#i fucking love the pose i love that he’s doing his signature peace sign i love how you drew the cloth folds i love all the little details
Note
Great to see you again NWB!!!!
Here's a doodle I made as a welcome back present!!!
A welcome back present, that’s so nice! Thank you lots!!!
#i’ve been so normal about this image ever since you sent it to me. I lied i kept just staring at it#UWAUGHHHH HUWAHHHHHH BURSTS INTO TEARS ON THE SPOT UWAAAEEUUEEEUE UEUEE#FAUX ART???? tumblr user fauxbia art? from tumblr? The Fauxbia!!? for me ?!?!?!?? my little guy??#FOR ME????? !??!?!?!?!?!?! UEUEEEE UEEUE#my day was already good but this just made it ten billion times better oh my god#i literally love this so much it’s so fucking amazing (through tears) I LOVE YOUR ART SO MUCH UEEE UEUEEHGG#i fucking love the pose i love that he’s doing his signature peace sign i love how you drew the cloth folds i love all the little details#i’m obsessed with the glow and the lighting you have such a pretty style of shading Im Literally Exploding#me?? for me??? this? for me this are you sure? for me#flops on the ground pathetically like a fish out of land#nobody look at me i need to go stare at this some more#is for me tag#no way back is here
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the brightest light is you
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681833
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, tooth rotting fluff
A/N: Hi friends!! This fic is a secret santa gift for my love @lonely-rabbit (you should totally follow her) and our lovely fambly. The prompts were “First Christmas,” and “Proposals.” I hope you like it! <3
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December 10th
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Katsuki saw the sign to the pet store before Izuku did, and immediately knew he was in trouble. Why is there a pet store inside a fucking strip mall?
“Kacchan, look!” Izuku pointed at a baby, chocolate colored bunny, sleeping in an enclosure on display in the front window.
“Absolutely not.”
“But look how cute she is!” Izuku pouted.
“Deku, we already have a cat.”
“Yeah, so she’d have a friend!”
“No, she’d get fucking eaten.”
“Chip would never, she’s too polite.”
“She’s a fucking demon!” Katsuki snapped.
“Pleeeease, Kacchan? She needs a home, and it’s just in time for Christmas,” Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s middle, staring up at him.
Katsuki averted his gaze and gritted his teeth, knowing he couldn't resist Izuku's pleading eyes.
“No. Don’t give me that fucking look.”
To Katsuki’s surprise, Izuku just laughed and released his hold on him.
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” Izuku sighed dramatically, “let’s go before I get too attached. I’m hungry, anyway.”
Katsuki watched as he walked away, considering for a moment.
“God fucking dammit,” Katsuki muttered, pulling out his phone to snap a picture before Izuku noticed.
----------------------------------
December 18th
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“Look at these, Kacchan!” Katsuki looked up from an outrageously priced scarf to see Izuku holding the most hideous sweaters he had ever seen. They were bright red, each decorated with a matching design that, when held together, formed a Christmas tree that was adorned with real tinsel, glitter, and colored pom-pom ornaments.
“Fuck no,” Katsuki spat, and Izuku burst into laughter.
“Why not? They’re perfect,”
“No way in hell you’re getting me to wear that shit,” Katsuki snapped.
“I can think of a few ways,” Izuku winked. Katsuki sputtered, pink dusting his cheeks.
“C’mon, Kacchan, it’s Christmas! We have to get ugly sweaters.”
It was their first Christmas together since buying their new house, and Izuku had insisted on decorating accordingly. Apparently that also included embarrassing the hell out of Katsuki.
“I don’t have to do shit.”
“Please?” Izuku pouted his lip.
Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.
“Fine,” he growled, while Izuku cheered and tossed the sweaters into the shopping cart.
“Oh, we could get matching Santa h-”
“Don’t even fucking think about it, Deku,” Katsuki pushed the cart forward, swiftly exiting the clothing section of the store as Izuku giggled behind him.
----------------------------------
It had been at least 30 minutes since Katsuki had seen Izuku. Where the fuck had he gone? This shop was too small to get lost in. He had checked all the aisles twice, but Izuku was nowhere to be found.
“Goddammit, every time,” Katsuki muttered, pulling out his phone to call again.
“Oh, Kacchan! There you are!” Katsuki jumped as a mop of green curls popped up from behind a giant red bin. How had he missed that?
“Jesus, Deku! You scared the shit out of me. How long have you fucking been there?,” Katsuki grumbled.
“Way too long. I’m trying to pick out lights, come help me,”
Katsuki sighed as he approached and took in the sight before him.
Izuku was muttering incomprehensibly to himself as he knelt amongst a messy pile of packages, each containing string lights of different sizes, shapes and colors.
“Those white ones in the big box,” Katsuki pointed, interrupting Izuku’s train of thought, “they’ll match the walls and the trim on the house."
Izuku looked up at Katsuki and beamed.
“You’re so smart.”
“Damn right,” Katsuki grinned, “and we’re getting a shit ton. We’re gonna have the best fucking house in the neighborhood," he pulled five boxes of lights from the bin, tossing them into the cart.
“Okay, Kacchan,” Izuku laughed as he cleaned up his mess.
----------------------------------
Their shopping cart was practically overflowing with decorations now, but Izuku didn’t seem to notice, excitedly pulling Katsuki all over the store.
“We already have three of these, nerd,” Katsuki watched as Izuku pondered over a vast selection of snowglobes.
“Yes, but not little ones! We could put these all over the house,” Izuku turned to face Katsuki, holding up a miniature globe with Dynamight’s signature gauntlets inside. Katsuki sighed and draped an arm around Izuku’s shoulder, knowing his mind was already made up.
“Could give this one to your mom,” Katsuki pointed to one that was large, green and orange, with “Wonder Duo” engraved on the front. Inside were little statues of Dynamight and Deku, posed dramatically in battle.
“She likes-,” Katsuki paused, abruptly letting go of Izuku and all but sprinting away, disappearing behind a shelving unit.
“Kacchan what’s-,” Izuku called, startled. He gasped when Katsuki returned with a box three times his size.
It was a giant, twelve foot tall statue of a Yeti wielding a staff. Katsuki poked his head around the side, grinning wickedly in delight.
“Kacchan, where would we even put that?” Izuku stared in disbelief.
“We’ll make room,” Katsuki grunted.
“Make room where?”
“We can put it next to the fireplace.”
“Kacchan, that’s where the stairs are.”
“Fuck the stairs.”
“That thing is taller than our ceiling,” Izuku stifled a laugh as Katsuki struggled to balance the weight of the box.
“Then we’ll put it outside,” Katsuki huffed in frustration.
“I don’t think our neighbors would like that, it’s scary.”
“Fuck the neighbors, this is badass.”
Izuku was laughing in earnest now, tears coming into his eyes.
“I can’t get a bunny, but you can get a giant monster?”
“This is way cooler than a fucking bunny.”
“I’m blaming you if we get in trouble with the landlord.”
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December 20th
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“That’s not food, Chip!” Izuku cried. “Let go!”
Katsuki snickered, slicing vegetables to add to a pot of bubbling curry while Izuku struggled to protect the tree from their cat.
“Shit!”
A resounding thud came from the living room, and Katsuki sighed as he dumped the ingredients into the pot.
“I need help here!” Izuku called desperately as Katsuki entered the room.
Izuku was on the floor, becoming increasingly tangled in ropes of tinsel as Chip rolled in it like she’d struck gold.
“I give up Kacchan, she won’t let- stop laughing! Can you grab her please? She keeps nibbling me” Izuku scowled.
Struggling not to choke on laughter, Katsuki whistled, quickly catching Chip’s attention.
“C’mere, you little shit, I’ve got something that tastes better than Deku,” Katsuki kneeled, dangling a piece of chicken in front of him. The tabby sprinted to him and happily devoured her prize.
“Dumb fucking cat,” he muttered under his breath.
“She likes you more than me,” Izuku chuckled, untangling himself from his tinsel prison to finish wrapping it around the tree.
“Course she does. She only likes the best,” Katsuki grinned, scratching Chip's chin as she purred and rubbed against his knee.
“There,” Izuku stood back to admire his handiwork, “I think it just needs the star now.”
“Can you even reach, shortstack?” Katsuki teased, watching Izuku struggle on his tiptoes.
“Of-” Izuku grunted,” of course I can.”
Wordlessly, Katsuki wrapped his arms around Izuku’s middle, lifting him up with ease to place the silver star atop the tree.
“It looks good, right?” Izuku grinned as Katsuki lowered him back down, still hugging him from behind.
“Yeah. Nice work, nerd,”
“Thanks, Kacchan.”
“Hm.”
“Christmas is gonna be great,” Izuku whispered.
“Be more fun if we just stayed home,” Katsuki grumbled into Izuku’s neck.
“That could be fun,” Izuku laughed, turning in Katsuki’s arm to hug him properly, “but it’ll be good to see our parents. It’s been over a month.”
“Tch. I guess,”
“Thanks for making dinner, Kacchan,” Izuku squeezed him tight and tilted his head up for a kiss.
“It’s gonna fucking burn if you don’t let go of me,” Katsuki murmured against his lips, but kissed him back.
“Hmm. That’s fine,”
Katsuki snorted.
“Hey, I think the demon spawn is ready for round two,” he nodded at the sneaky cat, who was quietly approaching the tree again.
“Dammit,” Izuku whipped around, tearing out of Katsuki’s arms, “Chip, stay out of there!”
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December 25th
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Katsuki woke to soft lips on his forehead
“Good morning, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered in his ear.
“ ‘S too fuckin early, Deku,” Katsuki groaned, eyes still closed.
“It’s almost 10.”
“I said what I said.”
Izuku yelped in surprise as Katsuki grabbed his waist and unceremoniously tugged him down onto the bed.
“Kacchan, it’s Christmas,” Izuku laughed, snuggling into his side, despite himself, “we’re supposed to be at your parents house in three hours.”
“Mmm, fuck’m,” Katsuki grumbled.
“I have coffee brewing,”
Katsuki’s ears perked up, the scent suddenly filling his nose. Sighing, he stretched his free arm above his head and cracked his eyes open to see Izuku smiling at him, wearing that atrocious sweater he’d picked out. Katsuki tucked a stray curl behind his ear.
Too cute for his own damn good.
“Come on, Kacchan, I made breakfast too,” Izuku pulled Katsuki by the arm as he sat up.
“You made breakfast?” Katsuki was dubious as he slid his glasses up his nose.
“Yep. My specialty,”
“Canned cinnamon rolls?”
“Canned cinnamon rolls.”
“....fuck yeah.”
Katsuki had long since accepted his role as the chef in their relationship, because Izuku couldn’t cook to save his fucking life, but canned pastries were a guilty pleasure he knew he’d never shake.
----------------------------------
It was a peaceful morning. The sun peeked through the curtains, bathing the room in warm, golden hues as they sat by the fire, Chip asleep on the couch between them.
“Hey, nerd, go open your present,” Katsuki nudged Izuku, who had begun to doze on his shoulder.
“Hm?” Izuku yawned, stretching his arms, “oh, okay!"
“It’s that red one,” Katsuki pointed to the largest package under the tree. Izuku eyed him curiously before crawling to open the gift, excitedly ripping through the paper and tape to reveal...
Another box, wrapped in different paper.
Izuku raised both eyebrows at him in confusion and Katsuki grinned.
“What, you don’t like it?” he mocked offense, as Izuku narrowed his eyes, “I’m just fucking with you. Keep going.”
Katsuki chuckled and quietly slipped out of the room while Izuku’s attention was occupied.
“Kacchan, this is so unnecessary,” Izuku groaned, as he pulled out yet a third box.
“Maybe I’ll just take it back, then,” Katsuki declared loudly as he re-entered the room, startling an oblivious Izuku.
“Kacchan, when did-” Izuku gasped. Katsuki was leaning against the wall with a smirk, holding a familiar small, chocolate brown bunny in his arms.
“I had Shitty Hair get her after we left the mall,”
“She’s been here for two weeks?!” Izuku cried in disbelief.
“You think I took care of her on my own? Fuck no,” Katsuki grumbled, meeting Izuku halfway and carefully passing him the rabbit, “had your mom keep her. Picked her up last night while you were asleep.”
“I love her,” Izuku smiled, burying his face in Katsuki's chest, “thank you, Kacchan."
Katsuki sighed, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his hair.
“I just knew you’d never shut the fuck up about it."
“Did you introduce her to Chip yet?”
“Yeah. She couldn’t fucking care less.”
Izuku laughed, kissing the bunny's soft head.
“I told you they’d be friends,”
“Yeah. Friends," Katsuki rolled his eyes, "go sit, there's one more,"
Izuku smirked as he watched Katsuki stumble over the ruins of his prank to retrieve the gift.
“There’d better not be another box in there, Kacchan,” Izuku warned, warily taking the package.
“Just open it, dumbass,” Katsuki barked a laugh and joined him on the couch.
Izuku pulled the lid off the long box and stared. Inside was a tall, holographic photo frame filled with drawings Izuku and Katsuki made as children. When tilted to the side, the images changed to reveal photographs of the pair as Pro Heroes.
“Kacchan, you- you kept these?”
Katsuki shrugged.
“They were too badass to throw away,”
“Kacchan-” tears welled up in Izuku’s eyes again, “it’s perfect. You big softie.”
“Tch. I’m not the one crying,” Katsuki wiped the tears as they rolled down his cheeks.
Izuku laughed again.
“But you know I’m right. My turn now?”
Izuku didn't wait for his response, clambering over the sea of boxes for the present without putting his furry new friend down.
“Here!”
It was surprisingly heavy, and topped with a comically large bow.
“Shit, Deku, you put bricks in here?”
“Just open it, Kacchan,” Izuku watched him with excitement in his eyes.
Katsuki ripped the package open to reveal a thick, leather bound scrapbook, with Dynamight’s signature X on the front. The inside cover read, in handwriting Katsuki immediately recognized as Izuku’s,“The Legacy of Dynamight.”
His eyes widened as he flipped through the book of memories.
There were journal articles of him in action. Newspaper headings; “Pro Hero Dynamight makes his big debut!” and “Pro hero Dynamight saves Musutafu Children’s Hospital!
Then came the letters glued to the parchment paper, comprising the majority of the book. Katsuki’s mouth fell open as he read words, handwritten, that he’d never seen before.
There were letters from citizens that had watched him take down terrifying enemies, praising him for his good deeds. Letters from people he’d saved, grateful for the chance to see their families again.
Letters from sick children he’d visited in the hospital telling him how awesome he was, several thanking him for giving them the encouragement to keep fighting.
And finally, there were multiple pages filled with artwork. Most were children’s doodles of Dynamight in action and Dynamight saving the day, but there were also several beautifully drawn and painted portraits.
The remaining pages were blank, waiting to be filled.
Izuku had written on the inside back cover:
This is a book of memories, of growth, of victory, and salvation.
If you are so fortunate to see this, know you are reading a testament to the strongest person this world has ever known.
The fiercest hero and most loyal partner, who always wins and always saves.
The legacy of Katsuki Bakugou, Pro Hero Dynamight.
At the bottom, Izuku had doodled several explosions and grenades, and Katsuki grinned.
“I sent a letter to the World Hero Association Journals, asking people to send in their thoughts about Pro Hero Dynamight. There were so many! Those kids were full of stories. They think you’re really cool. And we can fill the rest of it with new memories, too," Izuku said softly, smiling at him.
Katsuki tried to speak, but nothing came out. He was speechless as he stared at Izuku.
