lyrics that are applicable to them:

“I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

“I can change everything about me to fit in You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten” >> (Okay, so this makes me think Jane’s on camera confession to Erica Flynn: “I’m looking for someone who…uh, someone I can trust. Someone strong. Someone at peace with themselves. Someone better than me. Someone who knows the…worst side of me and still loves me.")

“And they called off the circus, burned the disco down When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me”

“I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me“

I will stop there because otherwise I could sit here analyzing songs and ships for the rest of my life, boring you to tears haha. Thanks for this, lovely! (And obviously I’d love to hear some of your song/ship matchups as well!) xx

#what-would-jane-austen-say #replies #the loveliest of lovely people #ashlee bree talks folklore and ships #i didn't do all 16 songs #but i covered a good number of them #from literati to darcy and elizabeth #from klaroline to jaime and brienne #from shirbert to darvey to jisbon #not bad for a day's worth of obsessive music analysis and listening i think!

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happyminyards · 6 years

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Hey there. I'm one of those folks reposting your break-up-wait-why-did-we-break-up posts. Because they are SO GREAT! Part of what draws me in is how this/your Andrew finds another way to respect Neil's boundaries + agency. You said you're primarily writing academic work now. Well, IF you are so inclined/have time to make room, would you consider writing more in this vein? Maybe what happens next when they *are* calling + visiting? Maybe they try sexting? Don't care WHAT, but I do care for MORE❤

arrives seven months late with whatever this is, part 1 here but not really needed, this is just long distance shmoop and feelings

hello yes one order of long-distance communication coming up. thank you SO MUCH for your kind words!!

“You know Aaron actually send me a meme yesterday, you think he’s forgiven me?” Neil asked, curled up at the end of the couch, his laptop on the coffee table showing Andrew’s somewhat pixellated face.

“Aaron said he’d steal my knives and stab you himself if you, and I quote, ‘mess this shit up again’,” Andrew replied, leaning back against his pillow, “I told him that I called dibs on that five years ago.” he shifted again, probably trying to get the blanket wrapped around his feet like he refused to admit he liked, and Neil ached to brush his fingers over the skin behind his knees

“I’m still putting memes down as progress, and according to Robin it was a good one at that.”

“There’s a ranking?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m just a lowly exy captain with no taste in internet humour, apparently” Neil smirked when he hears Andrew huff a laugh, but looked down, swallowing to build up the courage to ask “Hey, Drew?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I keep the phone on again tonight? Just. It’s been a weird week.”

Maybe Neil imagined it, but the corners of Andrew’s eyes seemed to soften the tiniest bit, “Yes, you can. I don’t mind.”

Neil had left Andrew’s place with a new stolen jersey, two worn soft hoodies that he didn’t plan to put into the wash, and his emotions in a swirling mess

They had spent the weekend talking, slowly rekindling themselves, Neil doing his best to skirt around the issue of basically no sleep and trying to keep the rest of the Foxes from figuring out his slow collapse. But Andrew could still see through his smoke and mirrors, could draw out a sigh and an honest answer with the touch of his thumb to Neil's cheekbone

So they talked about the future, where they’d go from here.

“It’s simple. every time you thought about telling me something, sending me a message or a picture, you do that. You don’t ignore it, you just send me a picture of that stupid sign at the coffee shop.” Andrew had summed it up, the way he stared at his cup for a few seconds before the only indicator of his unease with the open talk. He had gotten better at it over the years, but Neil suspected that the break hadn’t exactly helped in healing old wounds.

“I just don’t want to annoy you. Or distract you.”

“Neil. as much as you annoy me sometimes, I much prefer that over not knowing whether you’re about to keel over from sleep deprivation.”

Neil blew out a huffed breath “That’s not what I want it to be about. We’re not doing this because I apparently function better with you around. If I send you something or call you I want it to be because we both enjoy it.” he shifted uneasily, keeping his toes tucked under Andrew's thighs, trying to ignore the way Andrew kept drawing small circles on his ankle almost unconsciously, “I don’t want you back just so I can sleep. I could have figured that out. I want you back because having you there makes everything easier, yes, but it also makes everything better. I love having you around, I want to talk to you just because it’s you and you’re, well, you’re my favourite person.”

He knew his head must have been fire engine red at this point, and his eyes kept flickering over to the book on the shelf, the cat dish by the door, the picture of the twins at graduation day on the wall

(He remembered Nicky beaming at finally getting a picture of the two of them, how he kept calling out obscene things to try and get them to smile until Aaron finally cracked and started laughing, leading to Andrew throwing his brother a look that could be called slightly bemused, the corners of his mouth twitching. He also knew Nicky had his own copy of the picture at his house in Germany, and according to Erik kept showing it off as “My cousins, the doctor-to-be and the exy star”)

Andrew looked at him, his hand closing around his ankle, biting his lip before letting out a slow breath: “I have pictures on my phone. Of the cat, and some random Exy magazine with Boyd’s badly photoshopped face on it that I wanted to send to you. It could fill a whole wing at the damn MOMA at this point. I told you yesterday that I would have driven down to see you. I’m not here to be your sleeping pill, and I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”

And Neil had inched forwards, dropping his head on Andrew’s shoulder and pressing a kiss against the hinge of his jaw. “It’ll work this time, right?”, he whispered against Andrew’s skin, slightly timid in the face of his own vulnerability.

