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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Note

Hello there! Can you write hcs for Tim with a demigodess!reader please? Congrats on your 600 followers btw^^

Tim Drake x Demigoddess!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much! So I’m totally dense about greek myths and stuff and I was gonna make her Thor’s daughter at first but then I forgot about that I did Hades but when I remembered it was already written so oh well

You were the daughter of Hades and Persephone

You had kind of a weird childhood

Don’t get me wrong, it was a great childhood

Being princess of the underworld and the daughter of the only sane people in all of Olympus had its perks

But compared to everyone else, it was weird

Hades was extremely protective of you because you were a mortal

Meaning that you could die

The thought of having to greet your soul when you died filled him with so much grief

So, he kept you sheltered, kept you safe

Never letting you lift a finger

As princess you had everything you ever needed and everything your heart desired

Since birth you had been trained by Athena and Aries under your father’s watchful eyes

When you were 16 and you finally wanted to see the rest of the world, you begged your parents to let you go to the mortal world

It took months of begging and when they said no, you’d get so upset that all the flowers in the underworld would wither

Persephone seeing how much you wanted to see the world

So, she convinces Hades to let you go

And he agrees but just as long as you promise to visit

You go to the human world and you’re so oblivious about human life that it’s concerning

Walking around in a floor length dress wondering why everyone else wasn’t dressed the same way

This is how you meet Diana Prince

She recognizes you immediately when you arrive at the Smithsonian, looking mildly confused

Your eyes light up when you see a familiar face

You stay with her for a couple of days before she decides that you’d be better off at the cave

That’s exactly what happens

Even though you whine a little and say you want to stay with her

She just knows it’s because you’re nervous about being in a new place

You know that if you were in any real danger your parents would inflict rage on the mortal world

Feeling mildly comforted at the idea

Diana doesn’t tell them to add you to the group

She just tells them that you need a place to stay and someone to help you find your way around

The first people you meet are Batman, Nightwing and Robin

Immediately being comforted just by looking at them

Batman reminded you of your dad and Nightwing of your mom

And Diana trusted them so you did too

You end up following Tim and Dick around for the next couple of days like a lost puppy

Dick finds it amusing

Tim is kinda unsettled but thinks you’re stupid for some reason

It isn’t until he actually talks to you, he realizes you’re much more profound than he gave you credit for

You don’t officially join the team

You just live there

Everyone thinks that you have no training whatsoever

And that you’re just a princess

Which you technically are but

Until you’re watching them train one day and then remember the days you would spar with Athena

It looked like so much fun

Immediately you wanted to join in

Some of them rolled their eyes and thought you were wasting their time

The others were happy to let you join in

They wanted to make Bart spar you but you looked around contemplatively before pointing at Tim

“If it is alright with you, I wish for you to be my partner.”

Tim blushing because what you said sounded like you were choosing him as a life partner, rather than sparring partner

Of course, Bart teases him for it as well as the others

When Tim walks up to the middle, Dick subtlety tells him to take it easy on you and he nods

The match is over before he can even make a move

You had the speed and strength of a god, it wasn’t a surprise

Not to you at least

To everyone else, kind of a huge surprise

Standing over him and giggling

“I want a rematch.”

“But of course.”

Spending the rest of the day sparring with him

He doesn’t beat you even once

And the others just watch you throw him around for an afternoon

After a while it stops being funny and Nightwing is almost concerned

It kind of hurts his pride but you still acknowledge him

“You know, for a human, you’re very skilled.”

“Uh, thank you?”

After that you go through the other members quite quickly

Some of them gave you a little trouble, like Conner

But you managed to be undefeated

They all think you should join the team after that and you agree

Spending more time with Tim that way

Always talking to him about your family’s history and stuff

Telling him all about your parents love story when he asked to hear about it

You talk so fondly of it and he’s honestly just kind of shocked that Greek Mythology isn’t mythology

I mean, he knew it was real because of Diana

But he never really understood how real these gods were

He falls for you

He loves the way your eyes light up and you smile at him

He loves the way you’re always eager to learn

He loves that you’re so kind and gentle but can also beat people up without even trying

He asks you out but it didn’t go as well as he was hoping

“Do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes, a walk sounds lovely.”

“(Y/N), I like you.”

“Aw that’s so sweet Tim, I like you too, friend.”

Everyone else starts enjoying the way he crashes and burns all the time

And Tim would stop asking usually

But he knows it in his bones that you like him too

But he has no other way to tell you aside from marching up to you and kissing you

Makes that Plan B tho

Plan A is getting you a bouquet of your favourite flowers and telling you that he likes you

Romantically

Not platonically

You grin widely and tell him you like him too

Kissing you just as the sun set that day

It’s one of your favourite memories

His too

Everyone being extremely happy and supporting of your relationship

You can tell Batman is trying to threaten you

But your father is god of the underworld and you have a three headed dog

So, when you and Tim are caught kissing in some hidden crevice in the cave by him and he tries telling you off, you can’t help you smile adorably

“Don’t worry Batman, I have no intention of dishonouring your son.”

Batman is like ???

And Tim is either like “Please don’t speak like we’re in the 1800s.”

or “Please dishonour me.”

He buys you pomegranates as a joke but then you prank him saying that if he eats them, he has to return to the underworld with you

Dick (Nightwing) approves

You like falling asleep in his arms so more often than not you plead with him to stay at the cave and sleep with you

He knows relationships in Olympus generally move a lot quicker so he ends up having to sit you down and explain everything to you so you know his boundaries

Totally accepting them and never going farther than he wants

You appreciate the small things

Like sitting in his lap and eating breakfast

Or being the small spoon

You become the team’s resident couple

Being part of a team, a family is honestly so much fun

Everyone thinking your invincible and practically indestructible

Until one day you’re hurt on the battlefield

Everyone freaking out and getting you back to the cave so you could be treated

The next morning, Tim goes to check up on you and finds something shocking

He’s not sure what to be more surprised by

Cerberus napping at the foot of your bed

Or you crying

Even though the giant, three-headed dog freaks him out, he still sits beside you and asks what’s wrong

“My father demands that I return home. He cannot stand the thought of me being hurt.”

His heart stops

He likes you so much, even bordering on love

And he doesn’t want you to leave

But who was he to stop the God of the Underworld?

Comforting you when you cried, hugging you tightly

“Shh it’s gonna be okay.”

You return home after that and it breaks Tim’s heart

You don’t officially break up but it’s kind of implied because you can never return back to the mortal world

Him being depressed for the next few months but he hides it well

Even though everyone knows how he’s feeling

Things aren’t any better on your end

Your heart aches with every second your away from him

Until one day it happens

Your soul wants to be with Tim

So, it tries to leave your body

You have a heart attack that night and nearly die and it horrifies Hades

He goes all the way to the mortal world to find Tim

Tim doesn’t quite understand how you could have a heart attack from missing him

But is still worried and agrees to go to the Underworld to see you

When he gets there, you’re in so much pain

But once he brings you into his arms you feel sated

When he kisses you, everything fades into a dull ache

Hades wants Tim to stay in the Underworld after that but you argue and tell him to go back to the land of the living

This wasn’t the place for him

“I’ll give up on you, I promise, but you can’t stay here any longer my love.”

“I don’t want to leave your side.”

“I’m sorry, but you know we can’t be.”

Tim goes the next morning and it breaks your heart but you know that it’s for the best

You spend the next few weeks in such sorrow that all of Persephone’s plants die

Hades and Persephone both see how much you love Tim and they are reminded of themselves when they were younger

Making a joint decision to let you go back to the mortal world

But you have to live a long life

That’s the one condition

You running into the cave and crashing into Tim’s arms

Kissing him there and feeling everything go right in the world

You fulfil your parents wish

And live a long, happy life by Tim’s side

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

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cassanovancats · 3 years

Text

felicitate. nine.

eight < current > ten

Dec. 24, 2017

You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.

A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.

You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.

You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.

Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.

When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.

Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.

When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.

Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.

Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.

“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.

Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”

A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”

“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.

Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”

“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.

“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”

“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.

Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.

“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.

Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”

“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”

A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.

“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.

Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.

“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.

Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”

“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”

“A big-shot sorcerer.”

“Tuna.”

“The annoying side of the family,” you add.

Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.

“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.

“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.

“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.

#felicitate #cass.writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #inumaki x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #inumaki x reader x yuta #female!reader #jjk spoilers #jjk volume 0 spoilers #please dont take knives out #they help keep blood in normally after getting stabbed

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Text

we’re not engaged T.H.

wc: 1.5k

ariana grande!reader tells the world tom and her aren’t engaged

(fluff)

She couldn't have been happier. She was practically glowing, only she wasn't pregnant. Just married.

Y/N and Tom had dated for two and a half years before Tom proposed. Announcing it on their social medias months later had erupted in millions of 'congrats!' and 'very happy for you two!"'s. The couple had announced their big step a few months after Tom popped the question, so the wedding was well on its way already.

It wasn't a stereotypical wedding. On the contrary, it was quite small; only their closest friends & family members attended the private wedding venue. Paparazzi hadn't suspected a thing, and neither had the fans.

It had been three months since the wedding, and Y/N was attending her first interview since before it. She was releasing an album in about a month, so there was much to catch up on.

Tom and her agreed that if they were asked about marriage, then they would be honest, but they hoped to not go purposefully raise attention.

"Y/N, welcome back! It's been what- a year?" Zach, the host, said.

There was a group of fans sitting on the floor in bean bags and big cushions, right in front of the couch that Y/N and Zach were seated on, microphones propped up in front of them.

"Uh-" she laughed. "Yeah, yeah I think so." She was sitting cross-legged, her hands in her lap and underneath the blanket that was covering her. She wasn't really hiding the ring sitting on her left hand, but she wore an over-sized hoodie (which was really just Tom's) so she would have sweater-paws in case.

Y/N went on to answer each question, her answers three times as long as what was asked. The fans had respectable comments and questions as well -- joining in only when it was appropriate.

"What was the hardest song to write?"

"I think.." Y/N's right pointer finger was pointed out as she leaned on her hand in thought. "I think "ghostin.'"

"Why's that?" Zach asked.

Instead of answering, Y/N used both her hands to gesture a pushing motion, her palms facing towards the audience as she made a soft facial expression. Zach laughed slightly in understanding, changing the topic to something a little less sensitive.

"Did Tom help you write any of it?" he asked.

Y/N smiled at the mention of Tom, her heart rate increasing. She knew Tom was watching (and listening), live with the rest of the world, so she tried not to give him anything to tease her about.

"For sure," she laughed.

"What's so funny?" Zach asked, laughing along.

"Nothing-!" Y/N blushed. "If I tell you the song, listening to it will- oh god," she put her face in her hands in pure embarrassment.

"What's the song about?" Zach laughed.

"We're.. open to interpretation?" Y/N stated, though it came out as more of a question.

"What's the song?" Someone from the audience asked.

"Track.. seven," Y/N laughed. "Track titles out in a week," she grinned slyly. Everyone grunted playfully in result, knowing they'd have to wait to find out.

"So he helped you write it?' Zach continued. "Or did he like-"

"Well he was the inspiration," she answered, "and when I started writing it he came in and helped me write it like- halfway through, maybe three-fourths of the way through."

a / n : the song is called 'make up' and its about really filthy make up sex, so there's that

"So," Zach smiled and eyed her knowingly. "You and Tom. You're still engaged?"

At this, everyone's ears perked up, their mouths shutting as they waited for her response. Y/N's mouth was open and about to say something, but nothing came out for the first few seconds.

"Uhm," she glanced around the room, eyes moving but face stilled in it's position. "No- no we're not engaged anymore."

At this, she heard quiet gasps and small murmurs erupt throughout the room, and the phone that had questions from fans who were live-tweeting started blowing up.

Tom, who was actually watching from the studio building, was also wide eyed, mouth open slightly. Harrison punched his arm lightly, removing Tom from his trance as both of them continued watching Y/N.

"What-" Zach followed-up immediately. "What happened? Did you call it off or di-"

"Well," Y/N was trying to suppress a smile. "When people get engaged, they have to get married at some point," she said, showing off her ring.

Zach had put a hand over his chest in relief, the audience breathing out sighs of relief as the room exploded with joy and congratulatory messages.

"The wedding," Zach started after things quieted down. "It never surfaced online from the paps or anything."

"Yeah," Y/N said. "Tom and I are so fucking thankful for that. It was a private venue -- only family and close friends attended."

"Where was the honeymoon?" Someone sitting in front of her asked.

"Uhm- Venice. Venice, Italy," Y/N blushed at the thought of it.

"Where's Tom now?" The fans went on. "Is he filming? Or taking a break for the beginning of the marriage? Or-"

Y/N's laugh interrupted him, her smile finally showing. "He's, uh- he's in the building," she admitted.

At this, noise grew wildly in excitement, multiple requests to get Tom in the interview being proposed. Y/N turned to Zach, silently asking him if he would allow it.

"As long as it's okay with the two of you," Zach smiled. "We have more than enough microphones."

Y/N laughed, pulling her phone out of her pocket and ringing up Tom.

"Hey, sweets," he said. The phone was on speaker, and the audience awed at the pet name.

"Hi," Y/N replied timidly. "I'm not sure if you saw, but the-"

"I'm on my way. Harrison's giving me directions, so he'll probably be coming too," Tom said into the phone.

Everyone was watching (listening to) the couple intently, awing again at them.

"Okay," Y/N smiled. "I'll see you inna bit."

"Mhmm," Tom hummed, Harrison's voice lightly speaking in the background. "See you in five, angel. Love you."

"Love you too, Tommy," Y/N said, hanging up the phone and looking at it, a little lost in thought and forgetting about the current interview she was in.

"You two seem so happy," Zach interrupted her daydream.

"Oh, for sure," Y/N said. "It's like a never-ending honeymoon phase, yanno?" She smiled again. Zach nodded along, the rest of the audience doing the same, and then a producer from behind the camera informed them that both Tom and Harrison had arrived. Two microphones, both with wires coming out from the bottom of them, were placed on the open space on the couch, between the host and Y/N. And then, both boys were sitting down, smiles adorning their faces.

Tom had kissed her cheek, a simple gesture that had Y/N blushing wildly.

"Hello, boys," Zach greeted them.

Both replied with a simple 'hi,' and the interview went on, only this time, the questions were more open for each person to answer.

"What is it liked being in a relationship with someone who's schedule is all over the place?" Zach asked, glancing between Tom and Y/N. "Actors and artists have it pretty rough. I- I can imagine it being.. pretty difficult to fully commit to a relationship and not see each other for months at a time."

"Of course," Tom replied first, his accent thick as his chocolate curls fell on part of his face. "There's always rough patches, but for me, the peak of my career had really just, 'ended' you could say, and being with Y/N was like the first step to settling down. It was like I could fully support her from the front row, instead of on the sidelines like I always have." Tom blindly grabbed her hand and held it in his lap, linking their fingers together as he smiled softly. Both boys turned to her to see if she would respond.

"Uhm," she laughed quietly. "Not that his career his totally over, because his schedule gets more flexible the older he gets as an actor, but it's pretty much that. It's hard to support somebody else and do your job one hundred percent. When Tom was at his 'peak,' my music was kind of.. on hold for awhile," Y/N smiled. "It was a bit rough at times, but I think it's better to give your all to one thing, rather than trying to satisfy everybody at once. I was with Tom during filming, attending premieres and press tours too, and now I think the roles have just reversed."

"You guys really have your shit together," Zach commented. The couple laughed, looking at each other because they knew he was right. "Well, I hope you two are really happy together, and I wish you both long & wonderful lives."

"Oh, thank you Zach. God, don't make me cry," Y/N said, jokingly wiping her eyes with a smile on her face.

Tom laughed at her too before replying. "Really, though. Thank you, mate," Tom smiled.

"I think all the fans can agree that we need more [ your ship name ] content!" Zach exclaimed.

"We're playing 'Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts' on the Late Late Show tomorrow, so keep an eye out for that," Tom said nonchalantly.

"What?" Y/N said, bewildered. "I never signed up for that!" She laughed.

Tom smirked, "Surprise?"

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welldonekhushi · 3 years

Text

To Love An Indian | Tony Stark x Desi!Reader

Summary: The reader is a desi woman who was appointed as an assistant by Tony Stark. How will your relationship with the billionaire genius go?

Warnings: All fluff, used Hindi language! Translations are available.

Word Count: 2,914

The special fact about you was, being an Indian was something common about when you live in a western country.

Mostly migrate to other places for finding a job, same as you. Never believed once in your life, you're going to get a job of an assistant. For a billionaire genius, and a superhero.

Everyone in your family was so happy about it, at least they have expectations that their daughter will finally make her name and earn. Maybe find someone special that you find to be perfect in your life?

Your mom and dad always worked hard for you for a better future and lifestyle. They never been so happier when they found out you were being appointed for a job in America. They felt so successful and proud for making their daughter educated enough to send her further.

Your flight was tomorrow, but the nervousness just kicks inside that how would your interview go. It was actually Tony Stark, the genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist. You can't even mess up with him. But, there was one thing which bugged you about, a tingly feeling.

You remember him since the day when the world was saved from the Chitauri invasion, and everyone was celebrating about the victory of heroes. It filled throughout the Indian media, about the new superheroes, named as the Avengers, who fight the inside and outside evils. The moment Iron Man showed on the screen, you were left surprised. You kept staring at the hero saving others and making sure if they're secure.

Mostly! When he opened his mask, and revealed his face, everyone held such shocked faces, like they never knew Iron Man was basically a human inside controlling the suit.

"Lo, hum joh isse robot samaj rahe the, yeh toh insaan nikala!" Your grandmother exclaimed. (Wow, we thought he was robot, but he turned out to be a human?)

"Chodo na, dadi. Hai toh hero, na?" You replied, turning back to the television. (Leave, grandma. At least he's a hero, right?)

But, you kept looking at his face. The way he spoke, the way he actions, and everything. You were lost into the man, that suddenly you revealed your smile, your sister noticing it.

"Didi, kya hogaya?" Your sister broke your contact, making you jerk in an instant. (What's wrong, sis?)

"O-oh, k-kuch nahi. Bas me usse dekh rahi thi, baat karte hue." You stammered, looking back. (Oh, it's nothing. I was just looking at him, talking.)

"Oho, pyaar me toh nahi pad gaye na?" Your sister teased, making you blush. (Oh, are you falling in love, huh?)

"Aree! Pagal toh nahi ho? Of course nahi! Hero hai, respect karti hu." (Hey! Are you crazy? Of course no! He's a hero, and I respect him.)

You did appreciate him, but this kind of respect leading to somewhere else.

It was morning, and the time for your flight. Bidding everyone a heartwarming farewell, hoping to see your family soon again.

"Beta araam se jaana. Maine tere liye bahut saari kheer banayi hai. Kha lena agar bhuk lagi toh, thik hai?" (Dear, go easy while you leave. I made lots of pudding for you, so eat it if you feel hungry, alright?)

"Haa maa, ghabrao nahi. Me araam se jaaungi. Ashirvad do bas." You kneeled down to take blessing from your mom and dad, them giving it back. (Yes, mom don't worry. I'll go easy, just give me your blessing.)

"Khush raho, beti. Kaam karna aur naam roshan karna." Your father removed his spectacles, crying tears for her daughter leaving. (Be happy, my daughter. Work hard and make your name bright.)

You hugged your dad, weeping because he wasn't ready to accept the fact you were now leaving him for a long time. After breaking the hug, you wiped his tears, giving him confidence.

Stepping in the taxi, you bid them goodbye, waving your hand and leaving for the airport.

Your new life now began, the moment you entered America. Landing, you then stayed in the hotel for the night, tired and exhausted. But, along that you wanted to remember your lines, so you quickly revise and go to sleep. In the morning, you hurriedly reach Stark Tower for the interview, since the time was running a bit fast.

Entering in the huge interior, looking at a lot of people working in. It did made your nervousness kick in again, but behaved like a strong woman, just wanting to complete the interview as a badass.

You reached the receptionist. "Excuse me, can you tell me where will Mr. Stark take the interview?"

"Oh, on the 15th floor, meeting rooms."

"Thank you." You smiled, reaching the elevator and waiting for the floor to arrive. Checking your watch, you were two minutes late, but hoping they'll just manage. Entering the room, feeling the slight cold air hitting your skin. It seemed empty, but hoped he was waiting for a while.

"Uhm, Mr. Stark?" You called out.

"Come in, Miss (L/N)." A deep, masculine voice filled through the room, knowing someone was actually in. Stepping inside, and closing the door, you seat yourself, trying to hide away your nervousness. It seemed you were slowly forgetting your lines but, being a strong woman is your passion right? Who even can—

The moment the chair turned around towards your direction, you lost it. It looks like you totally forgot the lines now.

Because Tony Stark just faced in front of you.

Did you just, blush? No, it might be embarassment. But, he too stared at you for a while. It was like an awkward staring contest, but remembering you were here for an interview, you brought yourself back.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark. Sorry for being so late." You wipe off the flick of hair on your face.

"It's okay. At least you were on time." He replied, giving a smile. Damn, it was cute.

"So, Miss (L/N). You're from, India right?" He asked, looking at your documents.

"Y-yes! I'm from India, also fully graduated from college."

"What really made you accept this assistant job?" He started asking questions.

"I just don't want to work for money, but I want to find what better I can do while I'm by myself."

"That's everyone's expectations. We should really try something new, and it's a fact of finding your true self."

"Right." You nodded.

"Alright, I have appointed you, congrats." He closed the document and gave a grin.

You widen your eyes. "What? I-I thought you were going to ask more questions..?"

"I don't ask many of them, I know you're capable for everything so, no need." He shrugged.

"W-wow.. I mean, it's way different back there.. haha. What a prick I am." You chuckled.

"You shouldn't actually be uncomfortable or nervous around me, okay? I'll always be available for your problems." He stood up from his chair, and you also too. Offering his hand for a handshake, and you happily accept it.

"Congratulations for the job, Miss (L/N)."

"Aapka bahut, bahut dhanyawad." You accidentally speak in your language, making you cover your mouth in surprise. (Thank you very much.)

He raised his eyebrow in confusion, not sure what you really meant. "Excuse me?" He tilts his head, smirking.

"I-I meant, thank you for accepting me as your assistant, Mr. Stark.. I'm sorry about that." You replied, trying not to fluster from embarassment. But, it didn't seem to make him feel weird, he was like.. more interested?

"No no, it's fine. Accidents happen, but your language is just beautiful. Just tell me whenever you're about to speak Hindi, JARVIS, my AI will help me translate it." He chuckled, and you laugh back.

"Mr. Stark you're so funny." You shook your head and continued to laugh. He sees you smile, which somehow warmed his heart. You might not notice it, but something was being created in between.