“I just want you to know how proud of you I am. How proud everyone is. You’re amazing, Kacchan," Izuku was looking at him with those big, knowing eyes, and picked up an envelope Katsuki hadn't noticed at the bottom of the box.
“Open the last one.”
It was a page full of more doodles from when they were kids, and potential hero names they’d created. At the bottom read “Dynamight” in uneven, capital letters.
“We had the same idea,” Izuku laughed.
“Deku, I-” Katsuki stuttered, still unable to find the right words.
“I know.”
Did he know? Could he possibly know how much this fucking meant? How much he meant?
They both startled as Chip dove into the pile of wrapping paper on the ground, ripping it to shreds.
“Oh-wait, come back!” Izuku reached for his bunny as she leapt from his lap to explore the wreckage, but Katsuki grabbed his chin and pulled him back.
“I love you,” Katsuki said firmly, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.
It felt like hours, but Katsuki knew it had only been minutes when Izuku pulled back.
“Kacchan,” he was breathless as Katsuki’s lips trailed down his chin, “I don’t know where she went.”
“She’s fine,”
“But-”
“She’s fine.” Katsuki growled, silencing Izuku’s burst of laughter with another kiss.
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“It’s fuckin’ cold, Deku, let’s just take the car,” Katsuki complained, rubbing his hands together to warm them.
“It’s not that cold, Kacchan. And look how pretty it is!” Izuku insisted.
Thin flecks of snow fell from the sky, disappearing into the fluff that already coated the neighborhood. Water dripped slowly from the tree branches as the snow began to melt in the sunlight. The air smelled of evergreen, crisp and cold enough that they could see their own breath.
“Besides, it’s not that far of a walk. Come on, we’re already running late,” Izuku hauled a bag of gifts over one arm, reaching for Katsuki’s hand with the other.
“Our house is the most badass,” Katsuki grinned, looking up at his prized statue. The giant took up half of their front yard, it's long shadow peering over their roof.
“Kacchan, that thing is an eyesore,” Izuku grimaced.
“Shut up. It’s cool as fuck as you know it."
Izuku laughed and shook his head.
“Do you think they’ll be alright without us?” Izuku worried as they walked, thinking of the animals they’d left at home.
“Who knows. Maybe the demon spawn will have eaten that fluff ball by the time we get home,” Katsuki teased.
“Kacchan! That’s not reassuring,”
“You asked,” Katsuki smirked, interlacing his fingers with Izuku’s, “they’ll be fine. They’re fucking animals. And she’s in her pen.”
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The walk was short, but still longer than Katsuki cared for in the cold.
“Oh, mom’s already here!” Izuku pointed to the small, blue car parked in front of the Bakugou household.
The house was huge, decked top to bottom in red and green lights that matched the trees in the yard.
“Hope the old hag hasn’t eaten her alive yet,” Katsuki mused.
“Kacchan, that’s not very nice,” Izuku playful shoved him, “we’d better not keep them waiting,”
They were greeted at the door by Inko Midoriya’s warm, smiling face.
“Merry Christmas boys!” She squealed, pulling them both in for a tight hug.
“Merry Christmas, mom,” Izuku grinned, wrapping his arms around her. Katsuki hummed, loosely returning the embrace.
It was pleasantly warm inside, and smelled of cinnamon and vanilla.
“Oh, those are so cute!” Inko exclaimed as they discarded their coats, pointing to the abhorrent sweaters Izuku had insisted they wear, much to Katsuki’s chagrin.
Katsuki groaned as Inko poked at the ridiculous pom poms on his chest.
Deku’s lucky he’s so fucking cute.
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Katsuki had just finished bickering with Mitsuki when he overheard Izuku and Inko talking in the next room. He paused, leaning against the wall to listen unnoticed.
“I can’t believe you kept Nibbles a secret!”
Nibbles? Where the fuck did that name come from?
“It wasn’t easy, I was so excited! But I was more than happy to help. She’s very well behaved,”
“She is,” Izuku laughed, “thank you for taking care of her, mom.”
“Of course, dear. Katsuki came to check on us almost every day.”
Katsuki flushed as the pair laughed.
“What did he think of the scrapbook?” Inko asked excitedly.
“He liked it, I think. He was quiet, which is Kacchan for “thank you."
Inko was laughing again.
“I think it was a great idea, honey, it's very thoughtful."
“I’m just...really proud of him, y’know? He’s come so far. I don’t think words are enough,” Izuku was sniffling now, “gah, I'm sorry mom, I don’t mean to be so mushy.”
“Don’t apologize. You get it from me,” Inko chuckled, the emotion clear in her voice too, “did you like your other gift?”
“I love it, it’s so perfect. Did you know about that, too?”
“He asked me if I thought you’d like it. I said yes, of course,” Inko paused, “he really loves you, honey.”
“I know. “
Katsuki flushed deeper, leaning quietly against the wall.
Did he know?
----------------------------------
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Inko cried in appreciation for the snowglobe Katsuki had picked out, and locket they’d customized with a photo of the three of them. Mitsuki and Masaru enjoyed the cheesy as fuck digital photo frame Izuku had insisted on, with less teasing from Mitsuki than Katsuki had expected.
Everyone was delighted to see All Might when he stopped by to visit in the afternoon, but Katsuki barely even noticed him. In the crowded room, all he saw was Izuku.
Izuku, who had saved him so many times, in more than one sense of the word. Izuku, who had rooted for him his whole life, the only person who had never stopped truly believing in him, who had reminded him of his true purpose.
Izuku, who had never expected more of him than he had to give, but encouraged him endlessly to reach new heights.
Izuku, who was currently asleep in his lap, wrapped in his new blanket hoodie.
Izuku.
“Can i sit with you, dear?”
Katsuki was interrupted from his reverie by Inko’s soft voice.
“Sure,” he murmured, scooting over as best he could without waking the sleeping lump.
“Thank you for the gifts, they were very thoughtful.”
“Was Deku’s idea,” Katsuki lied. Inko laughed.
“Sure."
They sat together in a calming silence for a while, watching the flames crackle in the fireplace.
Katsuki was frequently comforted by Inko’s presence. She was a beacon of light, always warm and wise. He thought she was about to speak, but she was interrupted by Izuku’s sudden snores.
“He’s loud even in his fucking sleep,” Katsuki rolled his eyes.
Inko chuckled, running a hand through her son’s hair.
“It adds to his natural charm,”
“Yeah, it’s real charming waking up to the sound of a fog horn in the middle of the night,” Katsuki grumbled, earning another musical laugh.
“You know, I don’t think I ever congratulated you on your new home,” Inko hummed.
“ S’just a house."
“Of course it is,” Inko smiled knowingly and patted his arm, “I’m very proud of you both.”
Katsuki was silent for a moment, before squeezing her hand.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
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It was dark when they finally bid their farewells, and considerably colder outside.
“Drive safe, mom!” Izuku waved as Katsuki helped her into her car and shut the door.
“Let’s cut through the plaza on the way home, Kacchan, I want to see the lights,"
“That’s ten fucking minutes out of the way, Deku,” Katsuki growled.
“It’s our last chance to see before it gets taken down! It’ll be fun,” Izuku pleaded, hugging Katsuki’s arm.
“Tch. You’d better fucking walk fast."
Izuku grinned in victory as they left.
“Today was a nice day. I didn’t expect All Might to actually come by, since he’s so busy. It was good to see him,” Izuku thought aloud.
“Woulda been pissed if he didn’t,” Katsuki grumbled.
“Did you invite him, too?” Izuku looked at him in surprise as he shrugged, “that’s really nice, Kacchan,” he smiled, leaning his head on Katsuki’s shoulder.
“I guess.”
They hadn’t been walking long when the light show came into view. Izuku gasped, releasing Katsuki’s arm as he stared.
Silver and gold arches stretched across the narrow street, wrapped in bright, white lights. The roofs of the buildings were covered in brightly colored stars that illuminated the sparkling snow, and the lamp posts were decorated like candy canes. A large statue of silver bells sat in the green field at the center of the plaza.
Katsuki had to admit, it wasn’t all that unpleasant to look at.
Izuku was fucking loving it. Katsuki watched as he stood under an arch, beaming in delight as he admired the view.
Does he know? Katsuki thought back on the events of the day. Does he really know?
“Kacchan, come look,” Izuku called to him.
Katsuki was still lost in thought as he approached, and Izuku paused, eyebrows furrowing in concern.
“Are you o-,” Izuku startled as Katsuki’s hands came to cradle his face.
There were so many things left unsaid, things he’d wanted to say but didn’t know how. Katsuki had always been better with actions than words, and Izuku had always accepted that. He accepted and loved him as he was without a second fucking thought.
“The strongest person this world has ever known.”
Izuku made him stronger.
“The legacy of Dynamight.”
Staring into eyes that were as soft as the falling snow, Katsuki decided he knew.
“Izuku,” Katsuki murmured, looking him straight in the eyes.
Every moment had led to this.
“Kacchan?” Izuku breathed.
The legacy he cared for most was the one he’d forged with Izuku.
“Marry me.”
Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Listen, I’m- I’m not good at this sappy shit. I don’t know what to fucking say. But-” Katsuki released he didn’t realize he’d been holding as Izuku’s palm brushed his cheek, “the world is a fucking shitty place. But it’s less shitty with you. And I don’t want anyone else by my side. So marry me,” Katsuki voice softened, “Please."
It wasn’t exactly the most romantic of proposals, and there wasn’t a ring, but Izuku didn’t seem to mind.
“Okay,” he whispered. A breathtaking smile spread across his face that put all the fucking lights in the world to shame.
Katsuki met Izuku halfway, lips colliding in a passionate kiss.
The world could be ending for all Katsuki knew, and he couldn’t fucking care less.
Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck, murmuring I love you against his lips, over and over again as he deepened the kiss, and nothing else mattered. Nothing mattered except for this fucking moment as they melted into each other, ignoring the world around them.
Just as their tongues brushed, Izuku pulled back, resting their foreheads together.
“We should-,” Izuku breathed with swollen lips, “should we go home?”
Reluctantly, Katsuki lifted his head and nodded.
“Yeah.”
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It was past midnight when Katsuki woke. They had fallen asleep on the couch, Izuku curled into his side with Nibbles, with Chip resting at their feet. He watched the shadows from the fireplace dancing on the wall, the room gradually becoming dimmer as the flames died out.
Izuku stirred in his sleep, tilting his head up to look at Katsuki with a blissful smile on his face.
“Merry Christmas, Kacchan.”
Katsuki pulled him closer.
“Merry Christmas, Deku.”
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A/N: thank you for reading!!!!! this is the first fic i’ve ever posted so im super nervous lmao.
also: the italic lines are supposed to be Katsuki’s thoughts, I wasn’t sure if that was totally clear lmao
also!! big shoutout to @jekacatrina and @thatpinkbetch who helped me with the idea for kacchan’s present and also for the encouragement!!! (best parents ever)
#much love for my bunbun i hope you like!#and my fambly!#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha#mha#bkdk#bakudeku#ktdk#katsudeku#fambly#birdie writes#my fic#its sfw but it gets a lil steamy just a heads up if that's not your cup of tea#how the fuck do you write a kiss?? i sure as hell dont know#anywho#thanks yall!
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To All the Boys I’ve Loved - The Popular Guy (1)
route: Tooru Oikawa
genre: fluff
wc: 3.4k
This is a collab from our server @babythotshq.
Experience other routes here.
Route masterlist.
For the last time, he took in the sight of the volleyball gym. This is the last day he’ll ever step foot in one again. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of the place while reliving the memories he gained for the last three years. Training, wins, and losses – glory and bitterness, he recalls them all with no regret.
Yet, he found it best to leave the sport behind.
After having his fill, he turned around and found a girl waiting for him. At first glance, it looks like she’s going to confess. She had the look — blushing cheeks, starstruck eyes, and a letter, only it was not just one letter. She was holding one too many envelopes.
“Um. Oikawa-san?”
He smiles, his signature one when greeting his fans, “Yes?”
She hands him a brown envelope that has ‘Oikawa’ written on it. He usually knows how to react to letters given to him. He’d be ‘happy and excited’ to receive them, but something tells him that this is not a usual letter.
“It’s not from me, but uhh, can I have a photo with you?” Her voice was a pitch higher as she voiced out her request.
“Of course.”
She took out her phone with excited hands and they both posed with peace signs. Before she gives him the envelope, she hurriedly gets a pen and scribbles something on the envelope. After she hands it to him, she bows and walks away.
He usually does not bother with fan letters these days. They say the same things anyways, just written differently. Yet, he has a strong feeling that he must read this letter. For the first time in a long time, he’s thrilled to open a fan letter.
When he gets home, he plops himself on his futon and carefully opens the envelope.
Hey,
I know this is weird since we’ve never talked except for that night but hear me out. I kind of like you, not in the sense where i know everything there's to know about you but in a way where if I see you at random times of the day, you just kinda lift my mood…
Maybe it's just because I find you inspiring?
You were kind of an all around guy, super nice, with a fun personality to the boot. As much as I liked you, I envied you too. How could you make everything look so easy? As an overachiever who grew up burning her candles every damn night, you made it all look effortless and to add it all up, you didn’t even brag! How annoying you are.
What’s even more annoying is that I can see your profile on magazine spreads and ads as if seeing your handsome face in school wasn’t enough.
I hate how it seems like something you’d do, yet at the same time, something you wouldn’t. Get what I mean? I thought your passion was for Volleyball, leaving modeling just as a hobby, but you do that exceptionally well too.
Indeed you were out of reach and definitely on another level.
Yet that night when I first got to talk to you on the farewell dance, you weren’t on another level. You were just you and it made me realize that maybe I should take a page off your book, “It’s all about a leap of faith, Y/N.” you said.
A leap of faith. Such words from a guy I’ve been crushing on wasn’t something I’d expect. I always thought you played safe, stayed behind safety bars but when I saw that dangerous glint in your eyes, I realized, you never did.
You were always like that, people were just so caught up with the idea of the model/volleyball player with good grades that they never saw past that. They don’t think about the devotion and commitment you must’ve poured to be good at everything you do.
I know I won’t be seeing you again and it’s kind of sad to be honest since you kind of brighten up my day but I’ll remember you, especially those words. Probably even buy a signed poster of you someday.
Take care always,
Y/N
Oikawa’s eyes remain at the signature of the letter with surprise and amusement. Y/N? The awkward, timid girl from the dance? He reads the letter once again just to make sure he’s read it right.
He knows how popular he is, both in and out of school. He’s always approached by random people, mostly girls. Those who greet him and ask for pictures on the streets he immediately forgets. But the students, he somehow can remember their faces, especially when he sees them frequently ogling him at school. Being the captain of the volleyball team while working as a model meant having fans cheer for him on the sides. He doesn’t mind of course. He’s used to it. He knows how to smile for them, talk to them, make them like him even more.
By the time graduation was just around the corner, the faces of his fans at school were already familiar to him. So when you talked to him at the night of the dance, he had question marks looming on top of his head. Prior to that night, he had no idea who you are. He hasn’t seen you around. He just knew you were in the same year with him because it was the farewell dance for the seniors.
That whole night was tiring. If it wasn’t the girls asking him to dance, it would be students asking to take selfies and/or asking for his number. He’s used to the adoration and he loves it, revels on it even. But that night was on another level. They didn’t care about his personal space anymore. The dance was their perfect excuse to hog him.
So when he had the chance, he escaped from the place and took refuge in a restricted area. The dance took place only in the school grounds, so they had closed off certain rooms for equipment storage and preparation materials for the party. He snuck into one of the rooms. He didn’t bother turning on the lights since he did not want anyone noticing that someone might be there.