“We want it to,” Andrew replied, pushing his nose into Neil’s hair, “We’ll make it work.”

[n] - “i hate this.”

“i’ll be home in ten, i’ll call you.”

[n] - “no, don’t. it’s fine. i’m fine. i just.”

[n] - “i miss you so goddamn much.”

[n] - “i just want to see you. no pixels no phone no anything. just see you”

[n] - “sometimes i wake up and i think you’re there because the blankets you left when you moved out are all bunched up behind me and i can feel them at my back and i go to touch you and there’s nothing.”

[n] - “and it just hurts.” [n] - “but it’s almost worth it because for that split second i think you’re there. i dream about you and then i wake up and for a second you’re actually here.”

[n] - “but you’re not.”

[n] - “i’m sorry. i know you’re busy and this isn’t the right place. and it isn’t your fault. this is all just screwed up.”

“i miss you too”

[n] - “andrew”

“i’ll call you, okay? i’m almost home.”

“I can’t believe you actually send me a care package.” Andrew drawled, but Neil could hear the undercurrent of amusement and found himself squishing the phone closer to his ear

“I have half your closet in my drawer at this point. Figured it was time to even the score a bit,” he replied, lazily stirring his pasta around and watching the bubbles break at the surface.

“That explains the jersey and the hoodie, but not the rest.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been missing those bars, the café basically went bankrupt without you buying up their stock.”

Andrew had gotten weirdly obsessed with the chocolate oat bars the small coffee shop just off campus sold in his fourth year, and Neil blamed Renee entirely. She had dragged him there the first time, after all. Neil still found the occasional crumb in some of his jackets from Andrew smuggling those things, “And the book looked like something you’d be interested in, that’s all.”

“It is,” Andrew answered after a small pause, and Neil considered how he could manoeuvre around draining his pasta one-handed before he decided to just drag it off the heat. Let it be soggy. The speaker on his phone was rubbish anyway.

Neil leaned back against the counter, absentmindedly rubbing at a stain with his thumb. “Do you like it? Not just the book, the whole thing. I just thought it’s one of those things, right?. I wanted to send you some of my clothes. And I wanted you to have those bars and the book. Just like the pictures.”

Andrew huffed a small breath, his voice quiet, and Neil wanted so badly to just see his face, “Yeah Neil, I liked it.”

They stayed silent. Neil in his shoddy dorm kitchen, his pasta slowly turning cold and mushy, his roommates discarded plate in the sink. He could imagine Andrew in his house, on the couch or just out the back door, twirling a cigarette between his fingers. He had given up smoking before graduating, but his hands still needed something to hold on sometimes. Or maybe he was in his bedroom, the unpacked contents of the package around him. Neil wanted to be there, regardless.

“The cat toy was unneeded though.”

“That cat needs something to play with, even I know that.”

“She’s not my cat, Josten.”

“You sent me a picture of her sleeping on your chest literally a week ago.”

“That was confidential.”

“That was adorable, Andrew. I made it my home screen. She’s your cat. Take the damn toy.”

Neil woke up with a start, only realizing his phone vibrating on the bedside table had woken him up after a second of startled panic, picking it up and squinting at the brightness of the screen

[andrew] - “can i call you?”

He hit call on Andrew’s number before he could even think about it, dread rising back up at the back of his throat.

“Neil.” Andrew’s voice was low, and it took Neil a moment to place the forced calm in it.

“Hey,” he replied softly, scooting out of bed quietly and making his way to the couch in the living room. There was a blanket on there that Nicky had left behind when he went back to Germany that always reminded Neil of him, and he wrapped his legs in it now, “Hey, I’m here.”

There was nothing on the line apart from Andrew’s shallow, fast breathing, so familiar to Neil after years of sleeping in the same bed and waking up to nightmares creeping at the edge of the window.

“D’you want me to talk?”, he asked, voice soft and quiet both for the sake of his roommates and Andrew.

Neil could hear Andrew shifting, the almost-not-there sound of his feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom as he went over to the window, the slight creak in the handle as he turned it to let some air in.

“Yeah. Talk.”

“Dan stopped by today, she was on her way to a conference,” Neil knew this game from too much practice, knew the exact sort of topics and tone to use, “Some of the freshmen wanted to pin her down and force her to be our new coach, but I guess that’s what happens if you don’t know her drills”

He could hear Andrew huffing and felt himself relax the tiniest bit. Reactions were good, and he didn’t know if he could live with himself if his voice wasn’t enough tonight.