And time actually told that, when you both worked together for a long time.

"Please, call me Tony."

✧

Years while working with Stark, you really enjoyed the job. He was a sweet, generous person who will look after you, hoping nothing worse happens. It kind of made you both like good friends, later on. Everytime you looked at him, some strange feelings always attacked you. You can't even guess what it means, but maybe because you really appreciate him.

One day came, when you even noticed about his weaknesses. It made you worry when he never came upstairs to sleep, so after a lot of convincing, he accepted your plead and slept. Even it became more forward, when Tony faced nightmares, and wanted to sleep with someone by his side.

He had been lonely, and it hurts.

His tired face made you want to rub it gently, and relax him to sleep. But, it looks like, you weren't friends anymore.

The way he became more protective and caring throughout your job in his mansion. Like a boyfriend.

But, the question came, does he even love you back, that you're feeling it all?

In the morning, Tony woke up to see the side of the bed empty. Maybe you were up early and started working. He got up and rubbed his hair, went downstairs to get some coffee. While drinking, he suddenly heard someone.. singing?

It didn't seem like an English song. It was foreign.

He could even hear the feminine sound softly, coming from the othe room.

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji,

Tu ki jaane pyaar mera, me karu intezaar tera,

Tu dil tuhiyo jaan meri

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji,

When he slowly entered the room, you were the one singing while cleaning up the documents. Seriously, he never knew you sang so well. It literally made him feel so surprised, by seeing your other talent. He leaned on the door ledge, hearing you sing beautifully without noticing, like he was lost into it.

Everyday, whenever you used to sing this song while working, he secretly saw you and always adored your voice. It just made him fall in love.

On a particular day, he heard you sing the same song again. He stepped in the room, seeing your beautiful face and voice again.

In midway of your song, you turn around and see him on the doorway, and you gasped. "O-oh, Mr. Stark! G-good morning!"

"Good morning." He replied in his groggy, morning voice. "I never knew you sang so well. You never told me you even sing." He chuckled.

"Really..? I uhm, used to sing but, I had different plans.." You rub your hair, looking embarassed.

"But you sing so well.. I'm amazed." He smiled. "Problem is, I didn't understand because, that's a different language. God, I need to take Hindi classes from you, dang. What does it mean?"

You both laughed. "This song.. uhm actually is about, a lover, explaining his.. other lover that, he can't live without her, because they're deeply attached to each other. It's my favorite song, by the way."

"Oh really? You're into romantic songs, it seems." He raised his eyebrow and smirked, finding a seat.

"Yeah but, uhm.. because they show a lot meaning, even after I'm just a single-pringle, haha. Weird isn't it?"

He stared at you for sometime, it wasn't serious, but gentle. "It's not."

You blushed, don't know why but the tone of his voice dragged into it. Both kept staring at each, and had no idea about the surroundings.

You were the one to break through, coming back to reality. "Oh! S-sorry I just got lost.. a while back."

He got up from his chair, and went closer to your direction. Looking at each other's eyes, he found yours the most beautiful. Felt like he can swim in it. Caressing your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb, you started to panic inside, not able to notice what's happening now.

"Y/N.." He said, in a soft voice. "I.. wanted to ask about something."

You gulped, still flustered. "W-what is it?"

He realised something else, and then cleared his throat. ".. can you, teach me Hindi?"

"Huh?" You looked surprised.

"Yeah, I told a very while back, that I will once ask you to teach me Hindi. I'm very interested, can you please?" He flashed a grin. Like, there was no problem for you to teach him your language. It's good to make others know about your culture.

You gave him a nod as a reply, and he became excited. "Thank you, I'll gladly be your student, Miss Y/N."

✧

For weeks, Tony had been taking Hindi classes from you. I swear, it could have been tough for him, but he was just so interested to learn the language. All you know he was just keen so you were teaching him all that. Giving him assignments and worksheets with grammar, you helped him through everything.

"Maine khana khaya.." You said the words, and waited for him to recite back. (I ate my food.)

"Maine khana.. khaya? Did I say it right?" He replied, in a weird way because his American accent was also mixing in between.

"No no, you're going correctly! Now say it again."

"Maine khana khaya." Tony said it properly.

"Good! I'm proud of you. Damn, Tony. You're going good in this language."

"For you, I can do anything, even learning a tough language."

The moment which left you blank again. He still fixed his soft eyes with yours, clearing your throat to break the tension.

"Okay so, do you have any doubts so far?

"Well, uh. I have a doubt, many of them." He rubbed his nose.

"Ask me."

He first rubs his hands nervously, then looks back at you. "How do you say.. love in Hindi?"

"Oh, well.. pyaar." You replied, being straightforward.

"Okay.. now how do we say, you're beautiful in it?"

You felt a tingly feel in your stomach, but still continued. "Tum khoobsurat ho."

He chuckles. "Alright. Now, if I ask my final doubt.. how do I say.. I love you?"

You gasped. Did he really mean it? Clenching your pen, you became nervous.

"Tell me, my love. I want to know about it."

".. me tumse pyaar karta hu."

"Yes, that is what I wanted to hear." He skids closer to you, growing close to your face.

"Mujhe tumse pyaar hai." He said, properly in Hindi. You felt like to explode. Tony Stark.. loves you?

Suddenly, he gets up from the couch, offering his hand. You grab it and get up, till a familiar song plays in the room.

Tony grabbed your waist from one arm and your hand from the other, swifting to the movements as if they're dancing.

He started singing the song, when the verse began.

- play it now! -

youtube

"Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji.." He sang the line so perfectly. You were just shocked and surprised. Both were dancing like a couple on stage.

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji..

Tu ki jaane pyaar mera, me karu intezaar tera,

Tu dil tuhiyo jaan meri

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji..

While he was singing your favorite song, you were about to burst in tears. You never believed it. The billionaire genius, actually loved you this whole time. Happily resting your head on his chest, he continued to dance while holding you close. When the song finished, he still saw the tears in your eyes.

"D-did you wanted to learn Hindi.. b-because of all this?" Your voice cracked.

"Yes, my love. Just for you. I have to tell this but.. I fell in love the moment I saw you for the first time. Your smile, laugh, voice, behavior, eyes.. and your.."

"And your.. what?"

He sighed, and then leaned to close the gap between your lips. The kiss was sweet yet passionate, like he waited for this moment.

He pulled off for air, both of your gazes neutrally looking. "I'm surprised that I fell in love with an Indian, like you. But, you're pretty, no matter what nationality you belong to. You changed my life Y/N. Trust me, the way you took care of, pampered, and worried for me.. I can never forget that. I really love you for that, my love. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.. d-do you accept me as your boyfriend?"

You started to sob, clenching his shirt tight. Maybe she wasn't happy about it. "L-look, if you don't accept, it's okay.. you deserve. Alot better than—"

"Yes, yes and a million times yes!" You said excitedly, and he sighs in relief. "Did you like.. learn the entire song?"

"Yeah, I even did take help from JARVIS for the translation, also from your teachings, never forgetting that." He winked.

"Oh god.." You laughed.

"But come on, you didn't like it? Tell me!"

"I did, Tony. And I want to thank you for it, a lot."

He gently wipes off your tears, and kisses your forehead. "Now, do you want to celebrate for our engagement?"

"Like where, Mr. Stark?" You said, flirtatiously.

He darkens his eyes, and picks you in the bridal style. "Right in our shared bedroom, sweetheart." He takes you in the room while giggling, shutting the door from inside.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x desi!reader #desi reader #tony stark fanfiction #marvel #marvel india #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

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cyla · 3 years

Note

CONGRATS ON 100!!! you deserve so much more!! can i please request a yandere alphabet with akutagawa? <3<3

Yandere Alphabet with Akutagawa

Warnings: yandere themes, physical abuse, isolation, obsession, please tell me if I missed anything

AHH thank you so much, you're so sweet!!! Please send me more of these, they're so fun to make!!! I'll definitely be doing more alphabets in the future!!! 💕💕💕

Affection - How do they show their love and affection? How intense will it get?

Okay, baby Aku isn't that good at showing emotions. Much less love. So, to show his affections, he does rather strange things. He might bring his darling the most random objects that he'll think his darling might like. Such as a cool shaped rock idk lmao. Or, he could just kill someone who was annoying his darling. I don't think he would really engage in anything physically himself. Or not until very later on. So I don't think he'd get very intense at all. He's more of a blushy boy I think.

Blood - How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Oh very messy. He doesn't care who he has to kill. Nothing is getting in the way of him and his darling. Absolutely nothing.

Cruelty - How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I think he would be a very isolating yandere. He would take away most rights from his darling, locking them up and chaining them to something so he has a piece of mind that they won't can't escape. And I don't think he'd mock his darling at all!! He isn't one for joking anyway.

Darling - Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darlings will?

He would most definitely kill off any pesky family members or friends that get in the way. And I feel like he'd tell his darling too. He'd say something like, "I am going out to kill ___. Stay here." And then come back with blood all over him. He would also lock his darling up and make sure that they see nobody but him 24/7. Also punishments of course.

Exposed - How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

On the inside, he bares all of his heart to his darling. But he would hate for them too see that. He tries his best to hide it, he really does. But that doesn't really work. But his darling notices little slip ups here and there.

Fight - How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would feel betrayed and hurt. Dazai betrayed him and left him, so you would do the same!! He also gets angry and lashes out at his darling. Yelling at them with almost tears in his eyes.

Game - Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No. Not at all. His love for his darling is never a game to him. And he would never even give them an opportunity to escape.

Hell - What would be their darlings worst experience with them?

Probably if his darling ever said that they hated him, he would get really mad. He would probably physically punish his darling, beating them until they're batted and bruised. But after, when he's calmed down, he would regret it and maybe apologize to his darling.

Ideals - What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to be with his darling forever. He doesn't have an intrest in family, he just wants a life long partner that he can safely trust. Baby trust issues.

Jealously - Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets jealous all the time!! He tries to solve the problem by locking his darling away. But before that, he would totally lash out at the person, killing them brutality in front of his darling. He would turn to his darling and when he sees the fear in their eyes, he's scared he'll start crying. He hates seeing his darling so scared of him. :(

Kisses - How do they act around or with their darling?

Distant. He hates how he loves his darling so much. It's like he has a constant pout on his face. He wants to touch his darling so bad, but he doesn't know how. :((

Love Letters - How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He would drug them and kidnap them. Effective, efficient, and easy

Mask - Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really. I mean, nobody in the Port Mafia would pick him to be the love crazy type, so I guess? And he is very strict on keeping his darling a secret from the rest of the Port Mafia. He would be embarrassed.

Naughty - How would they punish their darling?

Physically. It's really the only way he knows how to. He tries his best not to overdo it, but sometimes if he's really mad, he'll get caught up in it and regret it later.

Oppression - How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Basically every single one. Nobody but him can see his darling. Nobody can text them. Nobody can think about them. They can't think about anyone but him.

Patience - How patient are they with their darling?

He tries so hard to be patient. But sometimes, he doesn't really understand why his darling is so scared of him. And if his darling manages to push the right buttons, it's really easy for him to loose his temper.

Quit - If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He would also try so hard to move on. But he can't. The Port Mafia would notice too. He would be even more closed off. He would lash out at people for no reason. He would never be able to move on.

Regret - Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He would always feel guilty about abducting his darling. But he quickly talks himself out of it. And he would never ever ever even think of letting his darling go.

Stigma - What brought this side of them?

I think because Dazai felt him, he tried to fill that void with his darling.

Tears - How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He hates it. He hates it so so much. Especially when it isn't supposed to happen. He understands how punishments can bring his darling to scream, cry and isolate themselves. But if it just happened out of the blue? He would try anything to fix it.

Unique - Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

I feel like he actually loves his darling. Or he tries to. Or he has tricked himself into believing this is love. Very apologetic but also not? If that makes sense lol.

Vice - What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Probably if they put on a good enough act that he has made them so mentally unstable, he'd panic and send you to the doctor and his darling can probably escape there.

Wit's End - Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes. Only for punishments though.

Xoanon - How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Anything and everything to win his darling. He is obsessed with them. He would risk everything for his darling.

Yearn - How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A good while actually. He is so confused as to why he is so fixated on you, and he would like to know why before he kidnaps you. Probably a good six to nine months.

Zenith - Would they ever break their darling?

No. He loves his darling for them, not some emotionless, broken toy. He would be very careful not to break them.

#anime #books & libraries #writing #architecture #music #bungou gay dogs #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #armed detective agency #port mafia

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missskzbiased · 3 years

Text

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (12)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 7,1K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Notes: It’s on Hyunjin’s POV, so You is actually him here lol

A little bit earlier just because I want to. I think you guys will like this one because Hyunjin is kinda horny here. “kinda”. He’s horny. But anyway. Wish you a good read~

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Updates: Tuesdays

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner @channiewoo @bythesunnotbythemoon

////

HYUNJIN’S POV

Y/N was the clingy drunk.

You would never imagine that Y/N would show up unannounced at your home around… Ten? Maybe 11 PM? But the scene you had on the other side of your eye door was clear: She was gloomy and devasted, head lowered and bag being held tight to her chest. You had opened the door knowing you would regret this. The regret you would have by letting her alone outside would be way worse, though, so you let her in.

“Chan isn’t home” Was the first thing you said as you stepped aside. You expected an upset retort, maybe even a teasing one, but what you got in return was her head lifting, eyes locking with yours.

She had been crying.

You had plenty of experience with crying girls ─ not that it was something to brag about ─ but you never had a friend crying right in front of you. As a good friend and human, you stood there with your mouth agape, without a clue of what to do. She averted her eyes, embarrassed by your reaction, and muttered a “Can I come in?” so small that it could almost break your heart.

What the fuck had happened?

You gestured for her to come in, eagerly, watching as she dragged herself, kind of curled up as if she was trying to hide from the world. You had seen Y/N mad, happy, annoyed, embarrassed… You had never seen her broken like this. You decided not to ask much, and she made her way to your kitchen, picking up all the alcohol that had been left there from your “party” on Friday.

If you knew any better, you would have stopped her sooner.

Now was a little bit too late for that as she squeezed your thigh for the tenth time that night, body leaning to your side as she rested her head on your shoulder. She rambled about something you couldn’t make sense, complaining about how she couldn’t understand how everyone was so messed up around her.

As far as you figured, she fought with someone.

Maybe more people.

It could also be about a baby or a small animal? Really, you weren’t following it anymore.

“… And you were right!” She hiccupped. It could also be a laugh. Maybe a sob? You looked at her blankly, not expecting to understand anything by now, just too lost to keep trying to get what she was saying “Congrats!” She giggled, throwing her hands up.

“Thanks” You answered anyway, patting her back. She chuckled again ─ slapping you lightly as if you had said a great joke ─ before she resumed crying, covering her eyes with her hands as her body jolted with her hiccups. You widened your eyes, startled at the roller coaster of emotions she was riding for the night, adjusting yourself so you could sit with your full body turned to her, cross-legged on the couch.

She mumbled something confusing, and you held her shoulders firmly so she would look at you. She didn’t, so you shook her body gently, and this was enough to make her take her hands away from her eyes and look at you inquisitively.

“That’s okay… Everything is going to be okay” You assured her, even though you didn’t know what the hell you were reassuring her about. She didn’t seem to buy your words (and you couldn’t really blame her for this), pouting to hold back her tears. Her lips quivered, brows knotting as her eyes glittered with her tearing up. Oh boy…

“They hate me” She stated sorrowfully. The first statement you could understand. And it was enough to fuel you with new hope of being able to help her somehow. You tightened your grip on her shoulders, inviting her to look at your eyes, which she did, and you locked your gaze with hers with the most serious feature you could gather.

“Of course they don’t” Who were they? It didn’t really matter. You maintained your gaze stern enough for her to believe your words, and finally, she sobbed, nodding in understanding. You let out a relieved sigh, letting go of her shoulders “It’s all good now, okay? Tomorrow morning we can talk to them and everything will be fine” You promised.

She wouldn’t even remember what you said by tomorrow morning.

“How did you know?” She asked sadly, looking into your eyes like a lost puppy. That was a great question because you didn’t have any idea of what you were supposed to know at this point. So you arched your brows, looking like a deer in headlights, stuttering to get your words out.

“W-Well, wasn’t it obvious?” You offered, uncertain, and she seemed to buy it, sighing in disappointment. She nodded, shrugging right after, the pout never leaving her lips. You fought back the urge to sigh in relief, settling for exhaling slowly, afraid she would realize you didn’t know what was going on.

She stared at you for a few seconds, blinking repeatedly, deadpanned.

You just wished she was drunk enough to not realize your obliviousness.

“Thank you…” She muttered, kneeling on the couch. You looked at her confused, the frown you had dissolved quickly into a startled ─more to desperate, really─ expression when she put her hands on your chest, close to your shoulders, supporting herself. You gulped down as she leaned closer, knee coming to the gap between your shin and your crotch, brushing slightly against your lower half.

Not that you particularly noticed it.

Because you didn’t. Really.

“You’re a great friend” She giggled, hands sliding from your chest to entangle your neck, pulling you into a hug.

You couldn’t point out what it was exactly.

Maybe it was her arms involving your neck, fingers playing with your hair. Maybe it was the drowsy smile she threw your way, too soft to your heart. Maybe it was the way she rested her head on your shoulder, facing the crook of your neck. Maybe it was her hot breath fanning over your skin, making you shiver.

Maybe it was her knee brushing against your dick.

Yeah, it was definitely her knee brushing against your dick.

But you felt something in the pit of your stomach.

You swallowed dry, slowly leaning back in a vain attempt to get some space but she just came along with you, resting her body on top of yours as you trapped yourself under her weight. Well, of course, lay back couldn’t be a good idea for the moment. She tightened her grip around your neck, adjusting herself on your lap to be more comfortable.

The issue was that her being comfortable meant her legs on each side of your body.

Her legs on each side of your body meant she was straddling you.

Oh, dear God, if you really exist—

You couldn’t even finish your thought as she moved her head, lips too close to your earlobe. You inhaled sharply, holding your breath and shutting your eyes as you clenched your jaw. She hummed, satisfied at her positioning, exhaling a hot breath right over your ear. You could feel her warmth emanating, consuming your body in each inch of skin in contact.

“Hm… Y/N?” You risked in a string of voice, opening your eyes slowly to fix them on the ceiling. She hummed against your neck and her breath was starting to get to your head. You wouldn’t say which one “What about we go sleep, hm? Sounds nice?” You offered as if you were talking to a child. She whined, displeased by your suggestion. Apparently, she was way too comfortable on your lap.

You swallowed dry again, closing your eyes slowly as you felt her changing her position once again. Why, Lord, couldn’t she find a damn good position and stop grinding against your dick? That was a poor choice of thoughts. As soon as you let your mind wander down there, you held back a whine, throwing your head back to pray for mercy as you got more conscious about what was happening to your body by the second.

It was impossible not to feel the blood rushing down, hardening your dick against your will. At the same time, the blood seemed to rush up, making you all flustered, even if she was too drunk to notice it now. She didn’t seem to mind your bulge ─she probably wasn’t even paying attention to it─, and some sick part of your mind wished for a split of a second that she could just sober up out of nowhere and mind it.

Maybe mind it enough to the point of helping you out.

Nop! You didn’t just think this.

Okay, Okay Okay.

Cool, Cool, Cool.

You definitely shouldn’t be thinking like this! You should be gathering all your strength and willpower to push her away from you. That was what you were supposed to be doing right now. But what if she started crying again? Or maybe even worse! What if she just decided to do something else? Like keep moving nonstop… She was clingy as fuck right now.

Another poor choice of thoughts.

You definitely didn’t let your mind wander around the mere mention of the word fuck. Not at all. Especially because she’s your friend now. Do you remember this? Friends? Like just friends? You were sure the word friend stood up for that one you’re not allowed to fuck. In Latin. Or whatever. Whichever language stated this, it was right. That was the exact reason why you were in peace right now. The non fucking friend peaceful state. Totally fine and unfuckable. Like friends.

Cool.

Fine.

Perfectly unaware of grinding bodies and their effects on your lower half.

Please, God, let me out of here.

As if on cue, you heard the door being unlocked. You threw your head back to watch it, ready to beg Chan for his help. She didn’t move an inch, staying attached to you like a koala. Chan opened the door, locking it behind him before turning around to really look at the couch. He flinched, staring blankly at you before amusement filled his eyes by the second.

“Please help me out” You pleaded, making the best puppy eyes you could handle to do. He made his way to the TV, standing in front of there before looking for something in his pockets. When you saw his phone in his hands, you let out a whine, glaring at him as you silently asked for mercy.

“There’s no way I’ll let this chance slide” He shrugged you off, and you just knew he had taken those photos. Great. Would you ever live it down? Chan’s voice seemed to awaken something inside Y/N’s head, so she adjusted herself once more, lifting her torso a little bit to look at her friend with a drowsy smile.

The slow movement demanded some weight shifting, and, of course, she shifted it all to your lap. You groaned, hand going to rub your face, refusing to look at Chan right now. She laid down again on your chest, giving up on being friendly and settling for being sleepy. Lord, couldn’t she just decide what she was going to do?

“You don’t seem too bothered by it” Chan teased, a smirk on his face and an arched eyebrow made it clear he didn’t intend to help you out right now “I would even risk saying that you’re enjoying quite a bit” He added, and it was impossible to bear his smugness.

“Look, I have a hot chick up on me right now… Can you really blame me? Also, she’s your friend! You should be concerned and helping her out, okay? I’m your friend too! You could give me a hand!” You complained, and you knew you screwed up when his smirk morphed into a grin.

“Oh? A hot chick?” He teased, and you closed your eyes in regret.

“I mean a chick” You corrected but it was too late.

“Yeah, but a hot one” His voice dripped with a knowing tone that made you open your eyes again, looking at him in defeat.

“No, just a chick… Listen, can’t you give me a hand?” You cried, looking expectantly at him. Chan seemed to wonder, hand going to cup his chin as if he was in deep thought, eyes narrowing before fixing on you in a silent mockery.

“Sorry, I don’t really like boys” He apologized obnoxiously. You could punch his face right now. Was this the guy you wanted to keep being friends with and fought over with Y/N for? Great deal! “So I can’t really give you a hand… You’ll have to deal with it for yourself” He sighed in mock guilty, making your blood boil. You clicked your tongue before grimacing at him, hands trailing to Y/N’s hips, getting his attention, sharp eyes fixing on your hands like a hawk.

“You know what? I may have to get off…” You agreed, voice dripping with venom as you approached your lips to Y/N’s ears “Wouldn’t you give a helping hand to your friend?” You whispered in a tantalizing tone, loud enough for Chan to hear and finally snap at the situation.