He took a seat near the windows and looked at the main grounds from that room. The bonfire was lit in the middle of the place while students frolic around, having the time of their senior year.
He’s always at the center of everything he’s involved with and it was fucking awesome. But sometimes, just sometimes, it gets a little bit too rowdy. Once in a while, It’s nice to sit out like he was doing now and watch from the sidelines as students like him have their moments like this.
The door suddenly opened, much to his dismay. Was he followed? He made sure he wasn’t. He’s a bit ticked off. Some fans really don’t know when to quit. Maybe he’s been too generous to them.
He heard someone trying to flick open the lights, but the room still remained dark.
“Huh? The lights aren’t working?” The stranger said. He stayed in his place, hoping that he wouldn’t get noticed and be left alone. Although, the chances of that happening is really slim even though he knows that only the silhouette of his back can be seen from the way he was facing the light of the bonfire.
Like he predicted, you notice him not long after. But what came out of you wasn’t what he was expecting.
“Hey! Students are not allowed here. Go back to the grounds.”
He turns around from his seat to look at you. You squint at him, trying to make out his face that was hidden by shadows. But he sees you, how you walked slowly to him so you can identify who he was and how your face contorted from strict to horrified.
That’s a first.
Even though you didn’t know it was him, you could at least be glad that it was indeed him.
As you’re closer now, he confirmed that you weren’t one of them. You didn’t follow him. You found him.
“O-Oikawa san?!”
He executes his ever pleasant smile. “Hi! Do you mind if I stay for just a few more minutes?” Surely, you can give him that. You do know him after all. “Um, well... Students shouldn’t be here.” You responded hesitantly.
He wanted to applaud you for refusing. It’s been a while since someone denied him of a request, especially a girl. Nothing he could do about it though. He’d rather just find another hiding place instead of convincing you.
He stands up and heads for the door when you suddenly block his way and wave your hands frantically. “Wait wait. Uhh. Err.” You look around as you try to search for the words to say. “Before you leave. Can I ask you something?” Your face is flushed red as you put your hands together and fiddle with your thumbs, obviously nervous about what you were going to say.
“How do you do it?”
His brows knit together in confusion.
You must have realized how vague that sounded since you spoke again. “I mean, how are you so good at everything?” The admiration in your eyes wasn’t like the one he sees from everyone else. It was one that showed respect, as if you recognize the hard work he’s put in everything he does. And for once, it felt like someone perceived him as an actual human being.
“What’s your name again?”
“I-I’m y/n l/n!.” You said a bit too loud with a shaking voice. It was funny.
You must be part of the farewell dance committee since you seemed like you were about to get something from the room for the event. You’re also wearing the school uniform, unlike everybody else who’s dolled up. What a waste. You’re kinda cute.
You’re at enough distance for his arms to reach you and pull you closer. He grabs your waist with his left hand and holds your hand with his right, getting you in a dance position. Your eyes widen. The fluster in your cheeks goes a shade deeper. Your whole body becomes rigid while your hands tremble at his touch. He can literally see your chest rise up and down from breathing too heavily. He almost wants to laugh at your reaction.
“Oikawa-san?! What’re you doing?” you whisper in a panicked voice.
He really wasn’t sure, but he felt like teasing you. “We’re still part of the farewell dance, yeah? Indulge me and I’ll indulge you.”
He starts swaying slowly. You follow clumsily with that look of uncertainty and nervousness still transparent in your whole face. He wonders what’s going on in your mind. A lot of others had desperately asked him to dance with them, which he all declined because accepting one invitation meant accepting all of the others.
But within the small confines of this dark room, he can do as he pleases without any regard to mindful eyes.
“Why aren’t you looking at me though?” You grimace at his question. “I’m not used to being this close to good-looking people.” You bluntly said, your expression is still of discomfort. You really are interesting despite the aloofness you show him.
Still, you moved with him to the faint rhythm of the music outside.
“How I do it, you ask?”
That’s when you meet his gaze, your eyes curious and attentive to the next thing he’s about to say. Your whole body loosens up, as if you forgot that he was holding you.
“It’s all about a leap of faith.” He was awaiting the look of puzzlement in your eyes. He knew how obscure his answer was.
But it didn’t come. Your eyes retained the same inquisitiveness they held before.
“How can you sound so sure about something uncertain?”
Smart girl. You clearly understood what he meant. Maybe he can give you a real answer, one that he hasn’t said in any interview for it showed a dark side of him that doesn’t sit well with his image.
“Hmmm. Between you and me, y/n, when I hit something,” he dips his head just a few inches from your ear.
“I hit it.. until it breaks.”
He felt you shiver at his words. Then he let you go and patted your head while you were frozen in place.
“Nice to meet you,” he said while exiting the dark room.
After that dance, he never saw you again. He didn’t think much of it. If he’d be honest, it’s like it never happened. There were no traces, no witnesses, only you two in the dimness of that enclosed room. The exchange you had was just as brief as well.
But your letter, it ties up with what little words were said between the two of you. The admiration is just the surface of it. Beneath that was perceptiveness, envy, and compassion. Four different things melded coherently to give a refined message of encouragement, all in the form of this letter.
He has to see you. The letter needs to be answered.
Only then he realizes that you’re both senior students who already graduated. He didn’t even see you on campus as students. How the fuck can he even find you now that he has no chance of seeing you at all?
He quickly gets the envelope to see anything that might be a clue to how he can find you.
And there it was. A number written hurriedly at the edge of the envelope with a note that said ‘call me’.
The corner of his lips shoot up. He’s a hundred percent it wasn’t your number. It couldn’t be you based on how refined you wrote that letter.
It was the girl from earlier, but he doesn’t mind. At least you’re traceable now.
—
He was able to get your number from your sister in exchange for a video greeting. Unfortunately, your sister was texting non-stop so he had to block her number after he got what he wanted.
He didn’t text you yet. First, he wanted to see the university you decided to go to. It was one piece of information he managed to extract from your sister.
He’ll take a look around first. He wanted to see what uni life is like since he’s not going to attend one. He couldn’t tell if it was a busy day or there’s this many people on a daily basis. A few minutes of walking around and he could already hear the murmurs in the background.
‘He’s so hot.’
‘Does he go here?’
‘He looks like a celebrity’
Well, it couldn’t be helped. It was him, Tooru Oikawa. Even if they don’t know who he is, his looks attract attention.
Maybe he should’ve worn his cap and facemask. Admirers will just get in the way of seeing you. Maybe he’ll just come back later.
He’s about to dip when two girls approached him. “Hi! Are you a freshman like us?”
Too late. He should’ve left sooner. When one comes, they’ll start flocking at him right after. Since he’s already caught, it wouldn’t hurt to accommodate onlookers.
“No, sorry. I’m just visiting someone.” He replied warmly. Another girl comes his way, followed by another, and another. Yep, just like he anticipated.
“You’re looking for someone too?” One girl asked, then her friend whispered something to her. It was supposed to be a whisper but it was loud enough for him to hear. “These hot men better not be looking for the same girl. I swear I’ll lose it if they are.”
He remembers the other colored envelopes your sister was holding.
Ahh. So he was not the only one, huh? The original plan was there was no plan. He just wanted to see you again and talk about the letter. But based on what he heard, he has competitors now.
That just won’t do.
He tuned out the girly muttering and looked for a way to flee from the scene.
Among the crowd he was attracting, there you stood, paralyzed in the middle of the path with your eyes expanded in horror.
Great! He found you.
He filled his lungs with air.
“Yahoooooo! Y/N!” He waved enthusiastically at your direction which caused everyone else to look at you. Instead of acknowledging him, you took a step back, turned around, and half-ran away.
You really are funny if you honestly thought you could outrun him.
“Excuse me, ladies. That’s her I came to visit.” He hears the dejected groans but pays them no mind as he makes his way to you.
With his long strides, he didn’t really have to put as much effort in chasing as you did in running away from him. He’s impressed at your dedication though. You didn’t even dare look back. That’s good for you. At least you won’t see him right behind you already.
He wouldn’t mind following you a little bit more just to see how long you can last before you turn your head back and check where he is. But he needs to be the first recipient of the letter who gets to talk to you. He has an idea to throw off anyone who could possibly be around, waiting for their own chance to go talk to you.
He picks up the pace just a little so he can close in on you. When you are within reach, he loops an arm around you which causes you to stop dead on your tracks.
“That’s not nice of you, y/n. You heard me calling you.”
You didn’t have to look at him. He knows that you know it’s him. You gulp before facing him. A terrified look spread on your face upon seeing his, verifying that it was truly him.
You looked around nervously, assessing the situation you were in. You saw something that unnerved you, but he couldn’t tell what it was. You suddenly remove his arm, only to take his hands.
You spoke with a worried expression.
“Come with me.”
You drag him haphazardly, leading him somewhere in the university. He has no idea what’s running in your head as he lets you take him away. Though, he doesn’t mind. You’re essentially the reason why he came anyways.
You reach inside one of the buildings with less people. Still on full alert, your eyes skimmed the area before going inside one of the rooms, pulling him with you. Once inside, you let go of his hand.
Without catching your breath, you yelp at him. “Why are you here?!”
He reaches for his back pocket and takes out the brown envelope. “Cause of this.” He smiles sweetly while he waves the enclosed letter at you, then puts it back to where it came from. “Your sister’s a real gem for going out of her way to give it to me,” his statement drenched with irony.
Instead of answering him, you walked three steps away and faced the wall. You softly knock your head against the wall, looking down as you mutter, “What did I do to deserve this?” Followed by another knock, “What did I do to deserve this?”
Before you can do it the third time, he moves toward you and places his back hand where your forehead is supposed to hit again. You look at him distressfully, not removing your forehead against his hand. “Why are you here?”
“I just told you why, Y/n-chan.”
You stand up straight and sigh wearily. “I mean why even bother? I’m sure you get tons of those on a regular basis.”
You were right. Among other letters, he only read yours. Even though you didn’t intend to send the letter, he thought you’d be at least glad that he went after you. Instead, you were questioning his decision of doing so. Not once in any of your limited interactions had you agreed with him.
He really just wanted to talk to you, initially at least. But you prove to be more and more entertaining that he’s about to do something totally abrupt.
He supports his weight by leaning his elbow against the wall where his hand is. He slightly tips his head to the side as his smile veers from pleasant to haughty.
“I bothered cause I want to ask you out.”
Route masterlist.
Taglist (those in bold and crossed out can’t be tagged):
@sakusarights @elianetsantana @tetsujime @kweenregent @ne-kuroo @restricted-illusion @avbreyissad @kac-chowsballs @aksteldesu @justatempo @barali.k @humanitysbiggestsimp @al3xx1s @kellesvt @isentsworld @daniella-uwu @bokuakadaily @kitababie @luckypartyranchmug @melialeic @omigogames @cafetetsu @sleep3deprived @vicassa @the-writing-otaku @chibishae34 @chickennuggetthot @tsukisemi @timeturnerss @mariachiiii @spaceboitrash @dearestsuna @atsumubabe @cadenceh2o @hawkssnugget @hikari-writes @dabilove27 @isleofnajera @thathoneybee3 @tsumue @uncleirohsbobbatea @shinhiromi @solarskiesdream @greyevangeline @graykageyama @holycometz @mattsuns-prettybaby @fluffymilkbread @rogueofbullshit @turntechsquishy @tweety1501 @sunashi @stale-sandcastle @kellesvt @heykoutarou @kuroosleftkneecap
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a step on the right path | c.y.j
Choi Yeonjun
❦ description: you tag along with your boyfriend yeonjun on a hike, which happens to be a little bit more of a struggle than you originally thought.
❦ genre: fluff
❦ word count: 2,185
++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++
The birds had finally started to chirp outside the nearest window, where the bright light was currently shining through. The light highlighted your lazy form, phone in hand, on the couch. You woke up slightly earlier than usual today, meaning your boyfriend was still asleep in the bedroom. This had led you to where you are now, scrolling through Instagram in envy of all of your friends who were traveling. This wouldn’t have been a problem if those same friends hadn’t convinced you that your life was boring. Sure you spent most of your free time at your house, but that was only when you weren’t at work, out with friends, or with Yeonjun. However, you let them get in your head and decided you wanted to prove to them that you could be active.
You could hear the alarm that was currently going off inside your room, signifying that it was now 7 in the morning and time for your boyfriend to get up. The shuffling of the bedsheets could be heard, which shocked you as Yeonjun typically slept for at least five more minutes. You concluded that he got up earlier today just to go on his weekly hike, which sparked a brilliant idea.
“Yeonjun!” You scrambled off the couch as you stumbled your way towards Yeonjun with a big bright smile. Yeonjun looked towards the door frame, where you stood wearing your famous ‘I have an idea’ face. “Well good morning sunshine.” You seemed extra giddy today, which warmed Yeonjun’s heart. The sight of you in the morning always managed to give his day a nice start.
“Okay I know this may seem out of the blue, but I have a great idea that may or may not-” You rambled on growing less confident before Yeonjun cut you off, “What is it baby?” His words stopped you in your tracks and you decided that it’s too late to back out now. Yeonjun continued to get ready as he looked at you, waiting for what you needed to say. “Well I thought that you know... since I’m already up... I could go hiking with you this time.” Your weight had shifted between your two feet as you stretched your fingers. You knew that his answer would likely be yes, but you also knew that you were never one to perform any type of exercise.
With your head hung low, you could hear his feet that made their way towards you. Yeonjun thought you were cute like this, but he could tell that you were embarrassed by the way you subconsciously shrunk, probably trying to make yourself invisible. In attempt to reassure you, he gently took both of your hands in one of his, as the other reached your chin. After Yeonjun slowly raised your head, you were met with a warm comforting smile, sending butterflies to your stomach. While looking at him like this you could see right through his chocolatey eyes. The man infront of you truly loves you with all his heart, you knew that not just from his actions and words, but his eyes. You couldn’t deny the overwhelming yet beautiful feelings you had towards him, you were head over heels in love with him too.
“Of course baby. How about hiking four miles?” Yeonjun had usually hiked at least eight miles two times a week, so you figured four miles would be easy. Your mistake was that you failed to remember that Yeonjun makes everything sound and look easier than it actually is. His yes was enough for you to hurry to your closet and change into a more appropriate outfit.
++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++
When you first got to the hiking trail, you were filled with excitement and confidence. It was kind of like that feeling you get on New Years, thinking that you are actually going to change something. The giant green trees around the trail seemed really calming, giving you a sense of peace. The nature surrounding the two of you gave you a break from the many buildings that surround you everyday. You could tell why Yeonjun preferred hiking over a walk in the city. Before actually starting the hike, you made sure to get a few pictures to prove to your friends that you were indeed doing something on your break. As you posed by a tree with your hand in a peace sign, you noticed Yeonjun’s tiny gasp. Just when you were about to head over to him in confusion he told you not to move. “Y/N don’t freak out... there’s a snake right beside you.” Although the way he said it seemed calm and collected, you could hear the panic in his voice. Hearing your name and snake in the same sentence did not sit well with you. With your face visibly paling as your heart seemed to beat quicker, you froze. “Where?” You asked in a panicked state as you looked around the ground.