So he kept talking, about Dan’s commentary on the team’s form, about her ruffling his hair when she hugged him goodbye, about the pictures Allison had sent him from her trip to Portugal.

Nothing too complicated, nothing too emotional. Nothing about how he’d had a nagging worry at the back of his head all day when Andrew didn’t reply to his messages, or the fact that he had once again found himself staring at the prices for last minute plane tickets, toying with the idea, the team and school be damned. Neil could see the clock in the corner lazily shifting from 2 to 3 am, and settled in deeper into the couch cushions.

“Oh, and Dan brought me something, actually,” he found himself saying, the end of the sentence trailing off into the darkness of the room.

“What did she bring you?” Andrew asked, his voice rough but had lost the tension that was all over it just 15 minutes ago.

“Some pictures, of your graduation party.” Neil could basically feel the slight hitch on Andrew’s next breath and leaned his forehead on his drawn up knees. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but the night apparently made him lose his head just a little bit. “She hadn’t sorted through them yet when she was here the last time, but she found a few she thought we might want. She’ll send the rest to Nicky and Aaron.”

Dan had mentioned the rest of the pictures, of Nicky in his sparkly graduation cap chugging a bottle of champagne at 3am and Aaron falling asleep on the couch next to his twin, snuggling an oversized plush toy bear dressed as a doctor that the cheerleaders had gifted him. But Neil had only nodded, staring at the pieces off glossy photo picture she had stuffed into his hands.

“There’s a few of us,” he started, clearing his throat slightly, “On the armchair. I don’t really remember it, it must have been late.”

“During the karaoke.” Neil could basically see him, the faint light from the streetlights spilling on his hair, the cowlick near his ear that always appeared after sleeping, the crinkles in his old faintly blue sleep shirt and he closed his eyes, willing to keep the longing at bay.

“Probably,” he replied, shifting his head on his knees so he wouldn’t muffle the phone, “they’re not perfect, some of them are out of focus and the colours are all weird from the lights the girls dragged in but,” he cut himself off, pressing his mouth closed. This had never been supposed to be so hard.

He could hear Andrew breathing out again before his voice came through the phone, “You were in my lap, sideways. You had been wound up all day, but you were relaxed then. Laughing at Boyd murdering Holding Out For A Hero. There was glitter in your hair from all the horrid party hats. Your shirt kept slipping off your shoulder because you mixed them up and put on the bigger one that morning.”

“You kissed me,” Neil whispered, not wanting to interrupt Andrew but the words slipping out anyway, “When Nicky and Katelyn were doing Summer Nights. Dan got it in the background. Everyone’s looking at the two of them, but we’re just. There. Together. Your hands are under my shirt”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Andrew said, and the words seemed to crackle in hundreds of miles between them.

“I didn’t want you to leave either,” Neil replied, feeling his heart clench, “I thought about that night a lot, you know. When we were,” he paused, biting his lower lip, “Not us.”

“Me too.” There was a pause before Andrew spoke again, his voice just a bit less vulnerable than a minute ago. Neil admired his ability to try and dredge them up from below, “Give some of them to me, when I’m coming down.”

“Two weeks,” Neil smiled slightly, half bitter half happy, at the mention of Andrew’s nearing visit. There was a countdown on his phone, but hearing it made it seem more real.

“Two weeks.”

Neil sat up, trying to blow the hair off his forehead. It was almost 3:30 am, but he knew he couldn’t just go back to sleep now, and he knew Andrew would be feeling the same way.

“Hey, you wanna watch a movie?” he asked, already pushing the blanket off his legs, “I just need to get my laptop.”

Andrew huffed, “Yeah, I do. My choice, though. I’m not watching another Mission Impossible.”

“Admit it, you like them,” Neil said, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth while he got up and padded to the desk to retrieve his laptop.

“Lies and slander,”

A few minutes later Neil was curled up again, his laptop on his legs and the phone on speaker on his shoulder, the world not looking quite as blurry with the shine of the laptop screen and the sound of Andrew navigating the Netflix menu through the speaker.

“Hey, Neil?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re trying. We’re making it work.”

“I know. And just two more weeks. I don’t think I’ll let you leave the room.”

“And what if I want to say hello to our darling coach?”

“I think you’ll be quite happy here, with me.”

There was a pause before Andrew’s reply came back, sending a river of molten sunshine through Neil’s core, “Yeah, I guess I will be.”

#foxsoulcourt #the foxhole court #andreil #tfc #this took me SO LONG #shout out to zara larsson's ruin my life for the final push #i also wanted to include a scene of them Meeting Up but it didn't fit o if you want that i'm wiggling my eyebrows you know #the tldr of this is i love Communication and Feelings and Angst btw #mine #andrewneil

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