Y/N nodded ─ oblivious to your fake intentions, and smiling cutely at you, ready to help you out with whatever you needed ─, and you felt almost guilty to play with Chan like this as he strode your way upset. You held back your laughter, watching as he took her away from your lap, helping her to balance herself and guiding her arm around his neck as he tried to get her to his room in a stumbling mess. You sighed in relief as you realized that she wasn’t in your lap anymore and you survived this awkward moment, sitting on the couch and fixing your lost gaze straight ahead, pondering.

You weren’t naïve.

Y/N never had caught your attention as a woman… She was just that annoying friend your best friend had. She was like that constant presence in your life reminding you that you couldn’t get the spot you really wanted, and you put effort into being the same for her. For years. Those years seemed to culminate in a battle-worthy tension between the both of you that was slowly melting through these last weeks, and yet you felt stiff around her.

And you didn’t mean stiff like you were now.

It was almost like there was an invisible force preventing you to get closer to her, keeping both of you apart even though you had been trying to be friendlier lately. Sometimes you felt like you had to knock to get in, and sometimes you felt like she was already opening the door for you. There was a constant feeling of not knowing if you were too much or enough, sometimes if you were even needed.

You never felt like this with another woman.

It wasn’t like you were in love with her or something like this! It was just that if you intended to have Chan being part of your life, you had to allow her in. She had to allow you in. And as much you were allowed inside a lot of women throughout your life, this was a totally different matter. You were always the desirable one… Women wanted you, craved for you. It was as simple as that. They came for you and you came for them ─ quite literally, to be honest ─, and then you never exchanged more than a few words with them later on.

It was easy.

Your relationship with Y/N wasn’t easy…

You were growing fond of her (You really were!), but you felt always on edge as if anything you did could put everything at risk. You wanted her to like you… Maybe ask you for lunch instead of simply parting ways when she involved you in her stratagem… Or maybe actually wanting to lie down on the grass and spend some time with you while watching dramas… Or maybe just letting you pay for stuff, just like Chan did.

You wanted to be her friend.

You craved for being accepted into their bubble, and yet you still felt… Off. Like you didn’t belong with them. You knew you were being ridiculous, and Chan said that to you thousands of times, but what could you do? That was how you felt. Anxious. Tensed up. Stressed out. And all that tension, all those pin-up emotions gurgled out of you like… Like you were a teenage boy with a girl sitting on your lap for the first time in your whole life.

You were frustrated.

You could see she was a woman! Of course, you could! You weren’t blind, right? The issue was that you only knew a single way of ultimate bonding with female beings… Sex. You groaned as you felt your friend twitching inside your pants, throwing your head back on the couch as you stared at the ceiling once more. What would be better for bonding than sex? Nothing that you were aware of until now…

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a loud grunt from Chan, and a dull thud reached your ears, prompting you to get up and go to his room; peeking over the doorframe to find Chan sprawled over her. You chuckled, crossing your arms as you leaned on the doorframe, shooting him a teasing look before he glared at you, trying to brace himself but being held tight by her to the point he couldn’t move. Y/N had her hands around his neck and legs around his hips ─ looking pretty much like a koala ─, eyes closed and mouth agape as she began to make her way into Morpheus's arms.

“She’s pretty drunk” You pointed out, and Chan gave you a mocking surprised grimace, groaning as he tried to get away from her arms but failing as she only wrapped him tighter as he moved “It looks like someone is enjoying themselves” You smirked, and Chan rested his forehead on the pillow, chin brushing Y/N’s shoulder, before sighing and lifting his head to shoot you a pointed look.

“At least I don’t get a boner!” He sneered, trying to at least roll to his side “Good Lord…” He cried, muffled by his pillow once again as he buried his face in distress, unable to roll “Why did you let her drink that much? I just wanted to have a good night…” He whined, face still hidden from you.

“She had a fight with someone, I guess” You explained “She just kept drinking and rambling… To be honest with you, I didn’t get anything she said” You admitted, chuckling as he lifted his head once more, turning his face to you with a pout “Try to talk to her tomorrow morning… Maybe evening? She’ll wake up with the worst hangover she will ever have” You grimaced, watching as she snored, already peacefully sleeping.

“Thank you” Chan mumbled, and you arched your brows in surprise, tilting your head in confusion “It means a lot to me… Seeing both of you getting along, you know? Also, you let her in and listened to her…” He frowned as if he was thinking twice about his statement “Well… Even if you didn’t really pay attention” He laughed “It still means a lot to me that you tried to take care of her when I wasn’t around” He cleared his throat, uncomfortable.

“What are friends even for?” You gave him a small smile.

“Certainly not to get a boner for” He answered with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes, groaning “We will totally talk about it in the future” He chuckled, eyes glinting in amusement “I won’t let you live it down, I swear to God!” You turned off the lights, sighing as you reached for the doorknob in an attempt to end this conversation “Hyunjin” He called, his tone suddenly firm.

“Hm?” The door creaked as you opened it a little, allowing the light to softly illuminate his features, revealing a deadly serious mien.

“I don’t think I even need to say that… But don’t you dare touch her as you do with other women” He warned dryly “I’m being playful about this because I know you didn’t mean anything by it... But if you play around with her for even a second–“

“I can’t even think about fucking her” You lied, chuckling “She’s all yours, buddy… I just want to be friends” At least, this you meant for real “I didn’t have much time to release my frustrations with all those assignments, and exams coming up” You shrugged “I’m just a little bit hornier than the usual” You laughed, trying to reassure him.

“Just keep it inside your pants” He said kinda jokingly but you could still hear the silent threat under his tone “She deserves someone who loves her… And unless you have something new to say to me…” You snorted, shaking your head to deny the suggestion.

“No, I don’t” You assured him, observing how he tried to roll to her side once more, finally succeeding and letting out a relieved sigh, “Now let me sleep, will ya? I’ve already been kept up long enough by your protégé” You joked, closing the door as he adjusted her to his side, trying to get a better position to sleep.

“Goodnight” You heard him muttering when you closed the door.

“Goodnight” You answered, even if you weren’t sure it was meant for you.

////

You woke up with morning wood.

You groaned, pressing your palms against your eyes as you felt the shame wash over you ─ crushing you against the mattress and making you sink in your bed, devasted ─ before your rested your hands on your chest and fixed your gaze on the ceiling. You bit your lip, glancing at your groin as you wondered if it would be that bad to take care of it… You weren’t doing anything wrong, right? It was perfectly normal to get hard to the thought of… Of what? You couldn’t even remember what you had just dreamed.

You slid your hand down your body cautiously, closing your eyes as soon as you felt your palm against yourself, gasping. You had to contact some of your hookups someday, it wasn’t going to do you any good to keep thirsty like this. You pinched the waistband of your boxers, ready to slip your hand in and get rid of your problem before the door opened with a creak. You jolted your body up, hand snapping back to the mattress as you swiveled your head to confront the intruder, meeting Y/N’s gaze as soon as you turned around.

“Oh! Morning” You blurted out, startled. She came into your room without your permission, closing the door behind her and locking it, turning around to look at you with coy eyes before biting her lips. You gulped down, scanning her from head to toes “What do you want?” You asked warily, licking your lips as she made her way to your bed.

“You” She muttered under her breath, leaning in your way “And I think you want me too” She whispered, palming you above your pants, enticing a groan from you. The moment was insanely bewildering, and you could only gasp as she slowly passed one of her legs to the other side of your body, lowering her body to sit right on your groin. You shot your hands to her hips, holding her down so she couldn’t move, feeling your throat go dry as you looked into her lustful eyes.

Holy fucking shit.

“Look, I promised Chan I wouldn’t lay a hand on you…” You tried to reason but your thumbs rubbed circles on her hips unconsciously, and you had to use every single fiber on your body to not just squeeze that flesh and throw your friendship out of the window. She chuckled ─ something closer to a low purr than actual laughter ─, fingers going to your lips to shush you on a sexy motion that could have made you lose your mind with any other girl.

But not with her.

You couldn’t lose your mind with her.

“So don’t use your hands” She whispered against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your body “I’ll do all the work for you…” She nibbled your earlobe as she placed her hands over yours, guiding you to squeeze her hips before locking her fingers with yours, pulling your hands above your head to pin your down “… Hyunjin” Her voice sounded like dripping honey, warm and full of sweet promises that you were more than up to take.

“We can’t be loud” You gave in and she smirked against your jaw, placing an open-mouth kiss there and tracing a path to the crook of your neck “H-He can’t know…” You added, voice trembling when she lowered her kisses to your collarbone, biting on your skin at the same time she rolled her hips, making you grunt.

It was like your moan was cloistered inside your chest, ready to be all let out now that you had her above you. She chuckled against your skin, adjusting her hold on your wrists to tease you with her other hand ─ her nails on a featherlike brushing down on your body ─, enticing one more groan from the depths of your chest.

“I’m not the one moaning like a bitch in heat, am I?” She asked amusedly.

Yeah, she really wasn’t.

You know what? Fuck it.

“I think we should change that” You suggested in an alluring tone before yanking your hands away from hers to hold her waist and invert your positions. You hovered over her like a predator to his prey, letting the sexual tension between both of you build-up to the point it was hard to breathe. You leaned closer to her, taking your time to tease her, getting off on how she withheld her breath, expecting your next motion “Be as loud as you want… I’m about to fuck your brains out of you” You smirked against her ear, letting your breath spread there just enough to make her shiver before sucking on her neck to get the most lustful moan you have ever heard.

Good girl.

Your phone blasted your ringtone for dear life.

You jolted your body up as you shot your eyes open, looking around the place to make sense of what was happening. There was no one to be seen under you, or above you, or anywhere else for that matter. Holy fucking crap… You had a wet dream. You brought both of your hands to your face like you were about to pray for some forgiveness, but you just inhaled deeply, utterly in shock at what had just happened.

And your phone had no respect for your embarrassing moment.

You reached for your phone like it was your worst enemy, taking the call without even looking at whoever was calling you on a Saturday morning. You pressed the button and slid it to the side, bringing the phone to your ear, spitting an upset “Hello”, and prepared to send this person to the ends of hell if it wasn’t the most fucking important thing in the whole world.

You shouldn’t be so enraged by this situation, and some part of you felt ashamed for your reaction. Were you upset because someone was calling you early in the morning? Or were you upset because this call interrupted your dream? You cleared your throat, dropping the thought as soon as it flickered in the back of your mind.

“—Hello? Hyunjin? Are you there?” Paris’s voice sounded through the line in a worried tone “Hey? Hyunjin? Did he hang up on me?” She mumbled, confused, and you took the moment to clear your throat once more.

“Hey! Yeah, Hyunjin speaking” You sighed “Why are you calling me this early?” You whined, and she scoffed on the other side.

“It’s noon” She pointed out in a judgmental voice “Also, is Y/N with you guys? Did she sleep there?” You could tell the expectation under her voice was a mix of frustration, fear, and hope, and as soon as you hummed to confirm it, she let out a relieved sigh “Oh! Good!” You waited for a second but she kept silent on the other side, just her breathing assuring you that she was still there. You pursed your lips, unsure if you should just end your call, before her breath halted, catching your attention.

Paris was acting strangely.

“Why didn’t you call her?” You asked suspiciously and she withheld her breath as if you had just caught her red-handed “You guys fought, didn’t you?” She hummed, clearly embarrassed, so you let out a tired huff “Do you want me to put her on the phone?” You asked tiredly, and she gasped on the other side.

“Would you do this for me?!” She beamed, making you chuckle.

“You can build me an altar or something” You joked, getting up from your bed to head to Chan’s room “I’ll warn you that she drank like a son of a bitch yesterday… She’s having a hangover for sure” You stated, knocking on Chan’s door and waiting for him to answer you “Hold on” You asked, covering your phone.

“Come in!” He shouted before you could call him, and you opened the door to meet a shirtless Chan closing the bathroom’s door behind him, holding a towel around his waist before fixing it. He shot you a curious look, ruffling his hair with another towel and making water droplets splash everywhere, unbothered. You roamed your eyes around the room, looking for Y/N but finding only an empty bed with messy sheets “What is it?” He asked bluntly, arched brow questioning you.

“I’m looking for Y/N, Paris wants to talk to her” You explained, showing your phone to him as if he could read it from the other side of his room “She’s not here?” The answer to it was clear ─ unless she suddenly went invisible ─, but Chan didn’t seem to mind it. He gestured mindlessly to his side, pointing with his thumb to the bathroom before hanging his towel around his neck and looking for some clothes in his closet.

“She’s taking a bath” He answered distracted, studying his collection of exactly the same black blouses “Maybe ask her to call later… Y/N didn’t wake up on the right foot today, to be honest” He mused, picking up one of his shirts and putting it back without a second thought “She didn’t even let me take care of her” He added, finally settling with a black shirt that had no difference to the last one he had pulled, smiling satisfied at it.

“Hey, she’s in the bath” You said monotonously to Paris “Yeah, maybe call her later?” You suggested, nodding as she thanked you, saying goodbye to finish your call. You lowered your hand, holding your phone next to your waist as you stared at Chan, who seemed to notice your awkward behavior, choosing to ignore it to search for black sweatpants to combine with his black shirt.

“What? Do you want me to strip for you or something?” He laughed, tossing his clothes on his bed as he headed to the drawer to search for some underwear “If you’re curious about them, I don’t know anything either” He shrugged, picking up his underwear and turning around to face you “She slept like a baby last night and we didn’t talk much this morning” He chuckled, staring the bed with an amused look.

You could tell.

“Look at this… She’s like a wild animal” He pointed to the sheets, chuckling, and you grimaced. Too much information, buddy. You hummed, nodding to acknowledge his statement but keeping silent, shrugging and turning around to get out of his room. You hesitated for a moment, turning around once again before coughing to get his attention.

“Try to talk to her when she comes out… I think she would listen to you better than she would to me” You suggested, biting your lips “I mean, it must have been pretty serious… She cried a lot last night, and Paris didn’t even know she was here” He tilted his head at your statement, seeming to ponder something.

“I have known her for a long time… I don’t think anything I can tell her now will make her call Paris if they fought that badly” He admitted, crossing his arms over his chest “I can certainly try, though” He added quickly, heading to his bed to fix the sheets “I’ll talk to her later… Let her have her moment, for now, I don’t think she’s feeling well enough yet” He concluded, sitting on his bed to look at you.

“Yeah, of course…” You nodded, motioning to get out of his bedroom “Do you want some coffee? I think I’ll make some for me” You offered, and he frowned at you in confusion, tilting his head to the side.

“You don’t drink coffee” He stated matter-of-factly, arching his brow.

“Of course I do!” You scoffed, sounding fake even to your ears, and averting your gaze from him.

“No, you don’t… I live with you for ages, Hyunjin, I am the only one who drinks it in this house” He inhaled sharply in sudden realization, letting a smirk slowly spread through his features “Actually… I may know one more person who likes to drink it” You didn’t need to look at Chan’s face to see that he was mocking you silently with that I-See-You-I-Know-You look, brows arched and eyes glinting in amusement.

“I’m just trying to cheer her up a little bit” You muttered grudgingly “Isn’t it what friends do?” You returned your gaze to him, and he smiled sincerely at you, nodding as his eyes softened, his playfulness dissolving into gratitude.

“Yes, it is” He agreed “Thank you for taking care of her… I’m glad you guys are getting along well" He admitted, glancing at his clothes before looking at you “Though I think you’re being too attentive since yesterday” His smile turned into a teasing grin “Be careful to not fall in love, horny boy” He mocked, and you groaned in embarrassment.

“Let it go” You pleaded, rolling your eyes in faux exasperation.

“Make me some coffee and I’ll think about it” He retorted, making you chuckle and nod as you closed his door with a jokingly ‘Yes, sir!’, making your way to the kitchen. You took a pan to fill it with water, leaning on the sink to watch the water flowing from the tap; the typical sound it made as it hit the surface making you uncomfortable. You grimaced, closing the tap and letting it rest on the oven, setting it to boil the water as you made your way to the bathroom.

You opened the door mindlessly ─ too lazy to go to your room and settling to go to the corridor’s bathroom ─, giving one step ahead before gasping and letting go of the doorknob in shock. You felt your airways block as you met the very too same thighs that held you in place earlier in your dreams, eyes wavering upward to her face and trying to ignore the amount of exposed skin that made you bit your lips. Y/N snapped her head at you, hands tugging down the shirt she was just finishing o put on, an attempt to hide her body from your eyes.

What the hell was she doing here?!

You closed the door with a slam, feeling your heart race inside your chest as you leaned on the closed door, hands going to check your heartbeat as your mouth fell agape. Wasn’t she in Chan’s bathroom?! What the hell was she doing there?! Holy fucking shit… It was just a female body, for lord’s sake! Nothing new under the sun. Yet, it was just a female body that you dreamt about... One that you were willingly going to fuck on your mind not too long ago.

The scene played on your mind once more.

Thighs that you would like spread apart with your own hands… A belly that you would kiss every inch until you reached for the very spot between her legs that for a split of a second made you gulp down, not so dryly as you thought about it… A neck that seemed like the perfect place to leave your marks… A face that you never thought you would like to corrupt… And eyes…

You frowned.

Eyes red and swollen that belonged to someone who has been crying.

“Y/N?” You hesitantly knocked on the door, resting your head on the surface as you waited for her answer that never came “Are you okay?” You asked softly, paying close attention to any noise that she could make.

“Y-Yeah…” She answered after a while, and you were sure she sniffed, probably wiping her tears away as she spoke up, a choked voice that didn’t let you any doubts “I’m fine” She added more firmly now, and you sighed.

“Can I come in?” You asked, uncertain of what you were doing, and she remained silent for a while.

“N-No” She finally answered, a weak string of voice that made your heart pang.

“Are you dressed up?” You turned around to rest your forehead on the door, waiting for her answer with your hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah…” She sighed in defeat, and you didn’t wait to open the door, walking in her direction.

She hugged herself as if her arms could pull her together, head slightly tilted down as she raised her gaze to watch you making your way to her. She looked broken ─ red eyes and bloated face showing that she had been crying for a while ─, trembling like a deer caught in headlights and hunching her back in a way that made her look small, probably just as much as she felt right now. You approached her, embracing her body silently to give her a reassuring hug, feeling how she tensed up under your hold.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, and her hands moved to your waist hesitantly “I know we’re not really friends, and you probably prefer to talk to Chan…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling like an intruder as she held the sides of your shirt. You felt all the blood running out from your brain, afraid she would just push you away on the spot, but she didn’t. She held your shirt tightly ─ face contorting for a split of a second when she did ─ but she didn’t pull you closer, staying like this into your hold.

“What are you talking about? We’re kinda friends… Aren’t we?” She asked unsurely, refusing to look at you. She rested her forehead on your chest, and you inhaled sharply as she did, startled by her question.

“I mean… Yeah? I think… Yeah, we kinda are” You agreed, floundering with your words. She relaxed into your arms, hands sliding to tangle around your waist, pulling you closer to her into a vulnerable hug that dissolved both of your tension. You tightened your grip around her, resting your chin on the top of her head before stroking her hair gently “Paris called… She wants to talk to you” You offered, unsure if it was a good call.

“She did?” Her tone was surprised, and she lifted her head to look into your eyes, head-butting you in the process. You closed one of your eyes, in pain, scrunching your nose as you looked at her “Sorry!” She blurted, hand shooting to your chin to study the damage she could have caused. You opened your eye, watching as she tilted your head to each side to take a better look at your face, admiring her worried features for a bit too long before clearing your throat.

“I’m okay” You muttered, gently holding her wrist to take her hand away from you, noticing how she winced in pain. You frowned, taking a look at her hand to spot a swollen and dark bruise that extended over the side of her palm, starting from the base of her little finger and down to her wrist. You returned your gaze to her eyes, worry plastered over your face, and she averted them from yours in embarrassment before you took her hand in yours, caressing it carefully “What happened?” You asked as she squirmed under your touch, face twisting once again.

“It’s nothing serious… I—“ You rolled your eyes, guiding her to sit on the toilet and leaving her for a second to take some ice pack on the fridge. When you returned, she eyed you curiously, making a surprised face as you took her hand once again to place the pack on her bruise, instructing her to hold it in place “It’s okay! You don’t have to worry, it’s just –“ You ignored her once again, opening the bathroom cabinet to look for some bandages.

“I’m not really good at this” You lied, taking the elastic bandage and looking at her flabbergasted features “What? Can’t I treat your wounds? I may not be a doctor-to-be like Chan but I can ice pack your bruises, okay?” You muttered grudgingly as you sat down on the floor, facing her with a subtle pout that you hoped she didn’t notice “And yes, she did call you” You changed the subject, propping your elbow on your knee and resting your cheek on your palm “You guys are going to be okay… There is nothing that could pull you apart” You promised, and she averted her eyes from you, ashamed.

“I was an ass to her” She sighed, and you tilted your head to take a better look at her eyes, prompting her to look away from you.

“Then apologize” You stated, nudging her with your foot so she would return her gaze at you, making her huff before looking at you.

“She was an ass to me” She lowered her gaze before fixing her eyes on yours, a wary expression over her face.

“To the point that you’d never want to talk to her again? Was it enough for you to give up on her?” You asked sincerely, and she shot her brows up, shaking her head vehemently.

“No! Of course not” She said eagerly, and you chuckled, leaning forward to pat her knee.

“Then forgive her” You offered her a small smile.

85 notes · View notes

whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Note

Congrats on 500 followers!!!!! Your writing is amazing and you totally deserve it! Would you be able to do “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” for analogical? If you don’t get inspo for it that’s totally fine I’m just on a total analogical kick recently lol

@wisherbystarlight thank you!! i absolutely love analogical so here you go

Title: abject impermanence

Word Count: 3,570

Content Warnings: implied suicidal ideation (in reference to virgil ducking out), negative self image

(fic masterpost)

Virgil would rather die than admit this to anybody, but he develops a crush on Logan after their first debate.

It’s ridiculous, and bothersome, and stupidly humiliating, and he has to spend a few days in his room before he feels prepared enough to face anyone again, prepared enough to put up his usual walls and throw around his usual sarcastic comments, and all the while, his heart is beating far too fast, his mind racing, insisting that he’s being obvious, that everyone knows.

(That is what being Anxiety means: he is under a microscope all the time, his every movement watched and analyzed and derided, alone in a crowd of people who wish him nothing but ill.)

It’s awful, really. Is he truly so pathetic that the first time someone treats him like his opinions are valid, he falls head over heels for them? Because he has to admit, that’s the root of all of this. The debate, and the fact that even though Logan didn’t agree with him, he still treated him with respect, like he was someone worth listening to, and none of the light sides have ever acted like that before.

And they’ve certainly never told him that they don’t mind his company.