Checking the ground for any stick looking figure, you didn’t see any sign of impending doom. In a hurry to get away from the danger zone, you basically leapt towards Yeonjun, only to be met with laughter. When you looked at Yeonjun, confusion was written all over your face, while his face showed mischievousness. The smirk plastered on his lips had you slowly put two and two together. “You should’ve seen your face!” The prankster’s laughter proving that he enjoyed your reaction, came to an abrupt stop as he took one glance at the look on your face. With arms crossed your eyes were burning in fury, giving Yeonjun the hint that he fucked up. At this moment, all you wanted to do was punish the person who made you fear for your life.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Yeonjun managed to screech out as you jumped onto his back. Trying to remember all of the self defense videos you’ve watched, you put him in a choke hold. Yeonjun, now fearing for his life, was spinning repeatedly in attempt to throw you off. It didn’t take long for Yeonjun to pry your arms off, causing you to fall to the ground. Sensing freedom, Yeonjun made a run for it, sprinting down the trail. “Forgive me!” His plea was heard through the endless laughter, which turned out to be contagious. Running after him you were laughing at his fast figure, “Get back here Choi Yeonjun!”
++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++
Having to run after Yeonjun turned out to be a major set back, as you were now only a mile and a half in and completely exhausted. Your heavy breathing was hard to hide and you felt like a heater with the amount of heat radiating off of you. Luckily, Yeonjun seeming to sense your exhaustion, starts to slow his pace. This gave you a chance to at least try and catch your breath.
“Why don’t we take a little break? I’m in need of a drink.” Those exact words lifted the weight of your body up, being grateful to finally take a break. Unlike you, Yeonjun hiked often and showed no signs of struggling, so you knew that he was stopping just for you. None the less you were not about to take this moment for granted, and let your wobbly legs rest as the cold water eased your dry throat.
You happened to glance at Yeonjun while gulping down your water. His grey sweat-stained tank and blond hair that stuck to his wet forehead only made you stare in awe. With any other human being you would easily be disgusted at the wet substance, but on Yeonjun it just seemed to sparkle. I must of done something ground breaking in my past life to deserve someone like him, you thought.
Noticing your staring, Yeonjun takes a look at your tired and sweaty figure. He found this sight of you adorable, pushing back his dirty thoughts that he could deal with later. “I think you need a shower.” He teased with a smirk on his face. It took less than a second for him to flip his water bottle towards you and pull another prank. The water squirted at you was cold and unavoidable, so you decided to join him in the fun. “Oh it’s so on!” You began to squirt him nonstop until he was soaked, of course getting soaked by Yeonjun in the process. You would never forget his reaction to the water hitting his beautiful face.
It was only until both of your bottles were empty that the two of you decided not to waste anymore water. After pouring the last of the water in the bottles, Yeonjun’s hands found their way to your hips, resting there. The sudden contact sent a spark throughout your body. When your gaze lifted from his gentle hands to his eyes, you noticed the way his brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight. As you observed his eyes, that were focused on your lips, you had to bite back your smile.
Biting your lip in anticipation for a kiss, you realized he had other plans once his gentle hands started poking at your sides. Your body seemed to be screaming at you to get away as you squirmed around. It had only been a few seconds and you were already falling to the floor yelling out, “Yeonjun! Baby! Stop before I pee my pants!” You had to slap at his hands for him to finally get the hint that you were indeed about to piss yourself. He stopped right in time with his hands raised in the air. “It’s not my fault you let your guard down! I saw my chance, so I took it.” He shrugged wearing his signature smile. “Oh... well if that’s the case then yeah go ahead and tickle me.” Sarcasm was laced in your voice as you rolled your eyes, but none the less decided to get back on track.
“Come on you goober, let’s finish up.” You lightly punched Yeonjun on the shoulder and started walking once more with newly found energy. “Uh... wrong way baby.” Quickly turning around, you pretend nothing happened, still walking with newly found energy. “Only a few more miles to go.” You could hear Yeonjun snort, “Unless you want to go down that trail you almost went on. Then we’d add 5 more miles.” You decided to ignore his teasing, smiling as you continued to walk down the correct path.
++••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••++
Seeing the half a mile sign made your stomach drop. You’d think that it would motivate you, but having learned how long that 1/2 could take, it managed to do the opposite. You swore your soul was long gone after this four mile hike. If it wasn’t for Yeonjun, who turned out to be your literal savior, you probably would’ve dropped dead by now. You didn’t have long left, but you couldn’t stop stumbling. Yeonjun, having seen this, offered his back, which you gladly took. You still managed to feel bad because you were the one who suggested hiking together in the first place. However, Yeonjun took some of your guilt away by saying things like, you’re not heavy and I love having my baby rely on me.
Your head was rested against Yeonjun’s shoulder as he continued to try and convince you to sleep. The idea of falling asleep was tempting, but you could at least stay awake for your hardworking boyfriend. In order to stay awake, you had to focus on the many things surrounding you, which is when you happened to see the gravel that signified the end. Seeing the parking lot was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, it filled you with hope. The joy that was previously gone, returned to your eyes. You tapped Yeonjun in excitement, ready for him to let you down. “You can let me down now.” Yeonjun, laughing at your sudden energy, complied and set you down.
As soon as your feet hit the ground, you took your first step to bolt to the car. However, before you could build up speed, Yeonjun softly grabbed your wrist to stop you. Quickly spinning you around, he surprised you with the feeling of his soft plump lips against yours. The sudden feeling sent your heart flying. His lips lingered there for five seconds before he pulled away and rested his head against yours. “You did amazing today Y/N, and I enjoyed hiking with you.” His words made your heart flutter. You were scared that he would be disappointed with how exhausted you managed to get, but his kind words filled you with relief.
“Thank you for letting me tag along,” you smiled taking his hands in yours, “I love you.” Pecking his lips, you were confident that he makes you the happiest you could ever be. Before giving him a chance to comprehend what you were doing, you ran to the car. “Last one to the car is a rotten egg!” You yelled, making sure Yeonjun wasn’t about to catch up. Laughter filled the forest air as Yeonjun complained about you getting a head start. “You cheater!”
#yeonjun#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun fluff#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun drabbles#boyfriend yeonjun#tomorrow x together#txt#txt x reader#txt fanfic#txt fluff#txt ff#txt yeonjun#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt drabbles#txt fic#yeonjun fanfic#yeonjun fic
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meet & greet - fukase (vocaloid) omorashi
commission for a lovely customer who asked for fukase vocaloid omorashi! this was a super fun fic to work on, so i hope you all enjoy!!
read on ao3
***
“How long till the doors open?” Fukase asks, glancing down at his phone to check the time. The meet and greet is supposed to start around noon and go all the way till three, maybe even longer considering the amount of tickets they’d sold over the past couple of weeks. Fukase isn’t exactly excited to get swarmed by the hoard of pushy, grabby fangirls and fanboys he knows he’ll have to deal with, but there are always those few kind, respectful fans that make the hours of sitting and signing and taking photos bearable.
“You’ve got five minutes,” his manager tells him, holding out a cold bottle of water. “Better drink up. You’re gonna have to do a lot of talking today. We basically sold out of tickets, and now that we’re offering video packages I’m guessing people are gonna have you saying all kinds of stuff to the camera.”
Fukase sighs, reaching out to accept the water bottle. There’s still a few drops of water clinging to the outside, and the coolness against his skin makes him shiver. He uncaps it quickly, tilting his head back and taking a few deep swigs before he comes up for air. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he’d been until now, and by the time his manager is calling for the doors to open he’s already downed almost all of the bottle.
Soon enough, a crowd of loud, excited fans is ushered into the main room, forming a long line that wraps around the room like a snake. Fukase eyes the throng warily as he enters from behind the photo area, pursing his lips when the screams grow louder as the fans see him. He hears calls of “Fukase, I love you!” and “You’re the best, Fukase-san!” and smiles politely as he sits down at the signing table.
The smile melts off his face as he feels a twinge in his abdomen, a careful reminder from his bladder of all the drinks he’d had in the morning, not to mention the water he’d just drank minutes ago. Shoot, he thinks, glancing down at himself and squeezing his legs together once before relaxing again. I should’ve asked to go before the meet and greet started. He hasn’t gone to the bathroom since he woke up that morning, and even that feels like forever ago.
You’ll be fine, he tells himself as the line begins to move forward, the first nervous fan clutching his poster as he makes his way to the signing table. It’s only three hours. Just try not to drink anything else and you’ll make it through.
His manager, standing at the side of the table next to Fukase, gives his chair a gentle kick as the first fan approaches. Fukase snaps back to reality, trying to smile and ignore the twinges in his bladder. “Hey there,” he says, watching the boy’s face light up at his voice. “How are you?”
“F-Fine!” the boy exclaims in a high-pitched voice, mouth a wavery line. “I’m a big fan, Fukase-san! It’s an honor to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Fukase says, sliding the poster across the table and using one of the pens on the table to sign his name. “Did you want to take a picture?”
The boy nods vigorously, excitement seeping out of him. Fukase grits his teeth as he stands up to walk to the photobooth--he hadn’t realized how often he’d have to stand up and sit down to take pictures. He sends a quick glare at the almost finished bottle of water on the table before looking towards the camera, sticking out his tongue and doing his signature smirk before sending the first kid off with a wave and a pat on the back.
The next person in line is another shy one, this time a girl with Fukase’s newest CD in her hands. “Nice to meet you, Fukase-san!” she says, setting the album down in front of him carefully. “I love your music!”
“Thank you for your support,” Fukase says with a quick smile, scrawling his name across the front of the CD. “I’m glad you like my music.”
The girl is practically vibrating with excitement as she poses with him for a photo, holding up a peace sign as she does. Fukase shifts his weight from one side to another as he waits for the photographer to give the OK, flashing the girl one last smile before he heads back to his seat. He presses his knees together subconsciously, hunching his back a little bit to take some of the strain off his bladder. It’s not near a dire situation yet, but he’d still prefer to get this meet and greet over before it becomes one.
Surely it won’t get that bad within three hours, though. And even if it does, he can always ask for a bathroom break in the middle of the session. He saw a bathroom on his way into the building, so he knows exactly where it is, and surely his fans wouldn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes while he relieves himself.
He stores the thought in the back of his mind as the next fan approaches, turning all of his attention to the crowd. It’ll be over in no time, he tells himself as he signs the next CD, the girl in front of him squealing with delight. For now, you just have to wait.
Waiting, as it turns out, is not easy when you really, really have to pee.
Fukase is struck with this thought at the same time that his bladder contracts, causing him to slam his legs together and shift his hips from side to side. His hand is clenched into a fist on top of the table to keep it from darting down to his crotch for a quick squeeze--there are too many fans around, and if a photo of him holding himself got out to the public, it would put too large a stain on his career.
“Next in line!” his manager shouts, and Fukase forces himself to straighten his back and relax his arms, trying his best to appear normal. He watches the next girl in line step forward confidently, a large, glossy poster outstretched in one hand. She lays it across the table with a flourish, hitting Fukase with a glittering smile.
“Nice to meet you, Fukase-kun!” she says with a laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m a fan of yours.”
“Thank you,” Fukase grits out, grabbing a pen from the jar and uncapping it with shaky hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“My name is Aina,” the girl says, holding out a hand. Fukase drops the capped pen to the table and grabs Aina’s hand weakly, giving it a single, jerky shake before letting go.
“Nice to meet you, Aina,” he repeats, going back to signing the poster. “Did you want a pho-”
“You know, I had a chance to meet you before,” Aina interrupts. “A couple years ago, actually! But I was totally sick and couldn’t make it to the event. I’m so glad I snagged these tickets so I could come meet you for reals!”
“I’m glad too,” Fukase says, shifting his weight in his chair as he speaks. It’s nice that you got to meet me, but I’d appreciate it if you’d hurry up! he adds in his head, crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning forward on the table.
“That poster’s been hanging on my wall ever since your debut,” Aina tells him, gesturing to the signed poster. “I thought I’d never get a chance to have your signature on it, but look at me now!”
“Yeah,” Fukase agrees, nodding tensely. He’s had conversations like these with fans before, though he’s never had to pee while waiting for them to finish up their thoughts. It makes the whole experience that much more unpleasant, though he knows his manager would kill him if he ends up looking disinterested.
“Well, should we take a photo together?” Aina suggests at last, gesturing to the photobooth. “You know, to commemorate the occasion.”
“Of course,” Fukase practically sighs, though the idea of standing and posing doesn’t sound too appealing to him right now. Regardless, he forces himself to his feet, trying to hide his grimace as gravity tugs on his bladder and makes him want to squirm on the spot. He takes short, jagged steps towards the photobooth as Aina waits for him, looking into the camera with as good a smile as he can manage while she poses next to him.
“Could you move your legs a bit further apart, Fukase-san?” the photographer asks, gesturing to Fukase’s lower half. Reluctantly, Fukase moves his legs a bit further apart, tensing his whole body when a small wave of need hits him. Aina doesn’t seem to notice, posing happily next to him as the photographer takes a picture with her phone.
“Thank you for your support,” Fukase says, taking a step back towards the table, but Aina holds out a hand to stop him before he can sit again.
“Look how cute it turned out!” she exclaims, holding the phone out for him to see. “You look amazing as ever, Fukase-kun!”
Fukase glances at the photo, cringing internally as he takes in his awkward stance. Hopefully Aina won’t put the picture out on social media, he thinks, but before he can sit down again something else catches his eye.
Oh, fuck, he thinks as Aina moves her phone away, cold fear settling into his bones. It’s one in the afternoon? How has it only been an hour?!
“Next!” his manager calls from beside him, but Fukase barely notices as the next fan approaches. If his need has gotten this bad in the span of an hour, and he’s got to be here all the way until three, there’s no way he’ll make it without a bathroom break. He’s about to whisper his request to his manager, but the next boy in line is already at the table, waiting with a sign board tucked under his arm.
“H-Hello,” Fukase says, his nerves a little frayed still. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Daisuke,” the boy says, sounding almost… bored? “But don’t sign it with my name--I’m here to get a gift for my sister.”
He doesn’t even listen to my music? Fukase thinks, trying his best not to let his annoyance show. He’s not one to flaunt a big ego, but this event was supposed to be for his fans. Even if this boy is just here to get a quick signature, that’s one more body he has to deal with before he can slip away and pee, and he already feels more desperate than he’d ever dared to be in front of his fans. He shifts his weight forward, leaning heavily on the table as the boy slides the sign board in front of him.
“Well, what’s your sister’s name?” he asks, doing his best to sound calm and reasonable. If his manager catches him being rude to fans, he’ll never hear the end of it.
“Her name is Makoto,” the boy says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She has, like, all of your CDs.”
“That’s great to hear,” Fukase says, his breath hitching at the end as he’s hit with a small surge of desperation. He pushes his arms into the table and lifts his ass barely an inch off the seat, tensing his legs and locking them at the knee as he finishes signing. “It was nice to-”
“I want to get a picture, too,” the boy cuts him off, and Fukase feels a flare of anger inside his stomach. What the hell? This kid doesn’t even like my music, and now he wants a picture?
“Of course,” Fukase’s manager says, speaking for him when he takes too long to answer. “Is it for your sister? We could have Fukase hold up the sign board and record a video message to make it special.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” the boy says dismissively. Fukase balls his hands into fists, letting out a long, slow breath to keep his temper in check. His bladder chooses that moment to contract again, and without thinking he reaches under the table to grab himself.
The relief of pressure against his dick for the first time in an hour is heavenly, his need automatically reduced to a dull nagging feeling. He sighs out loud, taking a second to enjoy the outside help, but his relief is short lived. Both his manager and the boy are staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to head for the photobooth.
“Sorry,” Fukase says, not feeling very sorry at all, and reluctantly lets go of his crotch to grab onto the sign board and push himself into a standing position. The boy follows him in front of the backdrop (though each step Fukase takes feels like a mini earthquake inside his abdomen) and stands blankly next to him while the photographer sets up.
“What should I say to her?” he asks the boy, gripping the sides of the signboard with white knuckles. God, he feels so full, his whole body tensed and locked, and now he has to appear normal on video to make this jerk’s sister happy. He hopes he doesn’t look as desperate as he feels, though he can tell from the looks he’s getting that it’s clear something’s wrong.
“Not sure,” the boy says, uncaring. Fukase resists the urge to snap at him, tapping his foot against the ground impatiently. Standing still is hard.
“Recording in three, two, one,” the photographer says, holding out the phone. Fukase forces his usual smile back onto his face, holding up the sign board for his fans to see. “H-Hi, Makoto,” he says, his voice wavering a bit. “Thank you for, ah, being one of my best fans!”
He’s hit by a sudden urge in the middle of his sentence, his bladder reminding him that it’s not happy with being ignored. He bends forward at the waist, crossing one leg over the other and holding the board a bit lower, trying to hide his awkward pose. “This is F-Fukase, thanking you for your love and sssupport!”
He hisses the last word, his nose scrunching up as he shifts his hips back and forth, fighting his need as subtly as he can. His face grows red as a couple of his fans shoot him wary looks, trying to cover up his mistake with a wider-than-usual smile, and thanks whatever deity is out there when the photographer gives the all clear.
“Thanks,” the boy says, taking his phone back and heading for the exit. Fukase shoots a displeased glance at the back of his head before hurrying back to his seat. He leans over to his manager, who holds a finger up to the next girl in line.
“What is it, Fukase?” she asks in a whisper, meeting his gaze. “Something wrong?”
“Can we take a break for a minute?” Fukase asks, matching her quiet tone. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Is it an emergency?”
“Well… No,” he answers, opening and closing his legs ever so slightly. “I just-”
“Then no, we can’t,” his manager tells him, much to his dismay. “You’re going through the crowd much slower than usual today. Maybe those custom videos weren’t such a good idea.”
“But I need to-”
“Fukase,” she says sharply, “I’m serious. We have to get through this crowd as quickly as possible. Do you want to make the fans at the end of the line wait?”
“No, but-”
“No buts. Let me know when it’s an emergency. Until then, keep signing and posing, and smile, okay?”
“Ah… Okay,” Fukase sighs, running his lip between his teeth. Sure, it’s not an emergency just yet, but he really doesn’t think he can make it another two hours without some serious damage to his stage costume. But as tiring as these events can be, he doesn’t want to disappoint his fans, and he knows that making them wait while he goes to the bathroom would probably put them in a bad mood. So he resigns himself to his fate, crossing his legs once again as the next person in line is waved forward.
It feels like hours have gone by by the time the clock hits two, and yet Fukase can’t recall a single name he’d heard or a single thing he’d signed. At this point his focus is directed entirely to not leaking into his costume, and not dancing around wildly while he records his messages and takes photos with fans. He’s already gotten enough weird looks for taking too long to get to the photobooth and letting a few embarrassing sounds slip during conversation, and now that that last bottle of water has hit him, he can barely even tell what he’s saying to his fans anymore.
“Fukase-san?” the boy in front of him says, possibly for the second or third time. “Are you alright? You’re sweating.”
“S-Sorry,” Fukase replies shakily, wiping at his brow with an unsteady hand. “Hot in here. Uh, did you want to take a p-picture, too?”
“If you’re not feeling up to it, it’s alright,” the boy says sympathetically. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
“He’s feeling fine,” Fukase’s manager speaks up with a wave of her hand. “I’ll have the staff bring the temperature down.”
“Wait-” Fukase starts, but his manager is already heading for the door in search of a building manager. Shit! he thinks to himself, his whole body tensed and trembling. How am I supposed to take a break now?
“It’s really alright, Fukase-san,” the boy says understandingly. “You don’t need to strain yourself.”
“It’s, ah, fine,” Fukase assures him. Sure, he feels like he’s going to explode any minute now, and the only thing he can think about is the hot, pulsing need to piss, but he wants to do this. The boy had an old copy of his first ever album--he’s a true fan, and he deserves to be treated well.
He manages to stand and hobble over to the photobooth, though he’s bent at an odd angle the whole time. The boy stands next to him, glancing over with worry a couple of times, but he seems happy enough to get his picture taken. “Thank you so much!” he says with a smile as the photographer hands his phone back.
“Of c-course,” Fukase says with a strained smile, returning to his seat as quickly as he can. The minutes in between photos where he gets to sit down are doing wonders to keep his pants dry, but every time he has to stand back up it feels like his desperation doubles. He’s never had to go this bad in his life, he’s sure of it. As soon as his manager gets back, he’s making a break for it, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to make it another five minutes in the state he’s in.
He’s about to call the next girl up, but she bounds up to his table without prompting. As soon as Fukase sees her his heart sinks into his stomach, dread overtaking him. He knows exactly what kind of fan this girl is, and he’s not ready to deal with it.
“Fukase-chan, I love you so much!” the girl exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly. “OMG, I’m literally gonna die!”
“Please don’t,” Fukase says, his eyebrows drawing together in pain. He presses his thighs together and reaches under the table as subtly as he can, giving his dick a quick squeeze. (It barely helps at this point, but he has to do something to keep himself sane.)
“Can you write a special message on this?” the girl asks, setting down a large, glossy poster. “Write ‘Dear Hana, thank you for being the best fan in the world. Love, Fukase-chan’!”
Like hell I’m writing that! Fukase thinks, groaning in pain for more reasons than one. “Actually, we aaahh- aren’t doing special m-messages, ah, today,” he stammers. “Sorry.”
“Can’t you make an exception for me?” the girl asks, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly. “I paid a lot of money to be here, after all!”
“Fine,” Fukase snaps, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. He grabs a pen and uncaps it in a rush, scrawling the horrible, disgusting message across the bottom of the poster. It’ll be faster if you just go along, he thinks, still angry as he finishes writing. He stops short of calling himself “Fukase-chan”, though he’s almost distracted enough to write it.
“Eee!!” the girl squeals, jumping up and down. Fukase clenches his teeth, his hands fisted on top of the table as he shifts and shimmies his hips around the seat. God, he’s so close to giving up and bolting out of the room, though he’s not sure he’d even make it to the bathroom he’d seen earlier. No, he thinks, I have to make it! Just hold on a little bit longer, and then you’ll get your relief.
He feels a jet of pee shoot to the tip of his dick and gasps audibly as he slams his hands down on the table, crossing his legs and squeezing every muscle in his body to keep the piss from getting out. His face feels hot and damp, and his eyes are watering, and yet the girl in front of him is still painfully oblivious.
“Let’s take a picture, Fukase-chan!” she insists, grabbing one of his hands and pulling with all her might. Fukase gasps once again as he’s forced to his feet, his legs snapping together and bending at the knees as gravity pulls on his poor, overfilled bladder. No no no! he begs, hunching over and pressing his hand into his thigh, barely keeping himself from burying it in his crotch.
“Don’t be shy!” the girl insists, giving him another small tug. Fukase has no choice but to stumble after her as she drags him to the photobooth, physically shaking from the effort it’s taking to keep the ocean of piss from flooding his pants right then and there. He yanks his hand out of hers with a glare, though it’s weakened by his intense desperation.
“Ah, ah…” he pants as the girl hands her phone to the photographer. “Please, make it quick.”
“Oh, don’t worry, silly!” the girl exclaims, and to Fukase’s horror, she reaches out to wrap her arms around his middle and squeeze him tight.
The pressure against his bladder is absolute torture, an unbearable wave of desperation overtaking him as Hana squishes his abdomen. He lets out a strangled cry and breaks away from her hold, whipping around for some semblance of privacy and pawing desperately at his crotch until he gets a good hold of his dick. He squeezes his palm around the tip, but despite his iron grip, a long, hot spurt of piss dribbles out.
Fukase lets out a long, pained moan, stomping his feet on the ground and shaking his hips around as he tries to cut off the stream. It feels absolutely horrible to deny himself relief for a second longer, but he manages to stem the flow before it hits the floor.
“Fukase-chan, what’s wrong?” the girl asks, a hand reaching out to rub his back. Fukase jerks away from her touch, causing another spurt of piss to jet into his pants. His hands are covered in sticky, warm liquid, and he knows there’s a huge stain on his clothes, but he doesn’t even care anymore. All he cares about is getting to a bathroom asap, no matter what he has to do.
He breaks away from the girl, darting through the crowd with his hands buried between his legs, dribbles of piss escaping him every couple of steps. He hears gasps of shock and disgust all around him, but the crowd is too thick to tell where they’re coming from, and he doesn’t care either way.
He moves this way and that, trying his hardest to get to the main exit that leads to the hall with the bathrooms, but he’s not looking where he’s going, and before he knows it he’s running headfirst into a figure entering the room. Fukase stumbles backwards, the impact running through his whole body, just shocking enough to break his hold.
“Ah, ah! Ohhhh…” Fukase moans as warm, sticky urine floods his hands, running straight through his saturated pants and pattering onto the ground. His legs shake under him as he releases hours worth of piss, his head tipping back in pure and utter relief. It feels heavenly to let go after the stress of holding for so long, and yet he still feels the shame of wetting himself in front of his fans through it all…
Oh. Oh no.
Fukase’s eyes snap open, the sound of urine hitting urine deafening over the shocked silence of the crowd. His stomach sinks as he takes in the hundreds of pairs of eyes boring into him, but despite it all he can’t cut off his stream. No, he thinks, no no no! They can’t- I can’t- This can’t be happening!
At last, his stream tapers off, a few stray spurts fighting their way out before he’s finally empty. Every single person in the room is staring, and more than a few people have their phones out, recording the whole ordeal. He feels his face heat up in shame, and yet he’s completely frozen.
“Alright, clear the room,” his manager says, picking herself up from where he’d bumped into her on her way back. “Security, you’re on damage control. I need those videos deleted before they hit the internet. Fukase-san, let’s get you to the back room for some clean-up.”
Fukase snaps out of it, scurrying towards the back as fast as he can to avoid the eyes following him. His legs are cold and wet with aging piss, and he smells like a public restroom, and he’s sure that no matter what damage control security can do, the rumors will still spread like wildfire.
He covers his face with his piss-soaked hands and closes his eyes, hoping against hope that he’s just dreaming. But deep down, he knows that this is real, and that he’s never going to be able to live it down. This, he decides, angry tears springing to his eyes, was the worst meet and greet out of them all by far.
And that really is saying something.
#omorashi#male omorashi#male desperation#vocaloid omorashi#fukase omorashi#omocute#omorashi fanfic#op#fanfic#commissions
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josh peck’s relationship test
author’s note: i wrote this for myself, with my own name inserted, so it’s not super universal, but i’m sure you can make it work. i just love me some david, hope you do too.
summary: y/n and david film a relationship test with josh peck, then can’t keep their hands off each other in the tesla on the ride home :)
warnings: smut xoxo
“I already hate this,” I say, sitting next to Josh and tucking my feet under my legs.
Josh and David both look at me. “Why?” Josh asks, serious, looking expectant.
“Because now I can’t cuddle David,” I say, popping my voice up an octave and making puppy eyes at David.
Josh pouts his lip and David wracks with laughter, clapping his hands.
Jason’s on the other side of the room, behind the camera. “That’s an intro.”
As Josh scrolls through his notes, looking for the first question, I put my eyes on David.
“Hey,” I whisper seductively, loud enough for the camera. “You look so hot right now.”
“Whoa, Y/N,” Josh scolds, not looking up.
David ignores him, making his face go slack, copying my whisper. “I was just about to tell you the same thing, you steamy little slut.”
“David, ew–” Jason pipes, but I lean into it, sticking out my tongue and leaning towards him. We pull away, right before our mouths touch, both laughing, Josh still uncomfortable.
“We can go, if you guys want,” Jason jokes.
David pulls on Josh’s arm. “Yeah, that would be great, actually.”
At this point, I almost pee myself laughing, my hands covering my mouth.
“Can I please just ask you guys the questions?” Josh groans, still hamming up how uncomfortable he is.
“What’s David’s favorite food?”
“Oh, God. I have no idea,” I lean forward, staring into space, feeling both David and Josh watching me. “He posts about food so much. He loves so many different types of food…”
I pause for a second. “Actually, yeah. He doesn’t have one.”
Josh gives me a sad face. David cracks his gum, irritated. “Babe. Come on. Buffalo Wild Wings.”
“Oh, as if. You haven’t had B Dubs in months.”
“So?” David argues defensively. “It’s still my favorite.”
“Ugh, fucking– whatever.” I pretend to be mad.
“David?” Josh looks down at my boyfriend.
“Josh?” David mimics, leaning his head briefly on Josh’s shoulder.
“Who’s Y/N’s celebrity crush? Slash hall pass?”
“Jeff,” David jokes, turning to me.
“Stop,” I groan, flopping against the couch. “I hate this joke. It was a year ago!” David laughs at me, then composes his face as he stares into space to think for a second.
“Um– what’s his name– Noah something? Noah Centineo?”
I blow him a kiss. “Good guess, but no cigar, baby boy.”
David groans, then looks to Josh. “Who was it?”
“Harry Styles,” Josh tells him, pretending to look sad for him. David starts banging his head against the soft back of the couch.
“Stupid! Fuck!” he yells. “I knew that!”
Josh starts to ask me the next question before David stands up and throws a burst of dabs all in a row before sticking a whip at the end, hyping himself up. “Can’t! Miss! Another! Question!” he yells.
“Y/N, where did you and David first kiss?”
I smile, beginning to blush, and I watch David and his expression becomes almost the same, his cheeks flushing pink as he waits for me to answer.
“James Charles’ Tesla,” I whisper, almost not in the room because I’m remembering.
“It’s him,” Corinna taps me on the arm. “It’s David.”
“What? Where?” I whip around, almost spilling my drink.
Corinna laughs, but there he is, David Dobrik. There’s almost a glow about him, his big smile and laugh as people perform for his outstretched camera, people orbiting around him. The iPhone flashlight helps, too.
I inhale. “This is stupid. I feel like a dumb fangirl.”
Corinna shakes her head at me, rolling her eyes. “Y/N, it’s not like he doesn’t know who you are. You’ve been talking, he’s not just gonna not realize you’re here or not recognize you. You have green hair.”
I chew on my lip, still watching him. “You have a point.”
After a few moments, David stops recording. The flashlight is turned off. The people that have been clinging to his side starts to dissipate, and then he’s not David Dobrik. He’s just David.
“Okay,” I tell Corinna, downing the rest of my drink. “Fuck it.”
“Whoa, whoa,” she says, a bit of panic in her voice, catching my arm. “You sure you don’t want to make him come to you? Play hard to get?”
I pause, glancing at him. He still hasn’t realized I’m here. “Should I? I don’t really have the patience for that.”
“Y/N!”
I turn at the loud voice, and there’s James, a big smile on him as he comes toward us.
“James, thank you so much for having us,” Corinna reaches out to him first, hugging him. She starts gushing about his makeup, and I glance again at David, who has his eyes on me now. He must have heard James shout my name, and is moving through people, his floppy brown hair standing out as he snakes between the bodies.
“Hey,” he says, smiling broadly. “I thought that was you, greenie.”
“Hey,” I say back, smiling up at him, feeling the alcohol rush into a redness on my cheeks. Before I even decide to say it, I’m saying– “You know, you’re cuter than your hilarious DMs would indicate.”
But he leans back in laughter, his smile booming loudly. “I can’t tell if I should be flattered,” he tells me, close now so that I can hear him in the din of the party.
I’d almost forgotten that Corinna was distracting James until a long-nailed hand taps David on the shoulder.