So. He has a crush on Logan. And it takes him a few weeks to calm down enough to really think about it, but when he does, he decides that nothing has to change. It’s not like he’ll ever work up the courage to act on these feelings

(because holy shit, how badly would that go? He can picture it now: Logan sneering at him, Logan rejecting him, Logan informing him that he would never in a million years have feelings for someone so irrational and useless, and while Virgil is at it, would he kindly remove himself from his presence and never come back and— well. Maybe Virgil is irrational, but he can’t bring himself to risk something like that)

so the only thing to do with them is pretend they’re not there, right? He’ll keep all of his emotions right here, in his chest, and then one day, he’ll die, and no one else has to know a thing about it.

He doesn’t see what could possibly go wrong with this plan. Which is odd for him because usually, he can only see the things that could go wrong. But the only factor in this plan is him, and his own ability to disguise his feelings, and he’s been successfully doing that for a very long time.

(After all, it’s been years, and none of the others have managed to figure out how much their rejection hurts him, how deeply it strikes at the heart he pretends not to have.)

But he doesn’t anticipate things changing. He doesn’t anticipate trying to duck out, at least, not until the moments in between making the decision and actually going through with it, and he doesn’t anticipate anybody coming after him. He certainly doesn’t anticipate their reactions, doesn’t anticipate being told that he’s important,

(because since fucking when?)

and doesn’t anticipate their acceptance.

He doesn’t anticipate telling them his name.

And alright, maybe he could deal with all of this. Maybe he could ease his way into being one of them, edge his way into their inner circle. It’s something he once would have thought impossible, but now, they seem determined to make him one of them, to bring him into their family, and even though part of him wonders whether they’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t duck out again, doesn’t hurt Thomas, a larger part of him is ecstatic about the fact that they’re including him at all. Maybe he can let himself have this, for once.

But that night, Logan comes to his room.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, and reluctantly, Virgil takes off his headphones.

Because, yes. Of course. He’s hardly busy, and even if he were, he’s certain he’d figure out a way to put it aside in favor of Logan, because really, he’s helpless to do anything else.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, aiming for casual. He thinks he makes it, if only because he is very practiced in hiding how much of a mess he is internally. “What’s up?”

Logan looks uncomfortable, a bit shifty, even though he hasn’t been in his room nearly long enough for its effects to take hold.

“I merely wanted to check in with you after today’s events,” he says, and then pauses, biting his lip, something that Virgil finds incredibly distracting. “Specifically, to ensure that you are alright.”

He blinks. “Of course I’m alright,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Well, I was considering everything that happened, and it occurred to me that we glossed over precisely what ‘ducking out’ would have done to you in the long term.” In an oddly vehement motion, Logan shoves his glasses further up his nose. And Virgil knows very well that as the embodiment of Logic, Logan tries not to display his stronger emotions, but right now, he is the perfect picture of distress. “I find it likely that if Thomas had been unable to utilize you for an extended amount of time, you may have… disappeared, for lack of a better word, not unlike a muscle that atrophies after disuse.”

Well, yes. He knew what he was risking. But he’d felt low enough that he didn’t particularly care about himself.

He was just tired of hurting Thomas.

(And maybe, just maybe, if there was a part of him, small and insidious in the back of his brain, that found the prospect of nothingness appealing, he’ll keep that to himself.)

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But that didn’t happen. You guys came and got me, and I’m okay now. Not gonna do anything like that again, I swear.”

“That’s not my point,” Logan says, even more upset entering his voice. He crosses his arms, holding his shoulders tensely. “No matter how illogical it might seem, I find myself wondering what might have happened had we not attempted to reach you in time, and the idea is… displeasing.”

Oh.

Despite himself, Virgil’s heart flutters.

“So, I arrived at the conclusion that assuring myself of your continued well-being would help to assuage my concern.” Logan fidgets. “As well as the fact that… I want you to be alright. For yourself, and not just because I am…”

“Anxious?” Virgil can’t resist finishing, even as he feels his face flushing underneath his foundation. God, he hopes Logan doesn’t pick up on that. He shouldn’t be reacting this strongly to something as simple as basic worry, especially after the day they all had, but to know that Logan has been thinking about him? That Logan doesn’t like the idea of him not being around, doesn’t want him to vanish?

That Logan cares enough to come check on him like this?

It’s a strong, heady feeling, and Virgil has the sneaking suspicion that his crush has just upgraded itself.

“Yes,” Logan answers, and he seems a bit embarrassed, but he holds his ground, staring Virgil straight (gay) in the eyes. The direct eye contact is intense, almost too much for him to handle, but Virgil finds himself unable to look away.

“Well, uh, I appreciate it, I guess,” he manages. “Really, it’s nice to know that you care.”

“Of course,” Logan says, and seems almost indignant at the idea that he might not. “I value our discussions,” he adds, and Virgil has to pretend that that statement doesn’t almost give him a heart attack.

But that is mostly the end of that conversation, because really, neither of them is very good with touchy-feely emotions. Logan sinks back out shortly after, and Virgil is left alone in his room, his headphones lying uselessly on his lap as his mind reviews their exchange over and over again, searching for all the places where it might have gone wrong, or where he might have messed up. He can’t really find any, and that is a realization in and of itself, almost enough to distract him from the bigger one, the one that looms over him.

It’s not just a crush anymore. He could try to deny it, but he thinks that would summon unwanted attention. So he accepts it, accepts that he is… he’d say infatuated, but infatuated isn’t the right word. Infatuated doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels when he looks at Logan, doesn’t cover the way his heart races and his words trip over themselves and the way he longs for his approval. It doesn’t cover the way he knows so many little details about him, like the way Logan pushes at his glasses or fiddles with his tie when he’s nervous or upset, or the exact way his lips curl around the edges when he’s pleased and trying not to show it. So many little details, none of which would be on his radar at all if he wasn’t—

Well. He won’t deny it. But he doesn’t particularly see the need to voice it, either.

After all, it’s not like it changes anything. Or at least, it shouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on sharing his feelings when they were a simple crush, and he’s certainly not going to share them now that there’s more.

Except, nothing is ever that simple,

(Nothing ever can be, with him. It’s what he does best, turning easy things into overcomplicated messes because he can’t let go of all the what ifs—)

because suddenly, he’s welcome to spend time with the others. Is welcome at their table, is welcome in the commons, is welcome to join their movie nights and their game nights, and most of the time, he even feels mostly okay with doing so, because Patton is enthusiastic in his invitations, and he can tell that even Roman is honestly trying. And sometimes, it makes him want to cry, because this is all he’s ever wanted, to be one of them, and now he can and it’s almost too much.

The only problem with that is that he’s spending a lot more time around Logan.

Which is fine. Great, even.

Except, sometimes, Logan will do things. Little things, inconsequential things, but things that remind Virgil all too clearly of the feelings he keeps nestled under his heart.

For instance, Logan bites his lip a lot. When he’s working, when he’s watching movies, when he’s listening to the others, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s a stupid thing to get caught up on, but he can’t help himself. And it’s not as if Virgil’s attraction to him begins or ends with the physical, but—

Whenever he does it, Virgil can’t stop his eyes from zeroing in on his lips. Can’t stop himself from thinking about how much he would like to kiss him.

He would like to kiss him a whole lot. And he’s fairly sure he’s being pretty obvious about it, but he can’t bring himself to stop.

So, really, he should have prepared himself for the possibility of being found out. Under any other circumstance, he would have, but there’s a saying, he thinks, about love and fools.

“Can I help you with something?” Logan says, and Virgil flinches violently, the rest of the world coming back into focus. He snaps his gaze up to meet Logan’s eyes, and the expression on his face might be amusement, maybe, but it could also be annoyance, and in fact, it’s probably definitely annoyance, because actually Logan is annoyed with Virgil and maybe even angry and now their budding friendship is completely ruined and all because Virgil doesn’t know better than to stare when he really shouldn’t be staring and—

No, stop. Stop. He’s not going to do that, not right now. He wrests his thoughts back under control with an effort.

Logan was working, typing away on his laptop, biting his lip as he concentrated. And Virgil just so happened to be out in the commons as well, in the perfect position to watch him and daydream, just a bit.

He needs to reply. He’s left it too long, and Logan’s eyebrows are inching up his face as he awaits a response. And the longer he takes to come up with something, the more suspicious Logan will be, so he should just shrug, mutter a denial, and pointedly turn his attention away. Something like that.

But it’s his job to make snap decisions under pressure. And sometimes those decisions aren’t the right ones.

So instead of taking another second to think things through and deflect Logan’s interest, his mouth opens ahead of his brain and says, “Can you please stop biting your lip?”

Logan stares. Virgil feels himself wilting.

“… It’s distracting,” he finishes weakly, and prays for the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t even manage to sink out

(because his mind is screaming at him now, screaming horrified recriminations, screaming all of the worst case scenarios, and it’s taking all of his concentration to breathe properly, much less get out of here)

because the sheer force of his embarrassment is leaving him paralyzed, curled up in his chair and with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape Logan’s widening eyes.

“Is it now,” Logan says, and he doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Virgil could very easily be wrong. Or, he could be angry and trying to hide it. Or maybe he’s not angry, but irritation would probably be just as bad, at this point.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hunching in on himself. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“Virgil, you’re magnifying,” Logan says softly, and that softness is worse than any anger could be, because what if he’s figured it out? What if he pities him? Virgil would take just about anything over pity. “Whatever you think you just said, I assure you that it didn’t come off nearly as badly as you seem to believe.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Though, I can’t say I’m certain of what you meant, considering—”

He cuts off suddenly, and Virgil can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He should leave now, leave before Logan draws his conclusions, but he is frozen, powerless to do anything but let this train wreck happen in real time.

“I wouldn’t ordinarily consider biting my lip to be a disruptive habit,” Logan says slowly. “It makes no noise and does no one any harm, and it’s not something I would think affects anyone else. But you were staring, which means there is something about the habit that draws your attention. I can only think of a few reasons for that.”

He takes it back. Pity would be far better than this, than this slow and measured reasoning, drawing out all of Virgil’s best-kept secrets, spiraling toward a conclusion that he never wanted anyone to know, much less Logan himself.

Perhaps that is why he says what he says. Because with this, Logan is only prolonging the inevitable, and it’s torture.

It’s like a band-aid. The biggest band-aid ever, maybe, covering one of the worst wounds of his life, but a band-aid. And it’s coming off one way or another, so he might as well rip it off now and brace himself for the sting.

“Oh my god,” he says. “It makes me want to kiss you. That’s why it’s distracting. And I’m just gonna go die in a hole now, if that’s alright.”

His face is burning, mortification rising up in him like a tidal wave, threatening to swamp him. This is, possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to him, ever.

(It’s not, of course, because anything and everything is better than it was before he was accepted, when he was on his own and so lonely and bitter all the time. But this comes close, he thinks. It’s a different kind of hurt altogether, but a hurt nonetheless.)

Logan sets his laptop down, giving him his full attention. For a moment, he is completely silent, and Virgil prepares himself to stand and sink out and into his room, where he will spend the next few weeks huddled under the covers on his bed with his headphones on blast, hating his life and himself for being such an idiot, because here he is, ruining one of the best friendships that he has ever known, and for what? Because he was too much of a moron to keep himself from staring, from forcing his unwanted attentions upon the one side who was more likely than any of the others to notice what he was doing? It’s pathetic, and stupid, and he knows it, and Logan knows it, and—

“I don’t see why you need to do that,” Logan says. His voice shakes, just slightly. “You could kiss me, if you wanted.”

Virgil stills. He can’t have heard that right.

Logan clears his throat. “That is to say, I would enjoy it, if you kissed me. If I’d realized you were interested, I would have broached the topic sooner.”

Hysterical laughter threatens to escape him, his brain dissolving into static, because what? And he knows he needs to say something, needs to respond, but his vocal cords refuse to work, so he’s left sitting there, staring, stricken dumb.

Logan glances away, something like uncertainty crossing his face. “I apologize,” he murmurs. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”

And that is what finally spurs Virgil to action, because Logan sounds so terribly dejected, and that is absolutely not allowed. Not when it’s Virgil that’s made such a mess of things, when none of it is Logan’s fault at all.

“Do you mean it?” he croaks.

Logan blinks, his expression clearing, and then landing on comprehension. His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stands, crossing the floor and kneeling in front of where Virgil sits.

“Of course I do,” he says, and then reaches out with one hand, cupping Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath catches, the contact shooting lightning across his face and down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know whether it’s fear or anticipation or some mixture of the two. Most of him still hasn’t processed that this is happening, hasn’t made the jump from Logan can never know about my feelings because he’ll reject me and then I’ll have no choice but to jump off a cliff to Logan knows about my feelings and he is doing the exact opposite of rejecting me hoooooly shit what do I do—

“I think about you often,” Logan says. “Ever since our first debate, if I’m being completely honest.”

Virgil blinks.

The laugh escapes him, then, but there’s not much hysteria in it. It’s something warm, now, something bright and colorful and blooming as he realizes just how much of an idiot he’s been, as his anxiety slowly begins to fade away,

(not completely, never completely, because he is who he is and that will never change, and his mind is already looking to the future, at all the fresh new opportunities he is going to have to screw this up, but for now, in this moment, he has Logan here in front of him, offering to kiss him, telling him that his feelings aren’t as one-sided as he convinced himself they had to be, and it’s very difficult to be negative at all, in the face of such a beautiful thing as this, as him)

morphing into something that he is tentatively willing to call hope.

“Yeah?” he says. “Me too.”

Before he can lose his nerve, he shifts position, leans down, and kisses Logan. Lightly, briefly, and it’s really more of a peck than anything else, but in the split second in which their lips meet, Virgil can feel just how soft Logan’s are, and when he pulls back, anxiously searching for a reaction, Logan’s cheeks are dusted with red.

“Yes, um,” Logan says. “That was… good. Would you like to do it again?”

A wave of fondness washes over him, and he lets it drag him away.

“You dork,” he says, and pecks him on the lips again. He doesn’t yet have to courage to try for more, but he thinks that might come with time. If he is allowed time, if he is allowed this, and he is not prone to optimism, but for once, he might be willing to give it a go.

Optimism, and whatever this is, new and exciting and budding between them. And there is a part of his mind that is screaming at him, insisting that he’s only going to hurt Logan or get hurt himself, and that no brief happiness could ever be worth that, but—

Logan’s lips are gentle and soft, and Logan is smiling at him, and that, he thinks, might be worth the world.

(“I would be extremely displeased if you died in a hole,” Logan informs him a bit later. “Please refrain from doing so.”

He agrees, if only because of that fact that if he died in a hole, he would never get to kiss Logan ever again. And now that he’s started, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

He is not one to believe in permanence. Or in happy endings. But just this once, he’ll try it, and trust that Logan will catch him if he falls.)

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @ldavmp4

#analogical #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #my fic #long post #cat does prompts #wisherbystarlight

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atomic-taco-muffin · 3 years

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Kingdom High Chapter 13

warnings: same as the last chapter

rating: SFW

And so here we are, Legacy Day. Where the students of Ever After High sign the Storybook of Legends, pledging to follow the paths of their fairy tale parents.

Or not.

Seriously? I'm narrating here!

“Maddie, Hana, you have to help me,” Raven said. “I don't feel like I can sign the Storybook of Legends, but I don't wanna let everyone down either,” she said.

“I feel the same way. My father has done some really bad stuff and I don’t want to follow in his footsteps,” Hana said.

“And do not forget the whole, ‘If you don't sign, your story disappears—poof!—and you may vanish into oblivion!’” Maddie said as she gulped for air. “That's a thing you know, and it's gotta hurt.”

“But we don't know if that's true.” Raven said.

“But what if it is?”

“But what if it’s not?” Hana asked.

““But what if it is?”

“You're not helping,” Raven said. Maddie tapped her chin in thought.

“Wait a tick!” she said as she snapped her fingers. “I think I know who can help.” Meanwhile, Apple and Blondie were talking by Apple’s locker.

“No, but see, I am totally a Royal,” Blondie said as Apple shut her locker door.

“Ooh! Raven!” Apple said. “There you are. We have to talk.” Raven took Maddie and Hana’s hand and ran away from Apple.

“Oh! Come back!” Apple said as she ran after Raven.

“Apple, where are you going?” Blondie asked.

“I have to convince Raven to sign the book! My destiny depends on it!”

~Small Time Skip~

Raven lead Maddie and Hana to hide in the library. She and Hana panted and was exhausted while Maddie knocked on a door. It immediately sucked them in the second before Apple came in.

“Raven?” Apple asked.

“If anyone knows the truth about the Storybook of Legends, it's Giles Grimm!” Maddie said.

“Feathers and friends! Together, alone,” Giles said as he bowed. Maddie clapped in excitement.

“He's speaking Riddlish! He was cursed with the babble spell. Makes him sound, you know...cu-roo-coocoo!” she said as she waved her fingers around her head. “He says it's nice to have us here.”

“Ask him about the book! If Hana and I don't sign, are we really gonna... uh, disappear?” Raven said.

“Mmhmm! Can the musical chair change its tone when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?” Giles tapped his chin.

“Hmm...the king who sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies,” he said.

“He says there's something wrong with the book, and that if you don't sign, your story will...”

“What? WHAT?” Hana and Raven asked. They saw Maddie set up some tea with Giles.

“Oh, sorry! If you don't sign, your story will continue,” Maddie said.

“Ah, really? Oh that's great,” Hana said.

“...I think.” Maddie took a sip of her tea.

“Huh?! You think?” Raven asked as she slammed on the table.

“Hey, Riddlish is not an exact language,” Maddie said. She flashed a polite smile at Hana and Raven and continued sipping her tea.

At last, it was Legacy day.

“Next we have Apple White,” Milton said. Students were cheering for Apple as she walked across the stage.

“I am Apple White, daughter of Snow White, and I am ready to pledge my destiny!” she said. A key appeared before Apple's hand and she took it and unlocked the book with it. Immediately the book sprung open with lifelike images of her and Raven's story. A mirror appeared in front of her and Apple viewed her future self: a perfect queen ruling over Ever After. She eagerly signed the book and the students cheered for her. Before she departed, Apple gave the crowd kisses.

“And next, Raven Queen,” Milton said. There was a lightning flash nearby and students were whispering as Raven stepped to the podium.

“I am Raven Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, and I pledge...um...I...” she said. Apple was watching from behind, eagerly.

“Come on! Do it!” she said. (A/N: the music during this scene is fucking awesome. I wish I knew the name of it!) Raven looked back to Milton, who was in the background groaning in annoyance. Raven held out her hand and a key appeared. She took it and unlocked the book and found her own story unraveled, with each illustration worse than the next. Finally her mirror of her future self appeared and it was her in chains. Raven gasped in shock. The mirror transformed into a pen and Raven was hesitant to take it.

“I am Raven Queen, and I am going to write my own destiny!” she said as she took the book. “My Happily Ever After starts now!” She shut the book and the mirrors around her shattered. The Rebel students, including Hana and her friends were cheering.

“Oh I...I'm still here!” Raven said. She turned to Milton angrily. “I didn't disappear!”

“How could you be so...so selfish?” Apple asked. In support of Apple the Royals booed at Raven while the Rebel’s still cheered.

“I'm sorry Apple, but I...ugh. Hold EVERYTHING!” Raven said as she casted a spell on everyone, making them freeze in place. “Oh...I didn't know I could do that!” She stared at her hands in horror and unfroze Apple.

“I'm sorry Apple, but I don't want anyone to tell me who to be. I wanna figure that out on my own. And don't you understand? I'm not the only one who gets to choose their own destiny now. We all do! Even you,” she said.

“But, I don't want to choose a new destiny. I liked the one I had. And because of you, it might not happen,” Apple said as she pointed at Raven.

“But it might.”

“I don't know. I...I just don't know.” Apple walked away, crying. Raven shook her head but found that the Rebels were supportive of her choice. She unfroze Maddie and Hana.

“Wow!” Maddie said as she fell down comically. “You're still here. No poof, poof, POOF! Yay!”

“I know, it feels good!” Raven giggled. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Congrats, Raven. Now we can all follow our own destinies,” Hana said.

“Thanks, Hana. I couldn’t have asked for better friends,” Raven said.

Life between the Royals and the Rebels at Ever After High would never be the same after Raven stood up for what she believed.

What she believed was wrong! She didn't honor her destiny, she tempted fate!

“Listen, Narrators! We are trying to have a nice moment here!” Maddie shouted. Her, Raven, and Hana giggled. Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Milton was staring outside the window.

“Raven does not know the forces she has released. This must be contained before her dangerous idea spreads!” he said. Suddenly the mirror started to laugh. But it wasn’t just one voice. It was two. Milton looked closely and saw the Evil Queen and Xehanort inside.

~~~~

The Evil Queen had released her spell into the air but it did not work. She growled and headed over to the man who gave her the spell. Xehanort.

“What the hell?! That spell you gave me didn’t work!” She yelled.

“Hmm, interesting. I thought that it would work for you. Guess not,” Xehanort mocked.

“Excuse me?! Weren’t you the one who wanted this spell to happen?!”

“Yes. But not someone like you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Unlike you and your daughter, mine has a stronger connection to the darkness. Only I can perform the spell.”

“Grr...you just know how to make things difficult! Fine then, perform your pathetic spell, I got business to attend to.” The Evil Queen walked away and headed over to Wonderland.

#kingdomhearts #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts imagine #kingdom hearts imagines #kingdom+hearts+imagines #kingdom+hearts+imagine #kingdomhearts imagines #kingdomhearts+imagines #eah imagine #eah #ever after high #ever after high imagine #everafterhigh

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byunhaarmy · 4 years

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(A/N: now you weren’t specific enough about it but I’ll make the “date” one of the members to make it extra angsty cuz I know we all love that don’t we. And also I included woojin cuz I love (hate) him (he needs to suffer too) muahahahahahaha)

Their Crush Dating Another Member

Chan

(did I accidentally delete his reaction while trying to edit out you know who?...yes)

Would definitely be heartbroken

Would also probably avoid you and changbin at all cost

But then he can't cuz 3racha

He tries to act cool but he's a horrible liar and everyone knows something's up

Wouldn't be able to look you in the eye

Wouldn't even be able to be in the same room as you

Eventually gets over it and is genuinely happy for you two.

Minho

Again, like I’ve mentioned many times before, this boi is the definition of a tsundere

He pretends like he doesn’t give a shit

Kinda like chan but hides it better?

Watches you and Jisung kiss from 50 meters away

(stalker?)

Acts totally normal in front of other people

Cries alone in his bed at 3 am

Imagines himself with you all the time

“Only if…...”

“Yeah Minho? What was that?”

(smiles) “Nothing”

Changbin

Didn’t expect you to have any feelings towards him in the first place

So he’s kinda cool with just being friends

He just didn’t think that you would come to him one day and ask him for advice to confess to Felix

Like the great friend he is, gives you good advice

Three days later you and Felix become an official couple

somehow proceeds to celebrate with everyone else without crying

“Binnie! Thank you so so so much! Without you, I could never find the love of my life! Binnie you are my best friend!”

“Yeah, best friend.”

Hyunjin

He has a huge ego

(tsundere no.2?)

(more like a drama queen but)

So that means he won’t admit any feelings towards you

“y/n? Yeah, s/he’s just a friend of mine, nothing special”

He’s also a cry baby

(drama queen)

Actually stated to sob when he saw you and Seungmin kissing

Trying very hard not to punch Seungmin in the face

“Awww jinnie feels so happy for us he’s crying minnie!”

“Hahaha, tears of joy I say”

Tears of joy

Definitely

Jisung

How could you fall for the maknae???

Not having it

Refuses to believe

But then sees you guys cuddling everywhere

(Turns around and walks away)

All the other members: Yay our baby innie has a girl/boyfriend

Jisung: If I just continue to stare at them maybe they’ll stop

You guys didn’t

Tells chan about it and asks for advice

Chan just tells him to try and get over it

That’s not happening

Writes a bunch of sad love songs with not at all obvious lyrics

And all that does is make him love you even more

Felix

Poor baby

Doesn’t know how to react when you came and told him Hyunjin just confessed to you

“Di-did you say yes?”

“Ofc I did dummy, I’ve had a crush on him ever since you introduced us to each other!”

Oh yeah, he was the one that introduced you guys to each other

He was the one who ended his love life

Not you, not even hyunjin

It was himself

“Oh…...yeah, well, congrats?”

He forces a smile on

“Hey, what’s the matter? You don’t look good lixie, are you okay? Do you not want me dating hyunjin? I thought you’d be happy for me?”

“No no no! Of course I’m happy for you…...”

As long as you’re happy

His feelings don’t matter

Seungmin

I’ve said that he acts like an adult more than the other 00liners

But he doesn’t handle this type of situation well

Obviously he’s still a child and hasn’t had many chances to date

Plus he’s been a trainee for most of his teenage years

So you’re probably his first serious crush

And seeing you with chan broke his heart

He loves his hyung very much

But he also loves YOU very much

So he’s basically struggling between hurting chan or hurting himself

He will try to get you before you and chan start to date

But once the relationship has been officially established

He’ll step out and mind his own business

Jeongin

This baby is actually confused

Like for the other ones they’re just confused because they don’t know what to do with their feelings

But for Jeongin

He’s confused about what his feelings are

Why does he get mad when he sees you and Minho kissing?

Why does he feel like crying every time you call Minho “baby”

Why is his heart still beating so fast even though you’re supposed to be Minho’s girl/boyfriend?

Everything is just so confusing

He knows that he isn’t supposed to feel like this towards his hyungs partner

He feels super guilty

But in the end, the more he tries to push it away, the stronger it comes back at him

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids angst #stray kids angst hours #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

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blainebigbang · 4 years

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Blaine Big Bang 2020: Posting Schedule

It’s finally here!

Tomorrow kicks off the Blaine Big Bang 2020!

Every other day, throughout the month of February, Blaine fans will be greeted with a new 25K+ fic of Blainey goodness from our 16 amazing authors and artists! Congrats to our participants!

Please see below the cut for the complete schedule:

February 1st - take my picture now (shake it 'til you see it) Author: Civillove Artist: Kanversrph Blaine likes to call this part of his life as being 'the flavor of the month'. While he enjoys being a successful model, he feels like the industry keeps taking little pieces of him. When he meets Sebastian, a nature photographer, he feels like he might get those pieces back.

February 3rd - Nothing Can Keep Us Apart Author: TeddysHoney Artist: Riverance Blaine is a Prince whose father was killed by King Burt's army. Blaine lives with his mother near King Burt's castle. One day, Prince Kurt sees him drawing water, and Kurt sneaks into the village to meet Blaine. They see one another in secret for a while. A war begins, however, and Blaine must go and fight. Kurt looks for him every day, waiting for him to return. He has no idea that Blaine has been captured by the enemy or that he's waiting for his brother to help him escape certain death. Once the war is over, Burt decides it is time for Kurt to find a mate. No one is good enough in Kurt's eyes, however. After realizing that Blaine may not be coming home and a pleasant evening spent in the arms of another man, Kurt sneaks off into the woods to cry, convinced he'll have to marry someone else and that Blaine is dead. Blaine surprises him in the forest, and, having convinces an indebted priest to marry them, the two are wed. Instead of returning to the castle, however, they decide to fend for themselves in the lawless forests surrounding the kingdoms. February 5th - Ships That Pass In The Night Author: Delightful_Fear Artist: JudeAraya Blaine has a great life, with people packing into his piano bar six nights a week as they sail to some of the most beautiful places in the world. He’s not lacking for beautiful men to share his bed either. Why would meeting the aloof counter-tenor in a touring Broadway group change anything?

February 7th - Life in Repair Author: Room108 Artist: SeblaineAddict In the wake of his most recent break-up with Kurt, Blaine returns home to Lima to lick his wounds and reclaim some measure of happiness. An unexpected opportunity to travel to Thailand with former friend (and sometimes nemesis) Sebastian Smythe, proves to be just the salve he needs. As their bond strengthens through the ups and downs of life on the road, Sebastian and Blaine revisit their lingering spark from high school and must decide whether it’s worth re-igniting or if it will be snuffed out for good.

February 9th - Bicycle Patrol Unit Author: Carmelcoffeeaddict Artist: Lallagoglee When NYPD bicycle cop, Blaine Anderson, begins to fall for Kurt Hummel - the gorgeous man that he first notices jogging through the park during Blaine's patrol - it causes a rift between him and his patrol partner, Sebastian Smythe.

February 11th - The Silver-Scaled Mark Author: Jayhawkwrites Artist: Michaelscribbles Blaine is a half-elf living in a town of full-blooded elves. He doesn’t fit in and is bullied almost daily for his heritage. One day Blaine finds solace in the library and later finds a book that talks about the magic in his world. He is drawn to it and wants to learn all he can. After Blaine has consumed all of the books in his town, he goes off to college to become a wizard so that he can help protect those that are not able to adequately defend themselves. Once he has graduated, he finds that he and several companions are part of a prophecy that will help unite the races in his world. February 13th - Out of the Blue Author: Lilyvandersteen Artist: Redheadgleek Kurt organises a fake wedding for Brittana to get presents from random billionaires. Cooper is one of those invited, and he shows up with his brother in tow. Sparks fly, but not of the good kind. Enemies to lovers, anyone? With a slight Pride and Prejudice vibe?

February 15th - Let It Be Me Author: Darriness Artist: Usurix It's been three years since Blaine fell in love with Kurt but between college, jobs, social lives, and parenting his twelve-year-old sister, can Blaine manage it all?

February 17th - Wouldn't Change A Thing Author: Slaydiest Artist: Datshitrandom One the eve of his junior year at Dalton, Blaine’s dad kicks him out of the house, dumping him at the bus stop, cutting him off, and leaving him homeless. This is the story of how he survives, meets Kurt, and ultimately triumphs. February 19th - Here You Come Again Author: Kaianieves Artist: Kanversrph It's senior for Blaine, and just when things should be falling into place, he finds them falling apart. He's got a crush- hopefully nothing more than that- on his best friend, and a dance that he would rather do anything other than plan. Blaine's conflicted- should he sit out, be miserable and hope that this year passes by in a blur? Or should he embrace it, enjoy it and maybe even shoot his shot? February 21st - A Very Seblaine Christmas Author: MrsTotten Artist: SeblaineAddict Blaine loves his family and friends, he really does. But after a bad break up they just won’t leave him alone it doesn’t matter that everything else is going great, everyone is fixated on whether he is finally dating again. None of this is helped by his ex fiancé proposing to his new boyfriend at top of the rock and now all anyone can focus on is blaine love life or lack thereof. And now he’s heading home for the holidays. A whole week of crazy family, new directioners and so he tells a tiny white lie, that his new boyfriend his joining him for Christmas. Whilst waiting on a delayed flight and trying to figure out how to break the truth to everyone he bumps into the last person he expected to see, the flirty, charming green eyed ex warbler who was always able to find a way under his skin. Over a whiskey and a catch up an idea forms and Sebastian agrees to be his fake date for the holidays. But as Sebastian finds himself engulfed in the warm, happy madness of Blaine’s family and friends and warbler reunions, Blaine starts to see a new side to his old friends and as ex boyfriends, meddling friends and well meaning family start to get involved. This fake relationship could end up being the most real thing these crazy boys have.

February 23rd - broken glass sparkling Author: Merengs Artist: Purpleyin A year abroad. A chance to get away, put on hold all the issues he still needs to resolve and maybe find the bits of himself he thinks he’s lost. So Blaine takes it. February 25th - It's Not Easy (Being Stuck With Me Tonight) Author: Xhorizen Artist: Thegreatgothamrewatch Blaine had the perfect life – He was married to the man of his dreams, they lived with their best friend in the greatest city in the world, and he had everything he had ever dreamed of. Never mind the crippling depression and anxiety he dealt with each day he failed to book a job, and the lack of happiness he had in his marriage. One night, everything gets turned upside down and everything Blaine thought he knew was gone. How will he manage to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of his life again? February 27th - Is There a Twelve Step Just For You? Author: Thenameisbritney Artist: Datshitrandom "He was still the same short, nerdy Blaine Anderson he’d always been. An easy target for school bullies everywhere. Kurt was the popular co-captain of the Cheerio’s, looking down on his kingdom like a fair but firm ruler. No one was on his level, certainly not a peasant like Blaine." Or Blaine tries to tell Kurt that he has a crush on him but accidentally ends up asking for a makeover instead. Oh, dear. February 29th - The Dalton Military Academy Warblers Author: Julia3132 Artist: CinnamonT Blaine Anderson is 2nd son of richest man in the world Winston Anderson. A devastating injury brought him back to Ohio where he disappeared into the family's massive estate. Society doesn't see him again until 2 years later, when after the death of Winston, he shows up at Dalton Military Academy, a place he is totally unsuited for. Sebastian Smythe is Captain of Dalton’s elite 1st Squadron and everything Blaine wants to be…dashing, debonair, comfortable in his own skin. A real James Bond. What Blaine doesn’t know is Sebastian is actually a member of the secret organization and Blaine is his mission...Find out the truth behind Blaine's arrival at Dalton and determine whether or not it has anything to do with his father's unexpected death. March 2nd - Love, Blaine Author: Gleefuldarrencrissfan Artist: Klainiac Blaine Anderson is a typical teenager. Except he’s not because he’s hiding a huge secret. He’s gay. But after reading a confession on the informal Dalton blog, he discovers that he’s not the only closeted boy at Dalton. After a moment of courage, he emails him and ultimately starts up a friendship that will change life as he knows it. Loosely based on the movie Love, Simon.

#Blaine Big Bang 2020 #BBB 2020 #BBB 2020 Posting Schedule #Blaine Anderson #glee fic

64 notes · View notes

dmcdrabbles · 5 years

Note

*slides you a nice, shiny red orb* 'ey fam you wanna fuck me up with something about the Reader being 100% totally-has-been-since-forever-in love with Nero, but dumb rowdy angel boy either doesn't see it or is with Kyrie?

I got this one SO long ago and it turned into The Mega Ficlet™ which is super exciting for me because even though it’s not that long, I’ve never written this much for a request before (or for most things lol). I think I just really like angst, even though I have much trouble expressing it (๑•́ ω •̀๑) I hope this sad enough lmfao

–

Pairings: Nero x Kyrie, onesided Nero x Male Reader

Summary: Your best friend is getting married. Of course you’re happy for him. Why wouldn’t you be?

Word Count: 5,638

Warnings: angst, recreational alcohol use, offscreen injury

——————————————————————————————

The summer after the Qlipoth was as hot as hell on Earth, the kind of summer that got everyone sluggish, running their daily routines at half-speed. Funny how so immediately after life-shattering disaster normalcy slides right back into place, as welcome as an old friend.

Three months have passed, and Redgrave was well into its repairs. Donations came pouring in from outside cities with the unspoken sentiment of “poor thing, but we would’ve done better”; benevolence with an undercurrent of superiority. Even the Devil May Cry crew- including Dante and his brother- had returned to something approaching ‘normal’, whatever that meant for people like them.

You, on the other hand- you had been benched for most of the past three months after a Behemoth had snapped your femur like a twig. Nico had offered to build you a new leg and seemed only mildly discouraged at your reminder that you didn’t plan to cut it off. It was the second big personal disaster of the year- the first being the Qlipoth roots pulverizing your apartment building, forcing you to move in with Nero and Kyrie. You hobbled around their place and felt like a goddamn burden most of the time. You practically begged the doctor to take your cast off.

Only three months gone and normal had slid back into place like one of Nico’s vinyls, spinning round and round and playing the same familiar tune. This one’s called ‘We’ll Be Fine’.

But disasters came in three for you, they always had.

“Okay, okay, slow down!” You yell, pressing your hands against your knees as you try to catch your breath. Ahead of you, Nero slows to a stop and whips around.

“Tired already, Y/N?” He taunts, laughing. “You’ve gotten soft since we left the Order.”

“I just got my cast off two days ago! I’m a normal amount of tired,” You pant, wiping sweat away from your forehead with both arms. Your right leg is throbbing with pain, but you try to keep your steps even. “You’re just too energetic.”

With the rubble cleared in Redgrave City and most of the populace trying to hide from the heat, most of the sidewalks were prime real estate for training. Whole long stretches for Nero to torture you back into shape with. Just like old times. He could always leave you in the dust, fucked-up leg or not.

“What’s got you so bouncy?” You manage, coughing into your wrist.

Nero’s face twists a little and he cups the back of his head, elbows up to the sky as he stretches. The tension in his face melts away as he contemplates, and you almost want to look away- there was just something so private about seeing him so unguarded. He carried the weight of all his stress in his knit brow and his tensed jaw; you haven’t seen him look this relaxed since before you left Fortuna.

“Hey, what’s that look for?” You ask, taking shaky steps to catch up to him. “You get some other new power I didn’t know about?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Nero drops his arms, swings them a bit as you two start walking side by side. Nowadays it’s so obvious how much of a growth spurt he had- you can remember a time when Nero was so much shorter than you that the morning sun wouldn’t be shining behind his head like that. You have to squint just to look at him.

He rubs his nose, and you stiffen despite your exhaustion. Didn’t take a genius to know what that meant, just someone who knows him half as well as you do.

“About your new power?” You laugh, halfhearted. Weird how even emotional weight slows your footsteps these days. “Did you grow another arm or something?”

“Y/N,” He says, coming to a stop. You just keep walking, trying to keep the jaunt in your step. “I finally asked her.”

“Oh,”

“She said yes.” His voice is so soft.

Couldn’t have expected personal disaster number three to happen so fast. A chronic injury, chugging along with almost-ignorable pain just flaring up fast enough to floor you. Switch the vinyl, play another old song- this one’s called ‘Be Happy for Him’.

“Damn, Nero! Congrats!” You slap his shoulder, “You and Kyrie, getting married? Knew it had to happen eventually.”

A grin breaks out along Nero’s face, and he rubs his nose again. He wraps his arm around your side, yanking you up against his. Like this you barely have to use your bad leg and walking almost feels relaxing again. You’re so close you could tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder.

“We were hoping to have the wedding soon, maybe this month–”

“Why? Any pressing needs?” You joke, petting the air in front of you where a round belly would sit. Nero slaps your hand down.

“No!” He yelps, face red. “We just don’t know how long it’ll be before the next crisis, you know?”

That crease between his brows is back, eyes far off like he was still trying to see the future. Looking for some guarantee that they’d already suffered enough this year and could rest easy for once.

“I know.” You tell the sidewalk, as quietly as if its some kind of secret.

“We don’t exactly have a lot of people to invite, and we wanted something small.” He says, slowly. “About that…”

You round the corner together, finally reaching a part of the city with enough appeal for the people to brave the heat for. You two get more than your share of annoyed glances as passerby weave around the wide blockade you form with your entangled bodies. Nero barely seems to notice.

“Y/N, you know how long we’ve known each other?”

“Iunno. Nine, ten years maybe?” You wrinkle your nose, thinking back. “All I remember is Credo bringing this little snot-nosed runt into training one day and saying that he was going to join us.”

“Runt?” Nero snorts, “I kicked your ass!”

“Only because you fought dirty!” You jab him in the side and he twists away from it, laughing. “Remember what Credo said when they pulled you off me?”

“'Holy Knights don’t start fistfights’?”

“God, so lame.” You shake your head, willing away the less cheery memories that latch themselves to your time in Fortuna. “So like, a decade. What about it?”

Nero pauses, and realization comes to you quickly. Is it entrapment if he’s got his arm hooked around your shoulders like that?

“You’re the closest friend I have, Y/N…”

Don’t ask this of me, you want to say. Instead you stare ahead, burning the memory of this street into your mind in third-person perspective. You wonder how many of the other people around you are feeling that chronic pain of heartache stabbing at them with every throb. It’s an invisible disease with no risk of mortality; the worst symptom is just a constant feeling of being the dumbest person you know.

“Will you be my best man at the wedding?”

“Really! ‘Will you be my best man’, he says.” You burst, laughing a bit. “You’re making this sound like another proposal! No need to be so formal!”

“You’re such a pain,” Nero grumbles, taking his arm off your shoulder and shoving you. An innocent passerby dodges you by an inch, tossing a dirty look over her shoulder at you. “Will you do it or not?”

“I,” You look at the ground, at the buildings, at the dozens of bystanders watching you squirm. “I think I’d make a pretty shitty best man. I don’t know anything about weddings, you know?”

“You’re not our wedding planner,” Nero protests, “Practically just a witness.”

“What if I don’t want to ‘witness’ you and Kyrie being all lovey-dovey as always?” You quip, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Please?” Nero grabs your hand, turning you around to face him. The two of you are taking up the entire sidewalk- you’re probably shoved once or six times, someone probably yelled at you- but it doesn’t even seem to matter. You stare at him, transfixed. You’re pretty sure you’ve never even heard him say ‘please’ before. “I want you there.”

God dammit. That’s not even fair.

“Okay.”

—

It’s three weeks before the wedding, and Nero’s picking out his tuxedo. You had feigned some horrified shock at the idea- you’d never seen someone force him into formal wear before, let alone seen him wear it willingly. You were half sure he asked you along just to spread the misery.

“If I knew the job meant giving you fashion tips, I would have charged you.” You grumble, shifting uncomfortably on the fitting area couch. Weird how they could spend so much money on interior decorating and still make the place so awful to stay in. Still, it was the only place that had managed not to get destroyed by the Qlipoth, so it wasn’t like you had many options.

“Right?” Nico drawled, foot kicking so fast it practically vibrates. She’s been on edge since the attendant confiscated her cigarettes. She sticks out against the artistic monochrome of the store like a tattooed sore thumb. She leans full on against you, the literal to your metaphor of leaning on her. It’s easier to tamp down the melodrama with her crowing in your ear every other minute. “Maybe the wedding should be trash bag themed. Kyrie would still look cute.”

“Oi, quiet out there!” Nero calls from the other side of the stall. “Nico, what’re you even doing here? You’re a bridesmaid!”

“Maid of Honor,” Nico corrected, “And you need all the fashion help you can get. Now are you coming out here, or what?”

The dressing room creaks open loudly, and Nero takes his first step out. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks almost…sheepish. You’ve never seen him look like that before, and it hits you with a sudden rush of wondering how many other sides of him you’ll never see.

At the beat of silence he spins around and looks at himself in the hallway mirror. He seems so much taller and broader in a suit- he’s nearly as big as Dante now and he looks it.

“Nero, you look…” You start hesitantly. The pause could last a second or an hour and you wouldn’t know any better- it’s unbearable. And punctuated with a loud slap as Nico smacks your thigh with her open palm, jolting you out of your seat as you wheel on her with wide eyes. It throbs in familiar pain again and you clutch it mindlessly.

“Damn, Nero! You ain’t look half bad when you’re cleaned up!” Nico locks eyes with you, a broad grin on her face. “You tell him, Y/N!”

“Right!” You blurt, following her lead. “Never would’ve guessed you’d look so good in a suit.”

Nero glances at you over his shoulder, smile softening his features back into that unfamiliar little boyish look. The wedding date’s barreling towards him and Kyrie faster than Nico in her van, but every day his face seems to hold that unguarded bliss for a little bit longer.

“Good thing, I don’t think Kyrie would have wanted me to get married in street clothes.” He turns back to face the mirror, tugging the hem of his suit again like he’s not used to jackets that fit right. “You don’t think the blue is too much?”

“It brings out your eyes.” You explain. You had picked it off the rack for him with that in mind. Nero’s eyes meet yours in the mirror for a moment, and you wonder if you can play off that softness in your voice for some sort of sentimentality.

My best friend is getting married to the love of his life and I get to be there for every second of it. I’m so happy I could just die.

“Thanks. I guess this one’s probably it then, huh?” Nero looks down at the suit again, pinching it off his body to look at the fabric. It really is a good match, and you tuck away the little factoid that you’ve spent so much time staring into Nero’s eyes that you’ve memorized their lovely grey-blue.

“You don’t even wanna try the one I picked out?” Nico pouts. She pulls a half-smoked cigarette from her shirt pocket and sets it between her teeth. “Fine, fine, go on and change. We’ll see y'out front.”