“David!” James interjects, grabbing both of our shoulders. “Do you want to see my Tesla? It’s the new one.”
David’s face drops in total shock. “Yes. Absolutely,” he looks down at me again. “Come on. The new model is super cool.”
We follow James out of the crowded living room, through a side door and down stairs until we’re in a low-ceilinged garage with white walls and fluorescent lighting.
It’s a sleek navy blue, almost black, Tesla model 3.
James makes squealing noises. “And I got a custom license plate, too.”
I look down and see JAMESCH on a plate near the base of the car.
“Holy fuck,” David says, still flabbergasted. I look up at him. One of his hands is in his hair. “James, please let me sit in it.”
“Sure, sister,” James tosses him the keys, and David catches them with one hand. My girl brain makes my knees shiver slightly.
“Get in with me,” David murmurs down to me, still marveling at the car.
I chuckle. “Sure, Dave.”
When we climb into the car, David turns on his camera immediately and points it toward us. “Hi sisters!” he says, doing James’ signature wave.
I laugh, then hold up a peace sign, pretending to pose.
“So we’re in James Charles’ new Tesla Model 3 right now. And it’s– Y/N, what would you say it’s like?”
I raise my eyebrows, acting impressed, looking around the interior of the car. “It’s insane.”
“Insane,” David repeats. “I mean, this awesome screen. Look, he even named it Sistermobile.” David points to the screen behind the wheel. It does, in little white letters, say Sistermobile.
I laugh, leaning on the console to see. “I guess he has to stay on brand.”
He tilts the camera so it’s just pointing at me. “Plus, it comes with a hot girl.”
I laugh again, even harder, though I melt on the inside. “That’s absolutely right. I was designed by Elon Musk to work as a functioning backseat driver to go with every Tesla vehicle.”
He laughs, makes one or two more jokes, and then switches off the camera. “Where did they go?”
I look up. He’s right– we’re alone in the garage. James and Corinna are gone.
I turn back to face him. “Just us, I guess.”
“Finally.” He breaks into a big smile.
I mock a guffaw, leaning on the console. “Have you been wanting to get me alone, David Dobrik?”
“Absolutely.”
He’s leaning on the console now, too, his breath starting to fan across my face. I look up at him through my lashes. My blood feels like it’s beating inside my cheeks. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have ulterior motives.” It doesn’t come out as confident as I want it to.
He giggles slightly, and I can really feel it on my skin. I can feel the vibration of his words as he says, “Like what?”
He can’t stop looking at my lips, and I don’t think I can, either. “You tell me, you’re the one who obviously has them.”
“Let me think.”
I wait for his eyes to flicker down to my parted lips one more time, and then I close the distance between us. His mouth is warm and soft, and I quickly feel all my breath leaving me. Then his hand is in my hair, and his lip is between my teeth, and all too soon, the Tesla begins to honk.
We look up to see James holding the keys, standing with a hand on his hip, the sleeves of his SISTERS hoodie bunched up around his forearms.
David smiles. “That was a really nice moment.”
“Hey, David?” Josh turns to him, smiling. “What’s Y/N’s favorite movie?”
David claps his hands triumphantly. “Easy. Mr. & Mrs. Smith.”
I soften. “Aw, baby.”
He leans forward to look at me. “I know you, babygirl.”
“He knows you, babygirl,” Josh mimics, staring me down. “But it’s time for our lightning round.”
I lean forward, looking directly into the camera, totally focused. Out of the corner of my eye, I see David copy me, and I smirk a little.
“Y/N– David’s favorite salad dressing?”
“Ranch.” Next to Josh, David does a little yes, baby.
“Yes. David– Y/N’s favorite dessert?”
“Cheesecake.”
“Y/N– David would want Shawn Mendes or even more Shawn Mendes.”
I laugh. “More Shawn.”
David laughs, his voice thin and high. “I love him.”
“David– what bothers Y/N the most about your relationship?”
David throws up his hands, and at first, I panic. I almost hadn’t let Josh ask the question.
He surprises me. “This is so easy,” David looks at me, gesturing, completely forgetting that we were in a lightning round, clearly settling into a long answer. “So, Y/N is from California, and I’m from the Midwest, and for college she went to– you went to Iowa– Iowa?”
“Iowa City? The University of Iowa?” I fill in, unsure where he’s going.
“Yeah, the University of Iowa. Which is, like, the rival school of ISU, where I almost went. So, if I had gone to ISU, we would have been in the same state, and Iowa City, where Y/N went to school, is sort of, like, the place to be if you want to party,” David explains.
“A lot of frats,” I add, heartwarmed, realizing what he’s saying.
“So, if I’d decided to go to college at ISU, we totally could have met,” he makes eye contact with me. “And she hates thinking about that. She hates that we could have met earlier and we didn’t.”
I look at Josh, who looks almost as heartwarmed as I do. “So you guys were totally fated. One way or the other, you were gonna end up together.”
“No, actually, I made sure we ended up together,” I joke. “I moved to LA so I could find him and make him fall in love with me.”
Josh laughs, but David raises his eyebrows. “That’s not too far off, babe.” I slap his arm.
Josh guffaws a little, still thinking about the story. “You know, that’s not actually what she said, but that’s really–”
“Wait, what?” David looks at me, bewildered. “That’s not what you said?”
“No,” I laugh, covering my face. “I don’t want to say it now.”
David grabs my shoulder in mock anger. “Tell me!”
I giggle more and more, hardly able to talk. “It was– that– you don’t–”
David gives me a look, realizing what I mean. “That I always wear a condom?”
I nod, dying laughing. Josh looks incredibly uncomfortable again.
“I hate you.” David stands up, pretending to walk out of the room. I fall off the couch.
Josh turns to me, still laughing on the floor, then to David as he sits back down. “Why does he wear a condom? Why do you wear a condom?”
“To be fucking safe!”
I wheeze, sitting back up next to Josh. “For the record,” I look into the camera. “I am not trying to get pregnant so I can steal all of David’s money.”
“Sure, babe,” David interrupts, rolling his eyes and then flashing a big smile as we all laugh.
When we finished filming, Paige comes out with a sleeping Max and, smiling, says that we should probably go, so he can sleep. Whispering, we agree, and tiptoe over to Max to kiss him lightly on the forehead. David almost gets too distracted, his hands wandering to Max’s little socked feet, but I curl my hands around his waist and jostle him gently.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he whispers. “Just can’t get over him.”
“I need some alone time with Uncle David,” I whisper into his neck, a bit lower, just for him. Paige stifles a laugh as David whips immediately to me, drawn.
That’s mostly it. We whisper goodbye to Josh, hug Jason in the street. He gets into his car, and we get into David’s. I turn to him as the Tesla turns on, his left hand on the wheel and the right on my thigh, as usual.
“It’s really sweet that you remember that.”
“What? The Iowa thing?”
“Yeah.” I wrap my hands around his, interlacing our fingers.
He squeezes my hand, but gives me a sort of of-course-I-remember look.
“Of course I remember,” he tells me, pushing some of his curls out of his face. “You’ve talked about it enough that it would be bad if I didn’t.”
“Do you wish that was how we’d met? In Iowa? I feel weird that I don’t know, even though we’ve already talked about it.”
David sucks his teeth, thinking about his answer as he looks down at the backup camera. “Is it bad if I say no?”
I guffaw playfully. “Yes!”
“No, no, wait,” he backpedals. “Think about it. I would’ve been back and forth all the time, since you can’t drive, and that would have gotten super annoying for both of us. And having classes. And we would have been totally different people. What if Old David and Old Y/N didn’t like each other?”
I shiver. “I think about that sometimes. How we might not have fallen in love if we’d met at any other time.”
He squeezes my hand again. “Don’t think about it, love.”
He starts to pull his hand away, beginning to back out of his parking space, but I catch it before he can bring it to the wheel. He looks up at me expectantly, so I lean over the console and kiss him. His hand comes off the wheel to hold my face to his, while I loop my fingers into his shirt collar to bring him closer.
When he pulls away, my head spins. I feel like a teenager. I blink hard, and he chuckles at me.
“You’re so amazing,” he says softly, his thumb on my cheek. “My perfect girl.”
I tighten my grip on his shirt and pull him into me again.
When he pulls into his driveway, the lights are already on inside, and we can plainly see Natalie moving around in the living room, even from inside the Tesla. My mind immediately deflates from the somewhat flirty car ride over, his hand having teased my thigh the whole way. David sighs, mirroring my thoughts.
“I don’t want to have to talk to Natalie,” he mumbles.
“Neither do I,” I admit, looking at him. “Sorry, Natalie.”
“Can I– can I just–” I wait for him to finish, but instead he unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over the console to kiss me again, his hand crunching a fistful of my hair as he holds my lips to his. He breathes heavily into it, and I smirk slightly. I love the effect I have on him.
So I toe off my shoes and gracefully climb into his lap. His breath is against my mouth, my hands holding myself up by his chest. His hands move down, and start to slip up into my shorts. My mouth is on his neck then, biting and sucking under his ear and jaw.
“Y/N, no. You know the rules,” he scolds me, pulling me back lightly by my hair. He doesn’t let me leave marks on him.
But instead, I ignore him, leaning forward to nip into his jugular again.
“Y/N–“ He wants to scold me again, I can tell, but he’s hardening and moaning beneath me, so I don’t stop.
After a moment, he brings his hand up to my throat and pushes me away until I’m against the steering wheel. I arch, reaching up to hold his hand in place.
“You’re not listening tonight.”
I whine in response, needy, grinding my hips against his. “Baby,” I beg.
“What is it?” his fingers tighten around my throat.
“Please,” I wheeze, my eyes fogging looking at his smirk.
“Please, what?”
I hum out a whine again, because I don’t know what I’m asking for. I let my tongue fall out of my open mouth, and then his fingers are off my throat and buried into my mouth.
“God, your fucking mouth, Y/N. Your mouth.” It’s his turn to moan now, as I run my tongue over his fingers.
“Do you want my mouth?” I whisper to him, leaning forward to press my lips against his ear.
“No,” he tells me bluntly. “Take off your fucking hoodie.”
I wiggle to sit facing away from him, and swivel my hips as I pull the hoodie over my head and leave my shorts in a pile next to the brake.
He grips my ass as I raise to straddle him again, but he’s pushing me forward, bending me over the wheel and pulling me apart with his thumbs.
“Fuck,” he praises, still holding my pussy open for him to admire, and then his fingers are deep inside me, curling and writhing.
“David!” I call back to him, feeling him screwing with my soft g-spot. I’m about to start fucking myself on his fingers when his mouth is wrapped around my clit.
I yelp in surprise. He sucks and licks as he fingers my g-spot and kneads my ass.
“David– David–” I moan out. He smiles against me, biting my clit lightly before he starts to suck and lick it in earnest, a pearl of flavor he’s been craving.
The pleasure shoots through me like daggers. It’s winding and twisting like roots, radiating from where David’s mouth moves hungrier and hungrier against me.
I’m about to cum when he stops. I whip around angrily, when I see him leaning his chair back as far as it will go.
He pulls on my thighs. “Bring it to me.”
I almost don’t know what he means, but then I realize that he can’t look at me, that his eyes are trained on my dripping pussy, his tongue out of his mouth.
I smirk and reach down to recline his seat the rest of the way.
My breath comes out in pants, in the passenger side now with my legs draped over him, completely naked. David’s cock is partially exposed, him panting too, his hoodie discarded in the backseat.
“That was incredible,” he wheezes.
I poke him with my toe. My skin in covered in a sheen of sweat. “One of our best.”
“We’re gonna end up telling our grandchildren about that.”
“Christ, that’s gross.”
David laughs, then turns his head to look at me. He has serious sex hair. “Hey. Come here.”
“I just ‘come here’-ed for about twenty-five minutes.”
He makes a kissy face, so I lean forward and let my lips touch his.
It’s incredibly chaste, even with my lack of clothes and David’s cock so close to me. They’re little pecks, loving and clean and innocent.
“David,” I say, leaning my forehead against his. “I love you.”
His hand comes up to my neck, holding me in place. “I love you more.”
#david dobrik#david dobrik smut#david dobrik x reader#david dobrik x y/n#jason nash#josh peck#vlog squad#jeff wittek#jeff wittek smut#vlog squad smut#youtube#youtuber#youtuber smut#david dobrik owns me
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How To Torture Your Heroes
Summary: Demencia and Clem teach the gross cockroaches of the world how to properly obtain and torture your enemy better than some nerdboy could!
Words: 2,454
Characters: Demencia, Flug, Clemencia, and Black Hat (briefly)
Warnings: A bit of torture, but nothing too bad.
I had too much fun with this
Demencia sat at the metallic table with her arms crossed and glaring at the shaking Cam-Bot and Flug, who was clearly smirking underneath his bag. She just narrowed her eyes at him, while, at the same time, erratic noises and lights that were going on beside her. She then slowly glanced over to her side at seeing Clemencia strapped up in a chair, wrapped in a straitjacket, and her mouth covered by a mask. The unicorn witch was currently vibrating in the chair, hearts in her eyes changing various of colors, and her powers were sparking from her horn. She was also making many high-pitched squeaking sounds and they only became louder the moment Dem’s eyes were on her.
Demencia’s stare went back to Flug, who was setting up Cam-Bot and ordering, “Alright, remember that Black Hat wants you to do this. Honestly, I wouldn’t care and the only commercials I would have you do is one for rabies vaccinations or one where we send you off to space.”
Flug was expecting Demencia to make a “witty” comeback like her becoming queen of the moon-people or something that idiotically implausible, but she just kept glaring at him. He just rolled his eyes and then looked as Cam-Bot’s recording light come on, saying, while holding up cards for her to speak off of, “Okay, Cam-Bot is recording. Go, Demencia.”
Demencia narrowed her eyes further at him before speaking in an even, annoyed tone, “Welcome, you bottom feeders, are you sick and tired of using the same old methods to capture and torture heroes? Do they always get away from your clutches? Always stealing your shit-” “Demencia, stick to the cards.” “Ugh! Always stealing your equipment,” she mocked in an obnoxiously nerdy voice by plugging her nose and then continued, “and leaving a mess everywhere? Then, fear not, for- this is so fucking stupid! Couldn’t you at least have tried to make the script sound like me, instead of your disgusting, lameass nerd language!?”
Flug pinched at where the bridge of his nose would be and then spoke in a professional manner, “You know, I really did try to, Demencia. However, you must understand that it is quite difficult to translate caveman speak to our natural, everyday colloquialism.”
Dem slammed her hands down on the table and shouted at him, “Say that to my face, punching bag!”
“You’re literally a few feet in front of me! How is this not saying it to your fa-” “Because it isn’t, chicken shit! If you were brave enough, you would say it right here, instead of-” The two began bickering over one another. Flug giving out the most intellectual disses the world has ever known, while Demencia resorted to “colorful” language, gory descriptions of Flug’s demise, and the occasional, never defeated “bleh bleh bleh” method.
Meanwhile, Clem watched the two fight amongst one another like a child watching their parents argue. She casually shimmied out of her straitjacket, unbuckled the straps, and took off the mask. Skipping over to Flug, she looked down at the cards in his hands and asked, “Can I see those?”
“Yeah, sure,” Flug said absentmindedly, as he just went back to quarreling with Demencia like the goof that he is. Clemencia just went back to her seat and sat down, reading over the cue cards. Cam-Bot turned off its recording for a few seconds to look in-between the two villains and shook its ‘head’, wondering how it hasn’t short-circuited from all this madness. The only thing that was able to break them out of their squabble was Clemencia shouting, “Whaaaaaat!? Dangle them over hydrochloric acid? Painful injections? Lead them to you with what they love? What is this absolute crap? I thought you were supposed to be the best in the business, Flug!”