Nico has the decency to wait for Nero to get back in the stall before she accosts you. She grabs your arm and yanks you up from your seat, dragging you around the corner and behind the racks of suits. These ones are so expensive you don’t have to worry about customers coming by. How clever. Her fingers are like daggers in your bicep when she spins you around.

“Nico? What the hell are you-”

“Okay, listen here.” She whispers, stabbing your chest with one of her little dagger fingers. Her cigarette stays surprisingly steady between her pursed lips. “I know what’s goin’ on with you-”

“There’s nothing going on with me,” You whisper back, slapping her finger down and rubbing your bruised pec. Your heart races under your palm.

“Hey, hey, shut it!” Her voice climbs until an attendant looks over, and she drops it back down into a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me when I say I feel for you, but you can’t be doin’ none of that-” She clasps her hands together and flutters her eyelashes at you, then snaps back into a stern pout, “Around him, y'know?”

You open your mouth, then close it. Who cares. I’m already obvious.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” You whisper, and Nico has to lean in even closer to hear you.

“Well of course you ain’t,” Nico slaps you in the arm, glancing around the corner to make sure Nero’s still in his changing stall. “Nobody’s looking that tragic on purpose.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Listen,” Nico’s voice drops into a more serious tone, and somehow it makes you nervous. “I’m gonna help you out here. You work with me, and we’re gonna get out of this with minimal damage. It’s a goddamn miracle Nero ain’t already noticed the little crush you got on him, homewrecker.”

The relief drops back down into the pit it rose from. She might as well have slapped you, would’ve been just as funny and hurt less.

“I’m not a fucking hom-” The dressing room door’s creaking cuts you off, and Nico snaps away from you faster than you can finish your sentence. Nero whistles lowly as he turns the corner, suit folded over one arm and lifting the price tag.

“Damn, Y/N. You really know how to pick 'em. This suit’s the most expensive thing I’ll own.” He sighs and let the tag hang, looking up at you and Nico for a moment. He double takes the expensive suits around you, face pulling into a wince. “I am not trying any of those on.”

It’s two weeks before the wedding, and Nero is practicing old drills with you. You never would have thought he’d be the one to suggest it- back when you two were teenagers he hated those drills more than anyone else you knew. Not that it meant his form was ever sloppy; he just played fast and loose with the rules and his sparring never suffered for it. You, on the other hand, had found comfort in the repetition of the exercises; you would practice them over and over until they stuck in your head like ‘Be Happy For Him’.“I can’t believe you still remember all the steps,” Nero mumbled into his shirt, lifted to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He had shoved Red Queen tip-down into the dirt and you had to stifle the old habit of nagging him about it. No officers to get in trouble with anymore. “I did the drills a lot more than you did.” You snort, starting up the drill again from the top. It was nice to know your body could still make the motions. “Never saw the point in them. Nobody fights like,” Nero picks up Red Queen and copies the four steps of the starting drill, “You follow that pattern every time, you’re gonna get your ass kicked by the first person who notices it.”You roll your eyes. “That’s not what the drill is for, which you’d know if you listened to our instructors.” You switch up the first drill halfway, changing to the end part of the third drill then back to the top of the second. “It’s so you know how to respond to your opponent and always have something to fall back on. And for good blade control.”Nero stops your sword with his own, stepping up in front of you so you can see his skeptical look. “So you just go back to the old moves one way or another. But people and demons don’t exactly fight fair. What happens when you get something you don’t have a drill for?”“That’s what the control is for.” You push down Nero’s sword and straighten yourself back into your familiar sparring stance. “Wanna test it out?”“Thought you’d never ask.” Nero grins, spins Red Queen just to show off. “You gonna be good on that leg?”To answer you dash forward, sword flashing in a flurry of sweeps you already know Nero will dodge. Using unblunted weapons is a bad idea, especially at this speed, but you and Nero spend more time practicing with real blades than fake ones anyway. He recognizes the drill as expected and brings Red Queen down by his legs in anticipation of the final slash. You feint away at the last second, whipping your blade back and starting up a different drill; this one presses him to retreat back step by step.He doesn’t even try to attack. Maybe he can see the slight stumble in your bad leg, maybe he knows you’ve never favored your left so strongly before. You stop your drill halfway again and instead make a slash around his head so fast that he stumbles back afterward, a ‘what the hell?’ popping out of his mouth just as a tiny lock of his fringe falls to the floor. “Your cut was a little uneven,” You explain, mouth curling up into a half-smile. “Blade control.”Nero huffs and shrugs, ruffling the front of his hair for a moment and starting to turn away. At the last second, the dull side of Red Queen sweeps the back of your good knee and you crash to the ground with a yelp. Nero stabs Red Queen into the ground beside your head, plants one black boot next to it, and leans over you with a smirk. “Fighting dirty.”

—

It’s one week before the wedding, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table making wedding decorations. The original plan was just flowers scattered everywhere- Nero and Kyrie both loved them- but bouquets were too expensive for a Devil Hunter’s budget. So origami it was.

“Done.” Trish announced, dropping one last flawless stalk of paper leaves onto the table. You had been skeptical about Kyrie’s choice to enlist Trish and Lady with the decorations, but one glance at their work had you eating your words- they were damn good at this. “Do you need help with the roses?”

You exchanged a look with Nero, staring at each other and then the messes you two are making out of the paper. You laugh and slide over a stack of paper. “Yes, please.”

“So, Y/N, how are you holding up?” Lady asks after a moment of working in silence. Your eyes flick to Nico for a second and she raises her hands up defensively, like she expects you to attack her with some delicate handmade decorations.

“Uh,” You accidentally rip one of the petals you’re working on and you curse under your breath. “What do you mean?”

Lady looks between the two of you for a moment, mouth twisting into an amused half-smile. “Your leg?”

“Oh. It’s fine.” You flex your leg out as if to test it again. It responds with a resounding throb of pain. “Would be even better, if somebody didn’t decide to clothesline me with his sword.”

“Come on, I barely hit you.” Nero grumbles, waving away Lady’s dubious look without glancing up from his rose. He’s starting to get the hang of it.

“I figure after the ego bruises heal I can get started on finding a new place.” You continue, just as Kyrie walks in with the snacks for everyone. She stops short, mouth falling open in surprise just as Nero turns to you with an almost identical expression. It would be funny if it wasn’t directed at you.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you planned on moving out so soon!” Kyrie starts up again, placing food and drinks on the table as she watches you with a strangely worried look.

“Ah, well,” You take your drink and gulp it down to spare yourself some time. “After the wedding I thought it would be nice for you and Nero to have the place to yourselves.”

Nero pulls his mouth in a tight line. “We’re not gonna kick you out.”

“You don’t have to,” You say, awkwardly. “I just think it’s going to be awkward having an extra roommate around.” And I can’t pay my share of the rent if I can’t fight anymore.

“You’re always welcome with us,” Kyrie smiles gently, until Nico groans loudly and makes her jump.

“Aw, come on. Don’t make it weird for’im.” Nico crosses her arms, locking eyes with you and nodding just the slightest bit. “He’s just too nice to say he wants his own place again.”

Lady and Trish’s eyes ping-pong between the four of you, watching the argument unfolding with mild amusement. You drop your own gaze to the table to avoid locking eyes with anyone.

“Well, you can stay with us in the meantime,” Kyrie pipes in. “At least until you get back on your feet?”

“Nah,” Nico fills in for you again, “Because he’s gonna be stayin’ with me.”

—

It’s the night before the wedding, and Nero is sitting with you at the bar. He’s trying to salvage something more relaxed out of this bachelor’s party that he didn’t really want, and you’re doing your best to help. Dante’s plan to “show up at the bar and see what happens’ combined with the only guests being the groom, the uncle, the estranged father, and the lovesick best friend is turning about as well as could be hoped.

“He didn’t,” Nero sounded horrified, but a grin was stretched wide across his face.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, shouting over the music and the chatter all around you. You took another cautious glance all around- you hadn’t seen Dante for well over an hour, but you still felt the need to check. “He said ‘if we can’t take Nero to the strip club, we’re taking the strip club to him’. Word for word.”

“Noooo,” Nero moaned, his entire upper body melting onto the bar even as he shook with laughter. His grip stayed firm around his beer though- he learned well from the last one. “Stripper nuns, though? The hell does he think I’m into?”

“I was afraid to ask,” You take another gulp of your own drink, eyes falling closed to savor the way the alcohol seemed to turn even your anxiety into a pleasant blur.

“How the hell did you talk him out of it?” Nero asks the bar, blindly wiping the condensation off his beer glass.

“Told him he could bring stripper nuns to my bachelor party someday.” You lean your face on your hand, watching Nero’s back shake again. You were pretty sure he was giggling. “It’s hard being a martyr.”

“Martyr?” Nero turns his head, pillowing it on his forearm as he smiles at you. God, he’s so drunk. “You’re my guardian angel.”

“At your service,” You salute sarcastically. The conversation lulls and you rest your chin on your hand, glancing around the room. When you look back down at Nero, he’s still watching you. His smile has faded back into something thoughtful. “What?”

“You finished packing up this morning, right?” Nero mumbles, head bobbing slightly with his words.

“Yeah. Nico already picked up my stuff, so I’m staying with her tonight.” You tap your fingers against your glass. “She offered to start teaching me her gunsmithing too.”

At that, Nero sits back up. “Really? You gonna have to pay an apprenticeship fee or something?”

“Pff, no.” You stare at your glass. “But I’ll be joining her side of the business. For now, at least.”

Nero stares at you for a second, mouth open. “The hell? And you didn’t tell me?”

“Uh, sorry?” You twirl your cup, face twisting into a grimace. “I’m just testing it out for now.”

“Jeez. You’re leaving devil hunting and I’m getting married. What a year.” He sips his beer. “You excited?”

You look at Nero for a moment, not sure how to answer. How do you say ‘I’d rather it all stay the same forever’ without sounding as pathetic as you feel?

The bartender saves you, sliding up to offer refills. You accept, and she turns to Nero.

“I’m still working on it,” Nero sits up, drunk grin relaxing back into that soft expression he got so often lately. “We probably shouldn’t drink too much before tomorrow.”

“Special occasion?” The bartender asks, sliding your drink to you and picking up your old glass to clean it out. You take it in big gulps, a medicine for the upcoming repetitive conversation- you’ve heard people ask Nero about it so many times you can’t stand to be sober for it this time.

“Wedding.” Nero grins. The bartender whoops and tops off his beer.

“Finally some good news in this city. Everyone’s so damn depressing lately.” The bartender picks up a clean glass, clinks it against yours and Nero’s cups in turn. “Congrats, you two!”

The warmth in your stomach cools, then freezes. You fumble, exchange a glance with Nero. “Oh, I’m not–”

“He’s the best man,” Nero explains, red up to his ears. “I’m marrying someone else.”

“Oh,” The bartender says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Sorry, you were just looking at each other all puppy-eyed-”

“Where’s your bathroom?” You interrupt, and you must look queasy because she hands you a plastic bag from under the counter even as she points to the back corner. The second your bad leg takes your weight it crumples under you, and Nero’s arm shoots out to hold you up. You twist out of his grip.

“I’m good, I’m good-” You assure him as you stumble off, not caring who you bump into, breathing hard into the plastic bag. People sober enough to see the way you heave part way for you, clearing a decent path to the bathroom. You shove the door open as hard as you can. To your irritation, it doesn’t even make a peep. You scan the room- empty. You run into a stall. You fall to your knees in front of the toilet bowl.

And you let out a sob.

It echoes through the bathroom, multiplying until it almost feels as loud and as crushing as it feels. You grip the bowl and empty your tears into it, whole body curling into itself tighter and tighter like you can make yourself so small and weak that the pain will leave, satisfied. Every sob forces its way out of you violently. Let it out, you tell yourself sarcastically, the same way you would if you really had just vomited into the bowl like you were supposed to.

You don’t know how long you kneel there, only that by the time you finally roll onto your ass your knees are numb. You’re still crying but at least the roaring in your ears has died down enough for you to hear your phone vibrating against the tile. It must’ve fallen out of your pocket. You glance down, eager to shut it off, but it’s slid far into another stall and you practically have to crawl into it to pick the phone up. At least the gaps under the stalls are massive.

Two notifications- a text from Nero (‘you ok?’) and an incoming call. “NICO” flashes across the screen. Right. She was supposed to be picking you all up.

“Finally you answer!” Nico yells into the phone, and you wince away from it. “You know how many times I’ve been callin’ you, dummy?”

“Sorry,” You whisper into the phone. Another sob shakes you, and you cover your mouth. Too late.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Her voice is so much softer than usual and it makes another sob bubble up out of you.

“I’m so tired of this, Nico.” You whisper, voice taking on a harsh edge as you grit your teeth. “I can’t do this.”

“Hey, hey, hey lover-boy, it’s just one more day. One more day and this shit’s over and done with.”

“It’s not!” You hiss, drawing your knees up tight to your chest. When your voice comes out again, it’s rising louder and louder. For a second the music in the bar seems to climb with your voice, then it’s damped down again. “It’s not done tomorrow! Tomorrow is the ‘first day of the rest of their lives’,” Your voice breaks in a half-crazed, exhausted laugh, “And I’m so happy for them! Nobody in the world deserves it more than they do! I should know, I’ve been by their sides for almost a fucking decade!”

“Listen–”

“We don’t have the Order anymore, we don’t have Fortuna anymore, but they have each other and Nero is so, so happy with her.” You have to pause, overwhelmed by another breath-stealing shudder, “I would never want to hurt Nero. I want him to be happy.” Your whole body seems to relax at once, ragdolling you against the stall. “I just wish he could be happy with me.”

“Listen, lover-boy,” Nico starts, but you don’t hear the rest. Through the bottom gap in the stall you can see a pair of black boots, standing motionless just a few feet away. They turn slowly, and by the time you have the stall open he’s gone.

—

It’s the day of the wedding. They planned it for the evening, just a simple ceremony in a simple place with a small group of people and a simple reception. The details blur together like you’re still drunk. Nero hasn’t spoken to you since last night, and you can’t tell whether it’s deliberate. On their wedding day, grooms rarely have time to chat, let alone confront their best man on what they may or may not have heard the night before.

As planned, you and Nico walk the aisle together to your spots. You’re too slow for the music and you know it, but you’re not used to your new cane yet and you haven’t gotten the right rhythm to support your steps with it yet. Nico stayed up late crafting it for you, said you couldn’t just keep fucking up your bad leg by walking on it as much as you do. She’s working overtime to act like you’re just hungover instead of emptied out from an emotional breakdown, and when you can feel present again you’ll be sure to thank her. Until then you stand behind Nero, face schooled into a smile.

How far back would you have to go to save yourself from this feeling? The moment you accepted your role as best man? The moment Nero told you he was getting married? Your choice to follow them after the crisis in Fortuna? The day you and Nero were sworn into The Order? The day you met him?

How many years would you erase to stop yourself from being here this day, this time, standing at Nero’s side and knowing the fact it was a place no longer reserved for you?

Had it ever been?

Nero looks back at you over his shoulder, brow creased up in that soft expression that has gotten so familiar over this past month. Not a sign of fear or regret. It was the face he made when those butterflies fluttered in his stomach, when he told you about being with Kyrie, about the future he wanted together with her. A face that said he couldn’t wait for the future.

But his eyes are sad. And you have to wonder what that means.

He turns as the music started for her walk down the aisle. So beautiful in white, the fabric of her veil fluttering behind her almost reminiscent of Nero’s wings. She glows in the sunlight. The smile on her face crumples into an overwhelmed grin as she looks up the aisle to her groom and his best man, both of whom stood there with faces wet with tears.

As Kyrie and Nero step into each other’s spaces they bubble off the world around them. No pretenses between them, no expectations, just hands meeting and a whisper under Nero’s breath of her name, spoken like the most intimate word in the world.

And you stand there privy to it, like a voyeur to joy that was never meant for you or your ears.

Tonight, tomorrow, a week from now, a year, you can rebuild yourself into something that you hate a little less. You reassemble yourself just like Redgrave City has, piece by piece. You can play that familiar tune “We’ll Be Fine”, because you will be.

But for today? Today you witness their first kiss as husband and wife, and you stumble a little when you let go of your cane to applaud.

#sakkajagga #request #nero x reader #unrequited nero x reader #dd mild #had this queued since the morning and yet i'm literally editing it up to the last second lmfao

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talkingismylifewrites · 5 years

Note

Broo ok could you give me ANYTHING HONESTLY ANYTHING with a king scenario?? Like theres johanna and regina (or whatever names you want idc) and ronald (gdhdns UGLY NAME SORRY) and dominic? Like sexy stuff, fluffy stuff, sexy fluffy stuff I DONT CARE (also its understandable if you dont write genderbends i just love ur hcs and style of writing SO MUCH)

i love genderbends, don’t worry! one day i will write my joger epic wherein roger is regina, the kickass drummer who blows john richard deacon’s mind because this fandom is lacking in genderbends particularly with girl!roger

Anyways, hope you enjoy!!

i feel like??? it just goes without saying that in the king!au they’re a little more...cautious about having babies

Regina and Johanna aren’t just like, normal women, they are Musicians and their job is 24/7 and demanding

Johanna getting pregnant initially was a Big Deal and not just because of Ron’s uber catholic family but because the band had to wrap up a tour as fast as possible, start working on a new album, and schedule in some maternity leave because yknow BABY

(Johanna was SO SCARED to tell the girls?? like she was worried they’d kick her out and make her leave because it was so ill-timed)

(not that you can TIME an accidental pregnancy. and really, if we’re gonna blame anyone blame Melina because she’s the one who literally poured tequila down her’s and Ron’s throats)

(so when Johanna found out she told, in order, her doctor, Ron, her mother, Ron’s mother, the cab driver who picked her up from the station, the woman who gave her the chocolate chip scone at her favorite bakery, and then the girls)

(Regina was the first to recover from the shock. she practically flew into her arms and started babbling about how wonderful it all was, how exciting, a baby!! what would they name it?? definitely Regina, such a regal name, and of course she’ll be godmother--

While Melina tried to hide that she was crying before sending Miami off to go fetch a bottle of sparkling apple cider as they deserved a toast!

Brianna was the only one who was hesitant in celebrating, after all, they’d have a lot to manage before it came, but yes, congrats, Johanna! such a blessing)

Yes, so babies

Very strict about the babies because while little Rebecca was the reason they all got together, another baby could easily be why they all fell apart

Regina never wants to give up touring and making music, which a baby could impede

Johanna of course wants more, but she also doesn’t want to stop while they’re still going

(it’s also so not her turn, okay she only just managed to fit back into her prebaby jeans)

Ron and Dominic?

They definitely want more kids

For sure

Like Dominic just wants more little girls with Regina’s eyes and Ron’s reddish hair or Johanna’s smile and his own nose

But they’d never enforce that on their girls

So they all decide: no babies until they’re ready

(they last exactly one year)

On Dominic’s birthday, they all proceed to get absolutely blitzed on too much red wine and too much good food while on tour in the south of Spain

Regina is the one who suggests skinny dipping in the Mediterranean but its Ron who initiates the sex

what originally was just Regina and Johanna splashing each other turns into Ron carrying Johanna caveman style back into their rental house and laying her out on the floor and licking the salt from her skin while Regina throws her legs over her shoulders and goes to town

Dominic follows shortly behind, shouting that it’s his birthday and he will not be ignored like this and someone better touch his dick before he leaves them all on grounds of emotional cruelty

Needless to say, everyone :) has :) fun :)

A month later, Regina is aware that Something Is Not Right

Regina is very in tune with her body

She has to be, as it is the most important part of her job for everything to be in working order

Drumming is more than just wrists and arms, if she’s sick or her legs are hurting she won’t be able to play like she usually does

So when she begins to feel...different?

She freaks out, goes to the doctor, and discovers that their passion filled night by the mediterranean blitzed their Planned Babies Only Decision

Regina freaks and drives straight to Miami’s office because, well

there’s a huge giant possibility that this baby’s father is a married man (Ron)

Miami, who already dealt with the logistics of their relationship and potential baby the moment he found out they were together gives her a big hug

(Regina is totally his favorite he would rather die than admit it but it’s true)

And tells her that he’s already figured it all out and that she’ll be taken care of

Also, they were due for time in the studio anyways, so they can work on a new album until regina has the baby and then they’ll have the break before the tour

With the band all handled, Regina decides that all she has to do is tell the others

She goes back to the doctor, gets her first scan, and then she comes home, puts the picture of the Bean in a frame, and hangs it on the wall

“There’s no way they won’t notice it,” Regina says, resting her hands on her hips and admiring her little miracle

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

It takes them three weeks

At first it was cute

Then it was annoying

By the third week she’s ready to take the baby herself and find another three people who are more observant

Desperate times call for desperate measures

She asks Dom if the photos in the living room are crooked and he’s like, nope, they’re looking good, Reg!

She asks Johanna to help her dust, and sends her to take care of the pictures in the living room. She watches as Jo dusts for 15min, chattering away about the new album but not noticing a thing

She straight up asks Ron if he noticed the new frame in the living room and Ron was like, oh, no, but i’m sure it looks great!

She’s completely given up when Melina, Marc, Brianna, and Chris come to dinner

Dom and Brianna have commandeered the kitchen, working side by side to make a roast with lots of vegetarian options

(Dom keeps trying to hip check her away when she starts Touching The Meat because what does she know about a roast??? They are Delicate Cuts of Meat and You Cannot Disturb Them! No Brianna, it’s not too dry!!)

Her and Jo are curled up next to each other the couch chatting with Marc and Ron about the upcoming album

While Melina and Chris stand around shooting the shit and drinking beers by their record player

It’s Chris who spots it first, just out of the corner of his eye

Regina was quite proud the way she set it up. It’s just the picture in the frame, but underneath she’s written

Condom Failed: Deacon-Taylor-Tetlaff-Beyrand Baby, Due Spring 1977

She had a bit of a giggle when she was writing it, but now, knowing that she’s involved with Three Idiots, she thinks it was more than just condom failure that led her here

So Chris sees it, and he immediately drops his beer bottle, reaching out to grab Melina’s arm tightly

“The fuck, Mullen,” Regina snaps, staring at the mess on her floor.

“Are you alright?” Johanna asks, standing up to check on him

Melina stares at him, then his arm, before looking at where he’s staring

She sees the picture, and lets out a scream of excitement, her hands covering her mouth

“Holy fuck!”

Brianna comes running out of the kitchen at the sound, Dom on her heels (after he checked to make sure the roast was okay)

Meanwhile, Chris is really trying not to blubber because he really just loves babies and well, CLEARLY this is why they invited them over!

(Dom just wanted an excuse to make a roast) (he’s very proud of his recipe) (So So So Proud)

“Oh my god, you guys, congratulations!” Chris cries, moving to pull Johanna into a hug

Because let’s face it, she was the last one pregnant, so it’s a safe bet!

He’s Wrong though

“Thank you...?” Johanna says, returning the hug and making a face at Brianna over his shoulder.

Brianna shrugs

“I can’t believe it! This is so exciting, you must be so excited!” Melina shrieks, barely able to get the words out

Chris is still hugging Jo tight

He pulls back, staring at her in horror, then at the wine glass in her hand

The wine glass

That he filled

Twice

“Johanna!” he yelps, unaware that Regina is burrying her face in her hands while Johanna is Confused

“You can’t drink when you’re pregnant!”

There is a long pause

Very long

Johanna stares him deadass in the eyes and takes a large sip

“I’m not,” she says, as dry as her Merlot

“Then who’s sonogram is on the wall?” Melina demands

“What sonogram?” Ron snorts turning to look at the wall.

“God you’re so lucky you’re cute,” Regina drawls, still perched on the edge of the couch, sipping at her tonic-lime-mint-hold-the-vodka

Ron frowns

Johanna gasps

Dom freezes

“Regina,” Dom says, his voice fragile. “Regina, are you--?”

“Hi Papa.” she smirks before looking at the other three, “Daddy, Mummy. Took you long enough to notice.”

Johanna, who has never once shrieked in her life, shrieks before pressing their mouths together, her thumbs brushing the apples of Regina’s cheeks, whispering, “I love you so much.”

Ron jumps to his feet with a whoop, grabbing Regina so as to spin her around and around in circles before letting her go to yank Johanna into a kiss

“We’re having a baby!” he cheers

Dom rushes towards her, falling to his knees before Regina and buries his face into her stomach

There may be tears

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, “It’s your Papa.”

Regina runs her fingers through his hair, smiling wetly at the other three

“I hope the baby gets my brains because otherwise they’re fucked,” she laughs. “That photo’s been up for three fucking weeks!”

The three of them laugh and cry and kiss

Regina is passed around the rest of them, where they, too, press kisses to her cheeks and hands to the slight curve of her stomach

It’s not until the faint scent of smoke wafts to them do they remember why they were all together to begin with

“My roast!” Dom wails

(seven and a half months later, Regina cuddles her newborn daughter while the three stand around, all three ready to greet the newest member of their family)

("Im just saying she looks like a Tiger Lily,” Regina coos)

(”Over my dead body,” Johanna says wetly. Picking her name has been the second biggest fight in their entire relationship. “She’s too perfect for that.”)

(They name her Catherine)

(It isn’t until they bring her home to they realize their mistake)

(”This is my daughter, Cat,” Regina smirks.)

("Goddamnit,” Johanna hisses.)

#send me more hcs!!!#john/veronica/roger/dominique #king!au #roger taylor #john deacon #caro writes #answered asks

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h4rr3h · 6 years

Photo

ohio is for lovers, chapter two harry and evan and everyone else

“You look like someone punched you in the vagina.”

“Thanks, Niall.” Harry snaps.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Mission House, Green Room

169 Bleecker Street, New York, NY

“You look like someone punched you in the vagina.”

“Thanks, Niall.” Harry snaps.

He shrugs and sit next to Harry in the backstage green room of the Mission House.

“But himmmm?” Harry whines, for like, the fortieth time.

It takes Niall five deep breaths to choke down what he wishes he could say to Harry and comes up with a rare supportive comment, “for what it’s worth I don’t see her going through with it.”

“What makes you think that?” Louis interjects, “he’s literally one of the nicest people I’ve met, he’s going to be a doctor for Christ’s sake. He drives an Audi A5 Coupe, he volunteers at the animal shelters -”

“Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t aware you had a crush on him,” Harry snips as Niall faux snores.

Louis scoffs, “whatever man, she’d be stupid not to. Out of all of us, he’s the only one who actually has his shit together.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Anyways,” Harry starts, “I think tonight is a good night to play the new song.”

Niall raises an eyebrow, “you’re like four beers in, I don’t think you’re ready to play anything new in your state, Mate.”

“You forgot the two tequila shots,” Louis reminds.

Harry’s hazy, and completely drunk. He always plays better a little buzzed, he was more daring, and a little less uptight. But completely fucking blitzed? Well this is uncharted territory.

“I think it’ll be fine,” he slurs.

The longer he stands upright the more the room starts to spin. He swears he didn’t feel this drunk five minutes ago. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t eaten since this morning’s pancakes at ten o’clock.

Evan is fucking engaged to the Valium. In some ways he could believe it and in some ways he couldn’t. Louis was unfortunately right. On paper, the dude was perfect. He’d checked off all of Evan’s boxes long ago and what was even worse was that they had history. They dated on and off throughout high school and after a year apart their freshman year of college, they’d been inseparable ever since. Sure, Harry had Jordan. And he did love her in a way. What way that was, he wasn’t quite sure of yet. He couldn’t help but feel something was missing between him and Evan; some vital ‘aha!’ moment that was just six years too late in hitting her. That someday she’d wake up and feel the same way he did.

Now, to be clear, Harry is not lovesick. It ebbs and flows inside of him. He’d go weeks, even a month or two without having that tugging ache on his heart of wanting what he couldn’t have. Then he’d have a few beers and whine to the boys about it and have a shag or twelve with Jordan to set himself straight again. Before anything, Evan was his best friend. Besides Louis, of course. He cherished her friendship above everything and it made him feel sick every time he wanted her in that way.

“We’re not doing anything new tonight,” Louis reasons, “now let’s get some water and carbohydrates into you before you get up there and blow chunks, alright?”

“Did someone say carbohydrates?” Evan chimes from the doorway, wielding two large platters of food.

“Alright, we’ve got...mozzarella sticks and potato skins, take your pick -”

Harry dives in the second the platters hit the table, shoveling food into his mouth, “thanks Ev.”

Evan tilts her head towards the door, Niall and Louis catch on but Harry is too busy stuffing his face to see her subtly kicking the other boys out of the room. She shuts the door behind them when they walk out.

“You alright?” She asks when Harry finally comes up for air.

Harry feigns confusion, “yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Evan puts her hand on her hip and gives him the look, the one she gives every so often when she sees through his bullshit, and Harry knows it.

“Well for starters, you’re drunk. You never get drunk before a gig.”

“Nerves,” he replies, shoving a whole mozzarella stick in his mouth.

She rolls her eyes and takes another step closer to him. Evan reaches out, holding his face between her palms, “I know you, you’re upset over something. You can’t lie to me. I always call you on your bullshit.”

She looked at him and it was like that first night when they met when could have have kissed her the first time and maybe then they wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d perfected resisting the urge over the years as the fates had presented him many opportunities. Her eyes were watery like they were when she was holding back from crying, he’d seen it time and time again, and he hated himself for bringing her an ounce of pain like that.

“I’m just going to miss you, is all,” Harry manages.

Evan pulls him in, wrapping her arms around his middle. Harry’s resistant at first, he’s drunk and daring and feeling all too many emotions at once. He can’t say anything, and just stands there holding his arms loosely around her.

“I’m not going anywhere. I already told Huck I’m not moving until after the wedding. You still have me.”

If only he did, he thinks.

Still held in an embrace, he could feel the wetness of Evan’s tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt when she pushes her face into the crook of his neck. For as long as he’d known Evan Bosco, he’d only seen her actually cry twice; once, when their cat Gretchen died, and the second, at the end of Titanic. Evan was an level headed person; logical. She wasn’t directed by emotions or feelings, she was precise in her actions and in her life and well, if she thought marrying Jacob-fucking-Huckabee was a good idea, then it probably was.

“Are you just sure you’re ready for your last name to be Huckabee?” Harry mumbles into her ear, his chest vibrating with a quick chuckle.

Evan snorts and gives him one last squeeze before letting go. She wipes her eyes and sniffs, trying to hide her tear streaked cheeks.

“You should probably get out there, everyone’s waiting for you.”

Harry shrugs, “they can wait, you’re more important.”

Evan approaches him again, sliding her hand to the back of his head, twisting the short curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers. She lets her thumb slide against his cheek and jaw and bottom lip and Harry thinks for a second that she may actually kiss him. His heart is racing so loud he’s damn well sure she can hear it loud and clear. He notes something in her eyes, is it hesitation? You goddamn wish, he thinks.

Stupid girl. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

Evan sits around the booth with the rest of the gang, minus the three bandmates. They’ve crammed themselves into their usual spot. Sharna’s elbow is digging into her hip while Huck’s arm is wrapped protectively around her middle. Polly and Jordan are bickering over who’s more politically correct on this week’s latest cause. There’s more space now than there will be later when the eight of them are stuffed into the U-shaped booth that hugs the bar table. Empties already line the far edge of the table’s surface and there’s a mix of half watered down drinks and shot glasses in clusters that clang every time someone bumps the table.

Huck is drunk and grabby. He’s subtle, though. He’ll press a kiss below an ear and then into the smallest exposed part of collar bone. His hands will dive between Evan’s thighs and gently squeeze; ‘just warming my hands’, he’ll say. His breath smells like the three whisky sours he’s downed in the last hour and a half. Glassy eyed, Huck whispers in Evan’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “you excited?” He asks, toying with the ring on her left hand.

She smiles, “yeah,” comes out in barely a whisper.

Evan plants a kiss on his jawline, and wiggles out of his grip, “I’m gonna go get some food for the boys backstage, I’ll be back in a jiff,” she says before giving him another peck on the cheek.

She orders Harry’s two favorite bar foods; mozzarella sticks and potato skins. Jojo behind the counter adds it to the gang’s running tab that they’ve had since Evan’s twenty-first birthday nearly four years ago. She shutters to think of what the total of it is, but wipes it easily from her mind. She looks down at her hand and watches the diamond on her ring finger twinkle under the dim bar lighting.

“Damn, girl!” Jojo reaches across the bar and grabs Evan’s hand. “Huckabee splurged. Congrats!”

Evan grins, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “thanks!”

“If you need anyone to bartend the wedding, I’m your girl,” she winks, “don’t even have to pay me. Just make sure Huckleberry has some hot groomsmen for me to feast on.”

“I’ll see if he’s got any hot med school friends for you,” Evan teases.

“Looooord almighty, a doctah?” Jojo emphasizes her southern twang and starts fanning herself with a stack of paper napkins.

Evan clutches her stomach laughing, an annoyed patron at the other end of the counter bangs on its mahogany top for Jojo’s attention, “sorry, have to take care of the createns,” she mutters under her breath, and within a half second musters up a cheesy customer service smile, “what can I get for you, darlin’?”

She can’t help but feel the ring on her finger weigh her down like a dead weight. Evan blames it on the sensation of having something new (and a very heavy something, at that) on a finger that had previously been bare for twenty four years. She twists the metal back and forth, occupying herself by watching people in the packed bar. People watching was a common pastime of hers. She longed to understand the meaning of people and why they do what they do and why they don’t do what they don’t do. As Niall would always tell her ‘it’s just not that deep, Mate’ but she liked to think that human existence could be boiled down to more than just wants and needs.

The bar always seemed hazy with the strings of globe bulb lights that lined the ceiling in perfect tight zig-zags. Evan liked the dim lighting because it hid her bar burn when she would drink a little too much. It also made you feel a certain way; warm, happy, like nothing could hurt you here because everything and everyone glowed and things that glowed couldn’t hurt you.

“Food’s done!” Jojo drops the two platters onto the bartop, snapping Evan out of her momentary daydream.

“Thanks Jo! Have a round with us if you can?”

She glares to the line of people waiting, “I don’t think tonight’s the night, but enjoy one for me,” she winks.

The walk from the bar counter to the sorry excuse for the Mission House’s green room is short. In reality the green room used to be a freezer, but when the place nearly burned down ten years ago the owners converted it into a green room for local bands they hired to play. Harry, Louis and Niall were the top bill on Sunday nights. They had a small following with their band and Evan knew Harry wished he could do more with it than he was. He by no means had the dreams of becoming a rock star of any sort, but anything was better than teaching third graders how to play Hot Cross Buns on the recorder.

“Did someone say carbohydrates?” She rings, displaying the trays in her hand, “alright we’ve got mozzarella sticks, potato skins, take your pick -”

Harry lands face first into the platters before she’s had a second to finish. He’s drunk, she knows that at the very least but she wants to know why. He takes gigs much too seriously to get drunk. She spots at least four empty beer bottles while Louis and Niall are still nursing their first. She catches a glance at his bloodshot eyes when he mumbles a ‘thanks Ev’ at her.

With a nudge of her head, the other boys take her hint and leave her to it with Harry. She knows he’d lie through his teeth to the boys about what was going on in his head but he never could get a damn thing past Evan, and she knew that very well.

“You alright?” She asks gently.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, “yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Evan puts a hand on her hip and fixates her eyes on his, locking with them for a second and giving an empathetic sigh, “well for starters, you’re drunk. You never get drunk before a gig.”

He breaks the eye contact. “Nerves,” he says while gulping down another deep fried piece of cheese.

Evan knows what she’s doing well. Harry wears his heart on his sleeve and it’s never too hard to tell when he’s upset about something. When she rolls her eyes at him, she makes sure to do it nice and slowly so he can see. She closes the space between them in a single step and reaches out, forcing his face between her palms, “I know you, you’re upset over something. You can’t lie to me. I always call you on your bullshit.”

He gives her a look she hasn’t seen him give in a very, very long time. On the night they met, in fact. It happens so quick she thinks she may have been making it up in her head. Whatever it was, Evan can’t quite place it. Tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. While marrying Huck meant spending the rest of her life with the man she loved, she couldn’t help but feel her heart break when that same notion also meant leaving behind the other man she loved.

“I’m just going to miss you, is all,” he mutters.

Evan tugs on his shirt to pull him into her. She can feel every muscle in his body tense up when they touch, as if he’s holding something back from her. Her arms slither under his and she hugs him so tight she’s worried he’ll puke up all the greasy bar food he’s just shoved down his throat at warp speed. Harry doesn’t budge, and his arms lay loosely around her form.

“I’m not going anywhere. I already told Huck I’m not moving until after the wedding. You still have me.”

Forever and ever and ever and ever, she thinks.

Evan presses her face into his shoulder and lets herself cry into him. She prays he can’t feel her body shake against him as she lets out the silent sobs. Evan wasn’t much of a cryer, but when she did…

“Are you just sure you’re ready for your last name to Huckabee?” Harry’s chuckle tickles her, and his voice is so light and fragile in a way she’s never heard before.

She snorts, welcoming the lightheartedness and gives Harry one last hug before finally letting go. She wipes her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffs away the saltiness, “you should probably get out there, everyone’s waiting for you.”

“They can wait, you’re more important.”

It’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room and Evan pauses for a half moment before coming back to Harry. She slides her hands behind his head and toys with the slop of curls that lie there, twirling them around her index finger, that damn ring weighing her down. Evan’s hands slide to the sides of his face, grazing her thumb across his cheek, tracing the sharpness of his clenched jaw, and finally a swipe to his bottom lip.

Stupid boy. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

The gig is great as usual. Despite Harry being drunker than a skunk, the boys managed to pull off one hell of a show and Harry at least had the decency to start puking after they were finished.

“Water and bread for you, buddy.” Louis pats his back.

Harry is about a half step away from unconsciousness, his face buried in the crook of his arm that is spread across the table. Jordan is leaning on him, not too far behind in her state. Evan mentally prepares herself for having to listen to that all night long, neither of them were very...quiet, so to speak. Everyone is drunk and happy again and the moment in the green room is long gone from Harry and Evan’s minds.

At least for the time being.

“Hey did you invite your dad tonight?” Sharna slurs, “nope, wait. I’mma text him.”

She struggles like a child to unlock her phone and whines, dropping it to the table when it doesn’t work.

“Can you please not get that excited over my father? It’s gross.”

“Your dad is a fucking DILF and you know it,” her friend pips, sipping from the little black straw in her AMF.

Evan gags, “shut the fuck upppppp,” she groans, covering her ears.

The rest of the table is laughing hysterically, except Niall. This pisses Sharna off. She’s funny. What she said was funny. Everyone should be laughing.

Niall never laughs at Sharna’s jokes. She should know this by now.

“So Niall, how’s the novel coming?” She asks with a touch of poison in her voice.

“It’s great,” he starts, “I’ve already killed your character off.”

Sharna responds with a middle finger while she sucks up the last of her drink, the straw making a slurping sound as it struggles against the ice to get the last bit of liquid in the bottom of her empty glass.

Polly is asleep leaned up against Louis. Evan can hear her little snores and see the tiny pool of drool collecting on her boyfriend’s shirt. He gulps the last of his pint before patting her on the cheek lightly to wake her up. Polly grumbles and curls herself into him more, “up and at ‘em Little One. You’ve got class bright and early and I have to be up in four hours to make some macchiatos for overworked White Collars.”

She groans and finally obliges and manages to stand up long enough to jump on Louis’ back. They both wave as they head for the door. Evan chuckles as she watches them leave and turns to give Huck a little peck on the neck.

“I love you,” he whispers low enough for just the table to hear, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He’s drunk and kind of going cross eyed when he says it, but Evan knows it’s sincere, “I love you too,” she responds, and gives him a solid kiss on the lips.

The bile in Harry’s throat threatens round two.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Harry mentions, “you coming home tonight?” He motions to Evan.

Huck is glassy eyed and she knows he’ll pass out the second he hits the sack, take up half the mattress, and not move until morning. She was already feeling the effects of a hangover, and didn’t feel like adding no sleep to that menu.

“Yeah, I’ll get this one a cab home and meet you back at the apartment.”

She nudges her fiance and he slowly and sloppily slides his way out of the booth, hanging onto Evan for dear life. Or in this case, for his balance, and the two stumble to the sidewalk where she hails him a cab with the snap of her fingers. With the help of the taxi driver, and a hefty tip, she sees him off and starts the very short walk back to the apartment.

The air is chilly but not freezing. Her bare legs prick with tiny goosebumps from her ankles to her thighs and she can’t help but think about Harry and what happened before the gig. They have these moments, every now and again, seconds between moments where she thinks things may be different, where one of them would actually have the gaul to say how they really feel. But things like that don’t happen for people like Evan Bosco. So she settles for marrying the brain surgeon and hopes one day she’ll get over that missing piece in her chest.

Meanwhile, Harry stays inside with Jordan, who at this point, is totally asleep. He gently nurses two more shots and a Rum and Coke before ordering an Uber for his girlfriend. She’ll end up waking up at 6am puking her brains out and he didn’t feel like spending his morning holding back her hair. Harry wanted to go home and drink until he couldn’t remember his name and try and forget this day ever happened.

Apartment 11A is dark by the time Harry reaches the door. He looks around for signs of Evan, and sees her boots tipped over on the mat next to the entry and a half drank glass of water on the kitchen counter. He stumbles to the bar cart awkwardly shoved in a small corner of the kitchen and pulls out the fullest bottle of alcohol there is (which happens to be tequila) and brings it to bed with him.

Monday, March 26, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

It’s no surprise when Harry wakes up with a blinding headache. It’s already half past ten, which means he’s missed his first lesson at work. He makes up a half assed apology via text to his boss and lies about an aunt who passed away, then rolls back over for another hour or two until he’s woken up by Evan’s hurling noises.

Down the hall in their shared bathroom, Evan pukes out the contents of last night’s celebrations. She may have helped herself to a half bottle of wine when she’d gotten home, tempted by it sitting on the counter when she tried to responsibly chug a glass of water and an aspirin before going to bed. She hears Harry’s footsteps coming up the hallway when another bout of vomit spills out of her.

“Don’t come in here,” she moans, her voice broken and hoarse, “I’m disgusting.”

“I got you a glass of water!” He reasons.

“....Fine.”

Harry opens the door and walks slowly into the bathroom. Not for her sake, but for his, the slower he moves, the less dizzy his hangover makes him feel.

Evan snaches the glass from his hand and gulps it down, “thanks,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “why aren’t you at work?”

“Called out,” he replies, taking the glass back and a sip for himself, “why aren’t you at work?”

She glares, “called out.”

Harry lets out a breathy laugh, “c’mon, I’ll make you a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich on a bagel.”

Evan clutches her chest dramatically, “music to my ears!”

Despite that one time he set the stove on fire, Harry was actually a halfway decent cook (at least in his mind). The two ate their breakfasts at the table with two cups of coffee each, respectively. Neither wanted to bring up their talk last night. They’d both felt it, that second between a moment when they feel brave, as if they could break through some sort of invisible wall of bullshit that the both of them put up and finally break it down.

Harry, mostly for the sake of his hangover, didn’t want to bring it up for a variety of reasons. He was clearly drunk, as Evan already knew at that point, and hoped that would be enough to keep her quiet. Pride was another, for obvious reasons. But she’d pulled him in first and she cried. He looked to his shoulder for a moment and saw the black smudge of her mascara still on his shirt. It was all too much for him to think about at this hour with this bad of a headache. He wanted to finish his meal and crawl back into bed and sleep for about another week straight.

Did she feel it too? He thinks. Probably not because she’s still got the ring on her finger and he watches her play with it over and over again like she’s adjusting a fucking noose around her neck while they talk about today’s weather and how winter seems to be finally over. She couldn’t have felt it too, Evan’s a bold woman, she goes for things that she wants and if she had wanted Harry in that second then she would have wanted him in all the other seconds too. And he can’t wait for the day he can finally wake up in the morning and not have Evan Bosco on his mind.

He felt nothing, not a damn thing, she thinks as she takes the last bite of her breakfast sandwich. Also, she thinks that her ring is too loose because it slides too easily between her knuckle and the middle joint in her finger. Was it this heavy on her hand last night too? She felt the cold metal slip again as she balls up the napkin and tosses it on her plate. Evan’s lucky if she’s had at least two hours of sleep from the night. She knew she shouldn’t have mixed the red wine with liquor from the bar but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“So what are you up to today?” Harry asks.

“Well, I have an article due by the end of the day tomorrow, but I think I’ll check in with my dad and see if he wants to go out for dinner or something. I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks.”

As the Millennial Voice column expert in her father’s travel magazine, Evan was tasked with writing a monthly column on the hot spots in different cities that twenty-somethings would enjoy. But, due to the lack of budgeting, this usually just consisted of Google research rather than actual travel.

“I miss Papa Bosco. I haven’t heard any of his -ism’s lately,” Harry chuckles.

Evan Bosco Sr., who not only was fluent in Klingon, was also a walking, talking fortune cookie of life advise. Most of which he had taken out on his daughter’s friends, “oh I’m sure he’ll have plenty saved up for you next time you see him.”

“I love a man who can make me cry about my life choices,” Harry smirks.

Evan rolls her eyes, “or lack thereof. Any big plans for you today?” She asks.

He shrugs, “I’ll probably just loaf around and eat my weight in Chinese food, maybe jerk off in the shower - “

“You’re deplorable,” Evan snides, tossing her crumpled napkin at him.

Harry sips his coffee, feeling the chip on the edge of his monogrammed mug slice the soft flesh of his inner lip. He winces a bit, and licks off the blood.

Monday, March 26, 2018

987 Amsterdam Ave, Apartment 5B, New York, NY

Evan busies herself with unpacking the bags of groceries she’d collected for tonight’s dinner. Her father wasn’t home yet, and she was sure due to the large amounts of missed calls and texts that he’d have a lecture waiting for her. Almost twenty-five years old and Evan was still subjected to her father’s lectures. She knows he did it out of love, but sometimes, she just wished he’d let her fuck up without there having to be a lesson about it afterwards.