Flug immediately put a hand to his chest, feeling absolutely offended, while Demencia snatched at the cards and started reading them over. The scientist shouted, “Okay, listen here you randomly generated Tumblr OC, I don’t need someone like you telling me that-”
“I'm gonna stop you right there because you clearly do! None of this would truly work! It's, dare I say, old hat! I mean, who dangles people over acid anymore?” Clemencia asked, while Demencia finished reading and winced, “As much as I hate to agree with sparkles over here, I think she's got a point.”
Flug crossed his arms, scoffing and sputtering, before taking a deep breath and giving in, “You know what? Fine! I'll let you both take over, see how well you do, but I'm not gonna be responsible for how Black Hat reacts!”
The two multicolored women weren't even listening to him, as the two were writing down suggestions and even making some pictures on their garbage writ- er…“script”. Clemencia then pulled down a large, long projection screen out of nowhere and the two hid behind the screen. Clem whispered, “Aaaaaaaannnndddd...action!”
Cam-Bot just shook its head and then rewound the footage before starting it back up again. Suddenly, an image of a half lizard and half unicorn skull crying out rainbows in front of heart that had nails all over it appeared on the screen. The two magically poofed in front of the screen. Demencia was holding a bloodied baseball bat that had nails all over it and Clemencia held a pink and gold axe that had hearts within the blade and pink bows along the handle. Flug groaned, as he sat down with a mug in his hand that...possibly held coffee, “Oh boy.”
Demencia greeted, “Welcome, you gross boils of the underworld, it's your ruthless, badass Demencia to teach you scrubs about how to truly capture and torture your victims, whether they be a hero or a disgusting, useless, sidekick, nerdboy!”
Flug gave loud sigh, but didn't say anything. The lizard woman pointed to Clemencia and introduced, “And who better to check over such methods than with- Gah!”
Clemencia suddenly brought her into a spine-crushing hug and lifted her off of the ground, exclaiming, “Than with her no-as-equally-but-pretty-dang-close-at-least-hope-so-or-I’ll-cry-in-the-tub-again-tonight gorgeous girlfriend, Clemencia!”
Dem growled, as she hit her over head with the bat, “I'm not your girlfriend, dumb broad!”
Each hit that she made just made a squeaky toy noise. Flug blinked at the both of them and then cleared his throat. The two stared at him before going back to their normal poses and Dem went on like nothing happened, “Than with this horrible excuse of a hero over here!”
The unicorn witch smiled and giggled, while her horn made random sparks of pink magic. The screen then changed while Dem continued, “Now, some idiots would give you stupid little ideas that you can lead your victim by using things that they love,” a drawing of Clemencia had her being led to a trap by a Demencia doll on a string, “or being hung over acid,” another image of Clem being hung over acid that she just changed into jello with a confused, smelly Flug, “or, even lamer, with injections,” and then the final was another Flug with the words “gross nerd” over his head poking a confused hero in the eye with a syringe.
Clemencia then quickly added in, “Well, I never thought they were lame or anything, just that I know you can do it a bit better with that big boy brain of yours, Fluggy~!”
Flug corrected, “That’s Dr. Flug Slys to you.”
“Ya got it, Flug-bug!” Clemencia smiled with a cute little wink afterwards, making Flug just take bigger gulps of his “coffee”. Demencia put a finger to her mouth, fake gagging, and asked in an annoyed tone, “Are you two done being weird?”
Clem mumbled, looking slightly concerned, “...I-I was being…” and then a fully forced smile came across her face and she said cheerfully, “Yes, I am, my wonderful savior! ...Um,” she then levitated Flug’s mug to herself, grabbed it, and then tossed it right into his face with a blank expression. The mug spilt all over Flug upon impact and he fell back with a loud thud, shouting, “WHYYYYY!?”
Demencia blinked at the whole and then went back to the commercial, “Anyway, a little help from Dem and Clem will get your ass back in line with these three easy options! Number one: Don’t go for all that complicated garbage! Your own body should be plenty to attract those dumb heroes.”
The image on the screen changed to a drawing of a hero cornering Demencia in an alleyway, while she was wearing chainmail armor lingerie that had a the Black Hat logo on her panties. Clemencia’s eyes turned into hearts, despite one of them twitching at the “dumb heroes” comment, and added in, “Which should be plenty easy, if you’re as sexy as Demencia! However, if you’re not- which a good majority of you aren’t -then this second option is for you! Number two: As much as we heroes love kicking your butts from here to Atreno City,” a Clem drawing had her kicking villains, while they’re curled up on the ground, like Flamme, Mother Poltergeist, Mawrasite, and, of course, Flug, “there’s nothing we love more than peaceful agreements.”
Next was a copy-and-pasted picture of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but they had a bunch of villains’ and heroes’ faces drawn poorly over all the political figures’ faces with Clem and Dem sharing Thomas Jefferson’s face. The actual document was scribbled with Demencia’s crayon and Clemencia’s sparkly marker writing that read: “Blah blah blah,” “Dem for president,” “Clem was here <3,” and a signature “Flug the virgin.” Clemencia went on, “However, we also have a high sense of smell to know when there's bullshit afoot, so try to at least seem a bit more genuine than what you’re actually doing,” a picture of an annoyed Vanity appeared at a dinner table with Dark Phantom in a suit, who was looking extremely nervous and holding a ray gun behind his back.
Demencia then said, “And, finally, the torture! The fun part! Now that you’ve clearly used the first method to capture your foe because the second one is for complete morons-”
Clemencia shifted on her and chuckled nervously, “Heehee...right…”
The lizard hybrid then went on, “The best way that you can torture your hero is by causing them the slowest amount of pain possible and that their screams are filling your entire lair!”
The image on the screen showed a hero tied up to a chair, looking absolutely terrified, while Demencia was doing various tactics on them like using thumb-screws to drill through their fingers, using a red hot iron rod to brand their skin, or reading bad fanfiction. All the while the hero seemed to be in extreme anguish. Demencia then added, “However, if the hero is somehow resilient, you can also do the same to the sidekick or family,” the drawings changed to her doing the same to those people, instead of the hero.
“Whichever one you do, the hero should be able to do whatever you wish after a whole 24 hours of torture, but if you’re as good as me, you’ll have it done in less than 30 minutes. Heroes are absolutely traumatized afterwards though, so make sure to throw them out afterwards,” drawing Dem was throwing the hero into the incinerator, “Although, that may be hard because most heroes are stupid and useless already to begin with. Right, Clemencia? ….Right!?”
…
Dem growled as she sharply turned to her, only to stop at seeing Clem holding onto herself and also shivering. Clemencia started tearing up and she stuttered, “I-I’m...I’m n-not useless….o-or….stupid...r-right?”
The lizard hybrid just bit her lip and looked away, causing Clem to whimper and then teleport out of there. Right as soon as she did, Flug came back into the lab, holding a cloth covered ice pack on his bagged face, and asked, looking around, “Hey, where did the poster child for insulin shots go to?”
He then noticed Demencia looking somewhat saddened and guilty, as if she made a mistake. Flug was about to reach out to her and ask if she was alright, but then suddenly the projector caught alight by red flames, as Black Hat rose from the flames. His eye completely black with a red, slitted pupil and his form shifting and changing as eyes, mouths, and tentacles appeared. The tentacles squeezed around the two, strangling them, and Cam-Bot quickly ran out out of there before it got taken. Black snarled at the two, “What is going on here!?”
Demencia made a stupid comment about Black Hat always taking her breath away, while Flug made his famous dying seal squeaks.
At White Hat’s manor, as the moon was rising, Clemencia hung half her torso off of the balcony connected to her room, sighing at all that Demencia said and wondering where exactly she went wrong. She messed with the bow on her ponytail, while her unicorn hoodie’s eyes started tearing up. She mumbled to herself, “Maybe I’m just too bubbly at times...and I doubt myself too much...and...I eat too much cake! Ugh! I need to change my ways! I need to get tough and more wild like Demmie!”
She then lifted up her body back up to the top and the moment that she did, she felt lips press against her cheek, as well as catching the scent of roses, spray paint, and raw meat. Clem summoned a large mallet and shouted, “How dare you steal Demencia’s scent!?”
She then looked around and saw nobody there, but did see a note placed onto the railing of the balcony. She tilted her head as she placed the mallet back into her hair and grabbed onto the note to see what it said: “I wasn’t talking about you being useless or anything like that, dum-dum! You’re pretty...alright. I just gotta keep up an image, ya know? Now stop being so emotional or else I’ll have to cuddle you! >:3c”
Clemencia blinked at the letter before her eyes turned into hearts and a dopey smile grew across her face, while hugging the paper close to her chest. Yeah, it wasn’t anything all that poetic, but it was absolutely beautiful in her eyes. She then looked down at at her balcony and noticed some red and green paint that was on the railing of where the note was. She turned the note around and saw red and green painted words that read: “By the way, got ya a surprise! Turn around!”
The unicorn witch spun around with a bright smile and saw a bomb with “Dem waz here” spray-painted onto it, making Clem coo, “Awwww, Demmie!!!”
I’ll probably make some fanfic about the other two...uh...*looks at hand* Shite Bat and Plug
#villainous#villainous fic#villainous au#heroic#heroic au#villainos#villanos#vilainos#vilanos#clemencia#clementia#demencia#dementia#kenning flugslys#flug slys#flug#dr flug#black hat#fanfiction#writing#writers on tumblr#my writing#pastel punk
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Lost Stars Part 1
Post John Wick 3: Parabellum.
SPOILERS
@lvngdvns
“We can’t do this by ourselves.”
“I don’t intend on it.” The Bowery King stands tall despite his injuries, looking down on John Wick, the boogeyman, somehow still alive. Maybe it’s skill, or dumb luck, or perhaps he’s just too damn stubborn to die. Either way, he’s alive, and the Bowery King intends on making use of him in this fight for revenge. Him, and his connections.
“Aurelio gave this to me. She gave it to him at her father’s funeral. He gave it to me just before you went excommunicado. She designs weapons now. She left the business ages ago, but she stays in through a third party to keep selling her designs.”
The envelope he holds is old school, wax sealed, with words written on the front in bold, red script.
When John does something stupid, open me
John tenses, taking the envelope from him and carefully opening it. Inside is a piece of cardstock with an address written on it, a key with a number on it, and a pass to enter a storage facility. There is no personalized letter, no signature. To anyone else, it might even appear emotionless. However, John knows the truth. John could see that the action itself was the emotion. This was a woman with whom he had had a toxic relationship, and since he had left her, he had killed her brother and her father. After Viggo’s funeral, he received a letter stating her intention to avoid any sort of feud. Giving him condolences, expressing she's glad he got to experience Helen's love and hopes he appreciates how much of a gift that was, and saying she hopes he finds peace after this. The letter was without return address, or any evidence of where it came from.
There had always been a space in his heart that she had lived in, and that she would never leave. She was the first woman he ever felt for, though he hadn’t realized it was love until it was far too late. He hadn’t had a chance to go looking for her since he received the letter, and he wasn’t sure how welcome he would be if he did. But now? Her reaching out with this olive branch was a good sign at very least.
With her, this might even be possible.
Mischa Tarasov, the eldest of the Tarasov children, had always been everything her father wished. She was brilliant, with a keen mind for business, strategy and tactical defense. She was charming, a brilliant liar, and able to think on her feet. She spoke multiple languages, had been tutored in tactics since she was a child, and had been taught varying forms of self-defence since she was a toddler. Ballet, gymnastics and acrobatics had rounded out her training, giving her versatility and instilling an almost unhealthy work ethic in her. She was everything her brother wasn’t; driven, focused, able to lead or follow in any given situation. Mischa could take a punch, could endure torture, and could inflict it effectively. She was everything that Viggo wanted, and she had loved her brother with all of her heart despite his rampant stupidity and short-sightedness.
When she left the Russian mob, it was not because she didn’t love her family. She left the life because she wanted to be Mischa instead of Mischa Tarasov. That began with continuing her ballet training, leading her to find an apartment of her own. She got a roommate to help keep herself afloat, despite the money she had. She wanted to save it, in case of emergency. Which is how she met Mallory, and by extension, Duncan. Mallory was everything Mischa could have wanted from a roommate, and her boyfriend Duncan was just as amazing. Of course, that was after Mischa had a serious conversation with Duncan about knowing he was the Black Kaiser and how she knew how to kill him if he hurt Mallory. Mischa struggled with relationships, primarily because she didn’t want attachments, and because she didn’t trust easily.
Mallory frequently found herself concerned with Mischa’s stress level, and that led to her badgering her constantly. Which led to Duncan intervening on Mischa’s behalf. That led to Mallory and Duncan catching each other admiring Mischa’s ass as she bent to pick up some clothes from the floor in her room while wearing a sundress that barely covered her. After a frank conversation, Mal and Duncan agreed to approach Mischa separately before going together.
One night while Duncan was out of town, Mallory approached Mischa while she was bathing after ballet practice. She started easy, rubbing Mischa’s ankles and calves, then moving up to rub her shoulders. Mischa questioned it soon enough, and Mal assured her that Duncan was okay with this. Mischa leaned into her touch after that, dragging Mal into the bath with her without much more thought to it. Mal ended up taking the lead, and after fingering Mischa in the bath for a bit, the girls ended up in Mallory’s bed. Mal tugged Mischa into a top-and-tail position, giving her little chance to breathe before she began to work her open with her fingers.
It took a couple of days before Mallory was off overnight for work, and before she left, she stole a couple of kisses from Duncan and told him to have fun. Mischa overheard that from the kitchen and furrowed her brows, cracking open a beer. Just over an hour later, Duncan had Mischa lazily slumped against him while they watched a film, playing with her hair. He was hard from anticipation, and he didn’t see much point in dancing around the point, so he gently tilted her head back so she was looking at him.
“Ya hotela tebya ves’ den’.” Duncan murmured, watching Mischa’s pupils dilate and her lips part. (Translation: I’ve wanted you all day)
“Duncan… Mallory-“
“She knows. She wants it. Just like I wanted her to play with you.” Duncan promised, skimming his hands over her hips. When Mischa nodded, he lifted her easily, setting her on the kitchen table. Once her jeans were off, he pulled her underwear to the side and slipped on a condom, then began to slowly press into her. By the time Mallory returned the following morning, Mischa was blissed out in bed with bruises covering her hips and thighs while Duncan sleepily made breakfast. It became a thing after that. Odd as it may sound, Mischa became a part of their relationship. If Mallory or Duncan were gone, the other would usually turn to Mischa for affection. When they were together, Mischa was a bit of an outlet for both of them. All the while Mischa was able to get the affection and sex that she needed while never feeling trapped by the relationship.
Duncan told Mallory about his background, so Mischa came clean as well. Duncan helped Mischa get some contact with the underground again and assisted her with transporting her designs and retrieving payment. When Mallory decided to move in with Duncan, Mischa was sad to lose her roommate, but the pair invited her to live with them not long after. Their triad was comfortable, and there wasn’t much point in separating if they didn’t have a reason.
It continued like this for some time. Mallory and Duncan comforted her when John got married, though she absolutely refused to admit she cared. Mallory insisted she had stunted emotional growth, but Duncan would just remind her how Mischa grew up and it would once again become clear why. The day after the wedding, Mischa admitted she was happy for John, as he finally would get to experience a life on the outside. To love, and be loved, as he deserved. It hurt, but Mischa was used to pain and had enough distance from John to adjust quickly.