More often these days, Evan found herself missing their old apartment. It was modest, for the city. The walls were white and covered in exposed brick and held framed photos of maps and photography of all the places they’d explored together. It was a little cleaner, with Evan gone. No empty glasses left on the coffee table, just to the bottom left of the coaster, leaving yet another ring in the table’s surface. And no matter how many times Evan Sr. had to yell at his daughter about it, she never learned.

She missed the smell of the bakery across the street wafting through their windows in the morning, making the entire place smell like warm, buttery croissants. She missed their neighbors across the hall with their hyperactive Yorkie, Chico, who never seemed to stop yipping. Hell, Evan even missed the way her socks always slid against the hardwood floors and she’d bust her ass every so often when she would pivit just right. She felt as if she had a semi permanent bruise on her hip from falling over the years.

But most of all, she missed coming home to her father. Who, despite still having social anxiety at age forty eight and mumbled more than he actually spoke, was the most loving creature on the face of the planet. She checks the time, there’s still about another ten minutes before he would be walking in the front door, tossing his messenger bag on the floor, and reaching into the fridge for a beer. Just one, though. Always one.

Throughout their time travelling during her childhood, Evan found out that the greatest thing about it weren’t the sights, or the culture, or the tourist traps. It was the food. Between the two of them, they’d created what they dubbed “The Holy Grail” of recipes from their travels. Transcribed into a notebook with crunchy pages and stuck together with food splatter, shoved into the cabinet above the fridge, Evan knew she could make any meal in this book and immediately be back on her father’s good side.

Tonight it was Paella, the recipe was given to them by the Chef of a little hole in the wall place in València. It was her father’s absolute favorite meal and he swore he could never get it just right like Evan could.

“Surprise!” Evan declares as her father walks in the door, both confused but also relieved to see his daughter.

Evan Bosco Sr. drops his bag at the door and slides past his daughter to stalk into the kitchen for his one beer, “you weren’t at work today,” he mutters.

“Yes...well...it’s been an interesting twenty four hours. Plus I slept in and -”

It takes her father approximately three and a half seconds to recognize the symptoms and before she can finish her sentence, he interjects, “you’re hungover.”

Her father cracks a smile, probably the first one all day. Evan Sr. wouldn’t say that he hated his job, he just hated how draining it was, and sometimes it took smelling Paella cooking in the kitchen to bring you back down to Earth again.

“I am, but,” Evan holds up her left hand to show off the ring, “I’m also engaged.”

Evan Sr. presses his lips together and tilts his head to the left. He gulps once before processing the diamond on her finger, “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

Evan recognizes that look on her father’s face. It was the same one he had when she came home from school one time in seventh grade and told him it was now her life’s dream to drop out of middle school and join the Peace Corps. It was first a flash of confusion, followed up by mild disgust and then finished off with the sudden realization that he had to pretend to support his only daughter in a terrible decision.

“Are you?” She quizzes.

Evan Sr. nods, “sure am! Just been a long day.”

He takes a long swig of his beer and places it onto the counter with a shaky hand. The green bottle double clinks onto the counter.

“How’s Harry taking it?” He asked, stirring the simmering food in the pan.

Evan grabs the wooden spoon from his hand, “fine, why?”

Her father takes another choking gulp of his beer. He’s halfway done in just the two gulps he’s taken so far.

“Just curious,” he pips, putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “he is losing his best friend, after all.”

Evan Bosco Sr. of Columbus, Ohio wanted nothing more than for his only daughter to marry the man of her dreams. Evan Sr. knew that Jacob Huckabee was not going to be this man. He knew this for a while, and while he always wanted to support his daughter in her decisions, couldn’t help but feel slighted by the latest development in her relationship status. Slighted, not only because had Jacob not considered his fiancee's father’s opinion in the matter of their union, but also because he was the most absolutely boring person on the face the the planet. This, all coming from a man who studied the courtship rituals of insect mating in college.

For fun.

“What is the male obsession with thinking they’re going to lose someone who gets married?!” Evan groans, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” he pats her on the back, “it’ll just be an adjustment for him. I’m sure he’s going to have to find a new roommate.”

“Why don’t the two of you move in together since you’re like, so obsessed with each other,” Evan rolls her eyes.

Her father grins, “Harry will always have a place in this household.”

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “I swear if you had it your way I’d be marrying him,”

It felt a little too toxic to say and her father bit his tongue and fought back what he wanted to say. Recalling a time not all that long ago, when Harry was in a vulnerable state and confessed all that he felt for Evan Sr.’s daughter and he let himself reflect for a moment to a time in his life when he knew what it felt like to be absolutely helpless in love with someone.

Being a single father was not the life that Evan Bosco Sr. had planned for himself. He’d met his forever girl (or so he’d imagined) at age eighteen. They had dreamed of a life together traveling the world with each other. However, Elizabeth Highwater, or Just Lizzie, as Evan Sr. had called her through their nine year courtship, had never wanted children. So after a few years of marriage and a few spins around the globe Evan Sr. had suggested settling down somewhere and starting a family. It was six months after that conversation that Lizzie had found herself pregnant with a child she didn’t really want. She stuck around at first, playing doting wife and mother. But there had been a new man that offered her an out and a new life, the life a Highwater was expected to have. And all of this did not involve being the wife of Evan Bosco Sr.

So she left. One day on a chilly November night with nothing more than a packed suitcase and a note left behind to her husband and only daughter. Evan Sr. lied to his daughter about her mother’s whereabouts until age twenty-three, twenty years after she’d left. He had told her that her mother was really a mermaid, and that she had to go back to the ocean for a little while, but she’d eventually be back. It seemed stupid, but in a way it helped him heal as well.

But Elizabeth Highwater did not come back. At least not until her new husband had called Evan up a year or so ago to tell her that her mother had died. Evan remembers feeling a whole lot of nothing and then a whole lot of something seemingly all at once. She always harbored resentment for the woman like an anchor inside of her. She hated her mother for leaving her, and even more for breaking her father’s heart. She saw it it in the crinkles in the corners of his eyes and in the way the world seemed to always rest on his shoulders.

Evan had flown out to her parent’s hometown of Columbus, Ohio and met her step father for the first time and saw the house they’d lived in together and the evidence of her mother’s life without her child over the last twenty years. It was a good life, by the looks of it; big house but not too big, nice car, a boat trailered in the backyard. Evan’s time in Ohio had been summed up by something that Niall had dubbed the “Ohio Incident”.

But we’ll get to that later.

“As long as you’re happy, Pumpkin, so am I.”

Evan Sr. feigns a smile, pressing his lips together so tightly they turn white.

She takes a step closer to her father and places a single hand on his shoulder, “dad, you’re a terrible liar.”

He raises a brow and finishes off his beer before walking away into the living room.

Evan paces around the kitchen, occupying herself with setting their places at the kitchen island that took the place of a dining room table. She pours a glass of the wine she had brought over and sits on the counter while the last of their dinner cooks.

Why did he seem surprised? She thinks to herself. Aren’t boyfriend’s supposed to ask permission from the father of their girlfriend for their hand in marriage? Perhaps she’s thinking too much about it. Perhaps Huck had mentioned it in passing and her father had forgotten, or chosen to forget about it. Huck knew how close Evan was to her father, he wouldn’t overlook such a tradition.

Would he?

Monday, March 26, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

“Jordan for the last time I’m not going to your fucking parent’s house for the weekend! I have too much to do here. Just please drop it,” Harry throws himself onto the couch while his girlfriend stomps around the edges of the living room, circling him like prey.

They’d gotten into another argument, shocker, at first in the early afternoon when Jordan had called Harry complaining as to why he didn’t spend the night with her, nursing her through her vomit inducing hangover. By the time she’d laid it all into him it was half past five and he was starting to get hungry. Knowing Evan would be at her father’s, he invited her over to order some take away and could maybe make out with her. If for, at the very least, to get her to shut the fuck up.

“I just don’t understand you! One second you’re here and the next I feel like you’re on the other side of the world. I can’t keep doing this - “

“Stop, stop, stop.”

Harry leaps up and puts a palm over Jordan’s mouth, “for the love of God, stop complicating things. I just really don’t have the time to go upstate this weekend!”

He removes his hand slowly.

“It’s much more than that, Harry,” there’s a flicker in her wet eyes. She’s about to cry. Shit. “I can’t do this right now. I think we need to have some time apart, And I’m not talking our usual time apart. I’m thinking this may have to be permanent.”

She sits on the edge of the couch and Harry follows. She wipes just below her right eye with the back of her hand and sniffs, “I see all these happy couples and I always wonder why we can’t be them. I know you just think I’m a brat that nags at you all the time,” she’s crying more now and Harry starts to feel terribly, “but I do love you, and I do want a future with you. But if you can’t even spend a weekend with my family...for something I told you about months ago and suddenly you don’t have time? That’s not normal Harry.”

Harry stares at his hands, “I don’t want to hurt you, Jordy.”

“Yeah well, you’re a little late for that,” she replies, and the sting hits him square in the chest, “I just want to be happy. I want to celebrate each other. I want what Evan and Jake have! I want to get married one day and spend the rest of my life with someone who loves me just as much as I love them.”

That was all it took, and Harry didn’t feel so bad about her tears anymore. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t her fault. How was she supposed to her her boyfriend was in love with his best friend? He resented her statement. The wound was still fresh and the hangover in trying to forget the whole thing was still lingering.

“I don’t think you can be that for me right now, Harry.” Jordan says.

She stands and kisses the top of his head, “I’ll let myself out.”

Harry doesn’t reply to anything. It takes him ten minutes after the front door shuts to take a deep breath again. Usually when this happened, he knows Jordan would be back soon; in a couple days, a week, a month tops. But something about this time feels different.

It’s not long after Jordan leaves that Evan arrives back home. She smells like wine and Spanish food and her father’s cologne. She can sense the tension in his face the moment she lays eyes on him.

“Everything alright?” She questions.

“I feel like you’re asking me that a lot lately.”

“It’s because you’re incredibly transparent. I know you better than you know yourself, you know,” she grins.

Harry falls silent and looks to the floor, “Jordan dumped me again.”

Evan fails to act surprised, “please remind me how this is new news?” She says, hanging up her coat and kicking off her boots.

Harry huffs and stands, picking her boots up off the floor and places them on the shoe rack next to the door, “she said she wants to be with someone who loves her just as much as she loves them.”

There’s attitude in his voice and Evan can sense it, “yeah, still failing to see the big shocker here, Harriet. What do you expect from the poor girl? You guys break up like every other week for some stupid shit and then get back together without ever working anything out. Of course she’s going to realize you don’t love her back.”

Harry’s breath catches for a moment, “I do love her.”

Evan rolls her eyes.

“Okay maybe not like that, in that way,” Harry defends, “but I do have love for her…I’m just not in love with her.”

“Ding ding we have a winner! Only took you how long to figure it out?”

Harry lets out a breathy laugh and swings an arm around Evan, “yeah, yeah. So how did Papa Bosco take your big engagement news?”

She pauses before answering, “strangely. I don’t know. It’s like he wanted to say something but didn’t. But not something like ‘oh I think this is a terrible idea’ but like he, I don’t know, like he’s waiting for me to figure something out.”

Oh if she only knew.

HELLOOOOOO!!!! Thank you again everyone for the kind words of encouragement and how you’re feeling about this fic! Please let me know! Just a note for the next update, it will come a day late as the 5th I’m throwing a party for my mom’s 60th birthday and I won’t be able to post, so the next chapter will arrive on May 6th.

For any questions/comments/concerns, please do not hesitate to take advantage of my ask!

#fic: oifl #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #1dff

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j-esbian · 7 years

Text

Lock and Key

I’m so excited to be able to share my piece for the @meowraculouschatnoirzine!!! everyone should go check it out; there’s a lot of wonderful people that put in a lot of great work and I feel so honored to have been able to participate!!

alright without any further ado and before i start crying here’s the fic

on ao3

Words: 2388

Adrien's 15th birthday had been pretty much a completely unmitigated disaster. Still, over the past year, things had been looking up, and maybe he was naïve enough to believe his 16th would be better.

It started off great, at least. He woke up to a warm, quiet room, full of delicious smells, and found that someone had delivered breakfast into his room while he was sleeping. There was a fantastic spread laid out on his coffee table; fruits and pastries and juices and coffee and his favorite cheese soufflé--far too much for him to eat all on his own. Plagg was happy to help.

As he pushed away the last of his breakfast, he stretched and reflected on the past year. For all outward appearances, nothing had really changed. His dad still enforced a strict curfew, Nino was only allowed by on rare occasions, his mother was still gone, and he was no closer to confessing his feelings to Ladybug. He was still weighed down with Chinese and fencing and photo shoots and school and superhero duties--but despite all that, he felt like everything had changed. As Chat Noir, he'd had a glorious chance to taste freedom and try it on for himself, and he'd grown into his role as the city's favorite cavalier. He'd made more friends than he'd ever had before, been to school, seen and done things he never would have imagined beyond the walls of his bedroom and the anime on his tv. He'd grown into himself.

Adrien had been sure to secure his father's approval ahead of time, but he had the whole day to himself and permission to invite over as many guests as he wanted. It was the one day of the year that he got these freedoms, and he planned to make the most of it. As he dressed and brushed his teeth, he texted his friends. Nino was the obvious first, then Chloé, as she was his oldest friend and, moreover, likely to have her phone in her hand at all times. Maybe Alya was free, too; when she and Chloé could stop fighting, they all got along great. And Marinette, too; she was slowly inching out of her shell, and Adrien sometimes saw glimpses of confidence and wit that made him think of Ladybug and smile; with echoes of his own best friend in her, he loved hanging out. And Kim, who was the absolute life of any party, and Rose, who brought joy wherever she went.

But when Adrien stretched out on his couch, full and clean and fully dressed, his phone was silent. Not a single person had texted him back.

He tried to not let it get to him. It was still early, after all. Maybe they weren't awake yet.

Adrien tapped his fingers restlessly on the arm of the couch. He wanted to go somewhere, do something, hang out with his friends. It was his birthday ; he wasn’t going to spend the day sitting around in his room, playing video games or watching television or wasting hours on the Internet. Not alone. Not today. Not again.

He got up after a few more moments’ consideration. Maybe he could talk someone into letting him use the car. Adrien could imagine himself zipping around the city, showing up unannounced to rope them into a surprise adventure. Come on, dude! It’s my birthday. Get dressed, you’re coming with me.

Alright, so the car wasn’t that big. He’d be able to pick up maybe two people. Still, he let himself have that fantasy, and he slipped his shoes on.

“Come on, Plagg,” Adrien called, holding his jacket open for Plagg to slide in and hide. He approached the door with a spring in his step, and turned the handle.

Locked.

He pulled on the handle again. It was definitely locked; he wasn’t mistaken. What the…? He frowned and crossed over to the other door, next to the bathroom, but that was locked, too.

He rapped on the door, feeling a little foolish for knocking on the wrong side. But still there was no response. No one was in the hallway. He tried again, pounding on the door until his knuckles were sore. “Father?” he called. “Nathalie?”

Adrien felt distinctly uncomfortable, and most of all, betrayed , as he sank to his knees and sat down. His father wouldn’t lie to him. He had woken up, excited for the day, but now it felt like a trick, to keep him distracted from whatever was really happening.

“What’s going on, Plagg?” he asked, as the kwami poked his head out.

Plagg frowned, whiskers twitching in irritation. “I dunno, kid. But, you know, there’s more than one way out of here.”

“Yeah,” Adrien replied sourly. “There’s two doors.”

“Okay, smart mouth, I meant the window.”

“Oh. You’re right. Plagg, transform me!”

As a whole, Parisians hadn't gotten used to running into Ladybug or Chat Noir on the street; it was still a rare and exciting occasion. But the sight of one of them no longer incited the mass panic that it had before. After a while, they got used to the fact that, sometimes, a hero would show up without danger on their heels. They looked to be teenagers, after all, and sometimes they just liked to hang out, take a walk, visit some fans, get a free lunch.

Today seemed to be one of those days, Nino noticed, seeing Chat Noir down the street. He was crouched down, talking to a pair of little kids, one of whom was conversing animatedly back, and the other of whom was hiding behind their parent.

Nino was only a block away from Alya's house; he was on his way there, in fact, to pick up some supplies, but seeing Chat Noir so close gave him another reason to light a fire under his feet.

Chat looked up as he felt someone pass by him, and saw a familiar figure--or rather, his back, which was getting farther and farther away. A string of sadness wrapped around his heart, and he could feel it pulling as Nino drew farther away, but he resisted the urge to go off and sulk. He patted the kids on their heads and, with a final, jaunty salute, raced after Nino.

He tried to play it off on a whim, rushing past his best friend with little more than a friendly and completely innocuous “Hello!”

Nino called after him.

“Hey! Chat Noir!”

Chat stopped, arranging his face into something mildly cautious and quizzical, and turned around. He hung back as Nino caught up to him.

“I’m not-- I mean, you don’t have to be anywhere?” Nino asked upon glimpsing his hero’s face. Chat realized that despite his best efforts, he was grimacing, and he pushed it away with a polite smile.

“No,” he said. “What’s up, man?”

“I was just wondering what you were doing out,” Nino replied. “And, I know this is a huge favor, but I’ve got a friend who would love to hear from you. She’s close by. Would you mind…?”

Chat shrugged, and Nino took that as answer enough, heading off once more and beckoning for him to follow. He reflected sourly that Nino seemed to be full of boundless, excited energy. Alya must have been really excited for the prospect of an interview.

“So, what does bring you out today?” Nino asked casually. “Special occasion? Stakeout? You can tell me, I swear. I’m great at keeping secrets.”

Chat thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you could call it a special occasion. It’s my birthday. I just thought I’d… get out, see how everyone’s doing, you know?”

“Dude, no way!” Nino looked astounded. “Happy birthday, Chat Noir! Man, Alya will be so excited to hear that.”

“Hear what?” Alya popped out from nowhere and fell into step with the boys. She lifted her phone. “Chat Noir! Mind if I get a picture for the blog?”

He shrugged, and grinned, and she snapped a selfie. As she uploaded it, she asked, “What am I excited for?”

“It’s his birthday today,” Nino said, his own wide grin egging Alya’s on.

“You’re kidding!” Alya cried. “It’s his best friend’s birthday, too!”

Nino bobbed his head. “Yeah! Man, he’s such a huge fan of Ladybug, and you, too! Are you--I mean, I’m sure you’re busy today, doing stuff and celebrating, but bro, listen, we’re throwing him a party later, and it would be insane if you could stop by.”

Chat scratched the back of his neck. Wait, they had to be talking about him--Adrien--right? So, what about…

“Uh,” he began. “I don’t know if I’m doing anything later. Probably. I mean, my friends might want to hang out, or… something.”

Alya waved her hand. “No sweat! We’re actually on our way over now, if you want to stick with us while we pick up some people and stuff. And we’re probably going to be at it all afternoon. Just, stop by if you get a free moment.”

Chat swallowed hard, and all he could get out was a nod.

Nino started with a sudden idea, and fished for his phone. “Dude, would you mind maybe just recording a short video real quick? For my bud? I don’t mean to bother you, really, but it would totally make his day.”

His two friends’ eagerness just seemed to keep magnifying his own awkwardness and embarrassment. How could he disappoint them, though, when they were apparently willing to do so much for him?

Even if they had locked him in his room and ignored him all morning. They must have had good intentions, he reasoned.

Chat nodded quickly, clearing his throat as Nino readied his camera. When Nino pointed at him, he began.

“Hey, Adrien, I, uh, heard it was your birthday today, so congrats, man!” He paused for a moment to cough and recollect his thoughts. Recording a secret message for himself was one of the strangest things he’d ever done. “Uh, your friends seem really excited about what they’ve got planned, so I hope you have a good day, and, um, yeah! Ladybug sends her love, too. Okay, bye!”

He waved manically, until he saw Nino giving him a thumbs-up. Nino put his phone back into his pocket and surged forward to grab Chat in a hug. “Dude, thanks so much!”

Chat hugged him back, remembering to keep some professional restraint, but not wanting to. After all, this was his best friend, who was nearly in tears from getting a thirty-second video of him stammering at himself.

Wow. He loved his friends. And he could feel that they loved him, too.

The past year had definitely changed him for the better.

He pulled back before he could follow that train of thought any farther, and before he started making things weird.

“I’ve got to be somewhere,” he said, already skipping backwards. “You guys are awesome! See you!”

Alya waved after him, while Nino just shot some finger-guns that he probably thought made him look cool. And, if Chat was honest, it did.

He slowed down after a few blocks and darted into the first hiding place he could find to transform back. As he meandered back home, with Plagg warm against his chest, he felt a deeper warmth, too, like a fire in his stomach. His friends were planning him a surprise party. They had gone a step beyond what he’d barely hoped for; Adrien’s plans had included little more than inviting a few people over to chill out and play some video games. But here was proof, here was fact , that they wanted to do something for him, too. Even without his asking. They wanted to spend this important day with him, and to make sure that he was happy.

He nearly forgot everything else as he approached the gate in front of his house and buzzed for Nathalie to let him in.

“A-Adrien?” Her voice sounded strange, perhaps from shock, or the tinny intercom system. “What are you doing… out?”

“Just taking a walk,” he said cheerfully, an innocent smile on his face, and she could do little else but let him in.

“Yes, but--” Nathalie met Adrien just inside the door, barely affording him a glimpse of the foyer before hustling him past and up to his room. She jiggled the doorknob, but of course it was still locked. “Your father received strict instructions not to let you out of your room until this afternoon. How did you get out?”

She unlocked the door and hastily ushered Adrien inside. He smirked at her dumbfounded expression as she looked back at him through the doorway. “I have my ways,” he said, knowing such a vague and mysterious answer would drive her up the wall.

She shook her head. “Stay here until you're called.” Adrien gave her a mock salute, and she relaxed a centimeter. “And, Adrien? Happy birthday.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Nathalie.”

He gently closed the door and crossed over to the couch, hurtling over the back and landing with a loud and comfortable thump . Plagg crawled out of his jacket to lie more securely on his chest, and Adrien scratched between his ears. He propped his head up on his other arm to look down at his kwami, who already looked ready to doze off.

“Hey, Plagg? Does this count as cheating?” Adrien asked suddenly. “I mean, do you think they'll be upset that I know? It ruined the surprise.”

Plagg blinked slowly, and then sighed in exasperation. “They don't even know that you know. All you need to do is act surprised when they come get you. Just appreciate that they're doing something nice for you, even if you did kind of mess up one end of it. They don’t need to know. And now you know that they didn’t forget you, so it all works out.”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He moved his other hand to lay flat on his chest, and Plagg laid his head on it, closing his eyes in contentment. “I love you.”

Plagg opened his eyes for a split second and caught Adrien's gaze. He closed his eyes again, and his little mouth twitched into a fanged smile. “Love you, too, kid. Happy birthday.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #chickenscratch #this is Cheesy but that's chat's thing so it's okay we all need some cheese to keep going plagg's onto something there

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