Learning of his wife’s death was difficult, and the events that followed regarding her brother and father made her want to lash out, but she wasn’t sure if she was more upset with John or her own family. In the end, she stayed out of it and simply waited until she got the call from Uncle Abram through Duncan to assist with the funerals. She was paid out her entire inheritance, as well as Iosef’s, and she put them in the bank, then gave Aurelio a letter at the funeral and went home. She didn’t leave her room for a week after the funerals, and once she came out, it was to go to an appointment for tattoos.
She had a collection of mob related tattoos, including 8-point stars just below her collarbones and an intricate cross on her ribs. Tarasov was tattooed on her shoulder blades in big letters, and she had a lioness rampant on her lower back on the left side. After her latest appointment, she returned with a tattoo of Iosef’s birthday on her wrist, Viggo’s name on the inside of her upper right arm, and two Xs behind her right ear. MS and DV had been tattooed behind her left ear for years, one of her only non-mob related tattoos. She also carried John’s initials carved into her inner thigh from when she had been his.
After getting her tattoos, Mischa readjusted to normal life in the healthiest way she could – by getting Duncan and Mallory to hurt her. Duncan taught Mallory how to use Mischa’s stiletto knife to cut lines into her hips that would heal with minimal to no scarring. He helped Mallory tie Mischa into intricate poses that strained her muscles even with her ballet training, and left her in them until she tapped out or he decided that any more would do serious damage. Usually the latter, considering the stubborn set of Mischa’s chin. Duncan fucked her hard enough to make every movement ache, and Mal helped force her to cum over and over again until she begged them to stop. Mallory practiced asphyxiation under Duncan’s watchful eye, and the two spent a day edging Mischa until she sobbed, broken and defeated. After five days of this with only the most basic aftercare allowed by the stubborn Russian woman, Mischa clutched the two of them to her and allowed them in. They showered her in love, each in their own unique ways, and things finally went back to normal.
They stayed good for a while, until Mischa’s phone dinged one day with an alert telling her that someone had just entered her emergency storage shed.
She lays behind Mallory, curled around her while she laid half on Duncan, watching the security cameras to catch a glimpse of John. The pang she felt when she saw him again showed on her face, clearly, because Mallory steals her phone to take a look. She sighs.
“You weren’t kidding, Misch. He’s handsome.”
Duncan chuckles, leaning over to look despite knowing full well what John Wick looks like. They watch as he searches through the storage shed, finding each hidden shelf and drawer like they were labelled for him. She supposed in a way they were, since he had shown her a lot of the techniques she had used. After finding the address she had left for him for their new home, he uses one of the bags she’d left to load up on weapons, ammo, body armour and gold coins, then grabs the bag of essentials she’d left under her desk and heads out.
“He won’t take long to get here.” Mischa informs them quietly, looking unsure of whether she was happy or sad about that, “I won’t drag you guys into this, I promise. I don’t know if I’ll see you again, but my will is under the floorboards in my room. It’s valid, but someone might try to change the contents, so I’ll leave you guys with the original copy.”
“Mischa, stop it.” Mallory insists, snuggling closer to her.
“No, Mal, I’m serious. There’s every chance I won’t come back. I’m going to try not to die, but I can’t promise I won’t.” Mischa looks up at Duncan, and he sighs softly, leaning over to kiss her passionately. It is a goodbye kiss, and Mischa loves him for giving that to her. Just in case.
Mallory notices the energy in the room, and after a moment of observing Duncan, she pins Mischa to the bed and kisses her hard. It is its own kind of goodbye kiss – the kind of kiss you give someone instead of saying ‘damn you for leaving’. Mischa presses her forehead against Mal’s once they part, just breathing her in and enjoying her last hours with them.
“Look after her, Duncan. If you guys have kids, you better name it after me.” Mischa teases, smiling at Duncan’s snort. She snuggles in between them, relishing in their affection while she still has it. Soaking it in like warmth on a cold night.
Neither of them ask if she really has to go. They know the answer.
#john wick#spoilers for parabellum#john wick/oc#john wick/original character#duncan vizla/oc#duncan vizla#polar#oc/duncan vizla/oc
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Witch Hazel- Pt.1
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff
Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: none
Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?
A/N: after a million years, it’s finally here guys! my first jeon jungkook series :’)
“For homework this weekend, I want you all to sketch a self-portrait. It can be realistic or abstract, but just make sure it still represents you,” your professor says before dismissing class.
As you shove your sketchbook into your bag and pick up your guitar case, you hear one of your loud classmates, Kim Taehyung, talking with his friend who’s always so quiet in class that you don’t actually know what the fuck his name is. All you know is that he only ever wears oversized hoodies.
“Psst, Jungkook. Wanna draw my face for me?” Taehyung makes a flower pose with his handsome face.
“What’s in it for me?” Hoodie Boy throws his eraser at Taehyung to make him stop, perhaps out of secondhand embarrassment. You snicker silently to yourself as you pass by them to exit the room, but not before they mention something that triggers you.
“I’ll pay for your ticket tonight.”
“And tomorrow night, too, lol.”
“Bitch, I’m not even going to tomorrow’s concert.”
“Then I guess you have time to draw your own face~”
“Wait, Jungkook. I’m busy tomorrow. Really. I have a date, remember?” Taehyung is basically pleading for his life at this point, and you can’t really blame him. Out of the entire class, he’s the only other non-art major besides you, so his drawing abilities are almost as shitty as yours. “And besides, we both know you could spend five minutes on the assignment and it’ll still look better than if I spent an hour on it.”
“Fine,” Hoodie Boy sighs. “I’ll take a ticket to tonight’s concert and a signed album instead. Thanks in advance.”
“Deal… I just don’t understand how you can be so whipped for an idol like Snow. She might have a nice body and a pretty face, but her personality is the worst. Even worse than Y/N’s,” Taehyung spins around to wave at you. “Right?”
“Ew, don’t compare me to her, Tae.” You give him an unimpressed face. The boy literally talks to everyone as if they’re his friend, and it kind of pisses you off.
“But you agree she has a shitty attitude, yeah?”
You notice Hoodie Boy is keeping a close ear out for your opinion on his supposed favorite idol. He accidentally makes eye contact with you for half a second before flailing around to gather his shit into his camo backpack. Were you really that intimidating to make those around you so flustered?
“Her shitty attitude isn’t the problem,” you hum as you walk away before they can bother you some more.
When you arrive home, you only have half an hour before you have to head out again. After tossing your bag and guitar case off to the side, you slip into slightly more fashionable clothes and break out your makeup bag. A quick layering of shadows, winged liner, and falsies paired with contouring and rose lip tint is enough for you to transform out of your barefaced college kid self. With a mask and your signature icy blue lens, you leave once more.
-
“You’re late, again,” your manager, Kim Seokjin, only sighs as you casually walk into backstage with a nonfat latte in hand. “I’m the one who’s going to be fired if you keep showing up late for soundcheck, Y/N.”
“It’s not my fault, Jin.” You pass your latte over to your cranky manager, who’s long overdue for another caffeine fix. He takes a sip, still glaring at you. “I was held up after class by two cute boys~”
“Cute boys? Y/N, you know you’re not supposed to be-”
“I know, I know. I’m just fucking with you,” you shrug. “All they did was ask me about Snow’s shitty personality. Oh, and apparently they’re coming to the concert tonight.”
“Don’t let them recognize you.” Seokjin finally hands you back your latte after chugging down half of it.
“I’m sure they would’ve said something months ago if they recognized me in class, Jin…” No one at school knows you’re an idol. As a matter of fact, no one in the world is aware that you, Y/N, are the idol with a cold piercing gaze and an even colder personality, Snow. No one except Seokjin, of course. He’s the only one you trust enough. “Besides, taking that art class has improved my makeup disguising skills, so don’t worry~”
“Well speaking of cute boys attending your concert, there are a few other idols that’ll be coming as well, so be careful.”
“Great, because all we need is another dumb dating rumor to get out of hand.” You’ve already experienced far too many of those in your short idol career. As an idol equally looked up to as you are frowned down upon, you’re pretty much at the center of every rumor or scandal. And it fucking sucks.
“Just try to stay positive about it, and don’t put yourself in a situation that the media can take advantage of, okay?” Seokjin has a worried look in his eyes—not for his own sake, but for yours. It’s his genuine tenderness and concern for you that keep you from walking away.
“Okay…”
The concert goes as usual. There are no technical difficulties, your vocals are on point, and nothing scandalous happens on stage. But at what cost?
Fan engagement is always kept at a minimum—the most fanservice you can offer is a split second of eye contact while you’re singing. You often wonder why anyone would want to see you perform live when there’s an invisible yet obvious wall standing between the stage and the audience. Like Seokjin advised, your company is doing what they can to ensure that their loose cannon idol stays out of any potential problematic situations.
But this distance doesn’t simply go away after your concerts. If it did, you wouldn’t be known as the Ice Queen, and your personal life wouldn’t be such a mystery to everyone. And for that, you cannot even put the full blame on the strict rules of your company. A large part of you appreciates the privacy that comes with this distance. Even if it is a little selfish and unfair to those who only wish to support you and your music.
As your concert comes to a close, you’re finally given the opportunity to address the dedicated fans who came out to see your performance.
“Thank you for coming tonight.” I’m sorry if it feels like you’ve wasted your money and time.
“A lot of you might be busy with school and studying right now, but you still made time for me.” I know because I too am a student.
“That means a lot, even to an Ice Queen.” I know what my reputation is, but please remember I’m human as well. I’m really grateful even if my resting bitch face doesn’t reflect that.
“Let’s meet again next time.” Next time, I’ll try to show a better version of Snow.
“Good night, everyone. Please get home safely~” I hope I was able to make you guys smile at least a little bit.
On your way out, you do your best to avoid both the media and the crowd. If you’re quick enough, you’ll be able to make it home in peace. Tonight is not that night, however.
You don’t even get outside of the venue before you see two familiar faces from class sitting on the stairs near one of the exits: Taehyung and Hoodie Boy. This is exactly why you never take off your makeup or lens until after you’re home where you don’t have to face anyone.
Of course it’s the loud one who approaches you. Hoodie Boy stays put on the stairs and watches from afar. You give them a halfhearted wave in hopes that that’s all they want, but of course it’s not.
“My friend is a huge fan of yours, Snow,” Taehyung lowkey pointed his thumb back at Hoodie Boy. He pulled out a copy of your latest album and a black sharpie. “Of course I love your music too, but would it be alright for me to get an autograph for him? He said he didn’t want to bother you himself.”
Usually you’d refuse. Whenever people say their “friend” is a fan, you get the impression that they’re just too ashamed to identify themselves as a fan of you. Like they don’t want to be associated with the kind of idol that you are.
But you’re certain that Taehyung is telling the truth since you heard that same promise being made earlier in class. And you know how shy Hoodie Boy is. So just this once, you’ll allow it.
You take the boy’s album and pen. “What’s your friend’s name?” You want to know, not only so you could write his name out, but also so you could stop calling him Hoodie Boy.
“Taehyung,” he says in a rather hushed voice.
“Taehyung?” That asshole. You glance over at Hoodie Boy just for a second. He’s busy taking pictures on his phone—not of you, but of the now empty venue. You feel bad, but there’s not much you can do besides sign the album to “Taehyung”. As you hand back the album, an idea pops up, “May I ask what your name is?”
“Me? Uhh-” You catch Taehyung off guard. “It’s Jungkook.” The name sounds familiar to you.
You nod and pull out a spare album from your bag to sign for Jungkook. You even decide to get a little fancy and draw a cute heart next to his name, just to spite Taehyung. “Here,” you say, looking back at the real Jungkook once more, only to find that yet another unwanted visitor had appeared. In moments like this, you question your decision to become an idol despite hating the attention.
Quickly you shoo away your classmates before the media shows up. You wouldn't want there to be another “misunderstanding”. The other boy now approaching you is already more than you’d prefer.
With his bleached ash blonde hair and an expensive yet casual fashion, you recognize him as fellow idol, Park Jimin, aka Korea’s Sweetheart. If you’re the devil, he’s most certainly an angel.
You’ve never spoken to the boy, but you’ve seen him at music shows plenty of times and have even competed against him for several awards. The two of you are “rivals”, or at least that’s how the media loves to phrase it. To you, there is no such rivalry; it’s clear that Jimin is the likable one. Your name is only ever placed next to his to generate newsworthy content.
“Is it really a good idea to visit your rival at her concert?” You don’t know how else to welcome the unwelcomed idol.
“It’s always good to scout out the competition,” Jimin shrugs, going along with your unfriendly greeting. “But for real, the concert was a lot of fun.” He glows with sparkles in his eyes. You can’t deny he has the most gorgeous smile.
“I’m glad…” It’s reassuring to hear compliments, especially from a fellow idol. But at the same time, you know Korea’s Sweetheart would never say anything rude—even if he feels differently. He’s perfect, after all.
“Anyway, I heard from the boy in the black hoodie that you’re handing out free autographs?” Jimin tries to point back at Jungkook, but he and Taehyung have already vanished. “I thought you were notorious for refusing autographs?” He pokes fun at you, but not in a way that annoys you like Taehyung had.
“They were bothering me and that was the easiest way to get them to leave,” you explain in half-truth. “Should I give you one too? It’d be better for you to leave before the media shows up.”
“Only if you have a stash of albums hiding in your bag.”
“I don’t.”
“Why did you happen to have one with you?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“I’m just curious. Idols don’t just carry around their own albums like that.”
“…My friend gave it to me,” you say after a moment of hesitation. That isn’t a lie, but a vague truth.
“Your friend gave it to you as a gift, and you just gave it away to a stranger?” Jimin chuckles, amused by you for whatever reason. “Living up to your reputation as Ice Queen, huh.”
You narrow your eyes at him. You hate when other people call you that, and you hate it even more when they aren’t wrong.
“I’m just kidding, Snow.” The way he smiles while speaking is so mesmerizing that you almost forgive him. “I know you did it with good intentions. And because of that, those two boys were able to leave here with a smile.”
“Good.” Your expression softens. “Anyway, did you need something or…?”
“I just wanted to say hi before heading home,” Jimin shook his head. “But let’s hangout some time, yeah?” He waves farewell and leaves before you can properly reject him.
On your way home, however, you take the time to consider the boy’s offer again. Truthfully, it would be a nice opportunity, especially since you don’t have any friends besides Seokjin. Plus, Jimin is pretty fucking attractive in your eyes.
But the conclusion you come to remains the same. There’s no way you can say yes.
By the time you finally return home, it’s late, you’re exhausted, but you still have that self-portrait to draw. In all honesty, you’re quite jealous of Taehyung who has a friend willing to do the work for him. If anything, Jungkook should draw your face, since you were the one who ultimately ensured that he got his signed album. But that’s just you being salty.
You pull out your sketchbook and pens and stare into the oval mirror that hangs from your bedroom wall. Your eye makeup is smudged, your dark circles are prominent through the fading concealer, and your eyes are as icy as ever. To finish your homework as soon as possible, you don’t overthink anything and just draw what you see. At this point you just want to get it over with so you can roll into bed and laze around.
“Finally~” you squeal about an hour later, plopping yourself onto your bed in your pink penguin pajamas. You’re always in a more cheerful mood after taking a shower, so you snuggle up under your blankets and take the time to check up on social media before dozing off. This wouldn’t be the first mistake of the night.
According to the latest news that has blown up on Twitter, you’re apparently dating and fucking Park Jimin, who made a special trip just to see you, his secret lover. How. Fucking. Romantic. You laugh because you notice a confused Jungkook with his hoodie and album in the shadowy background of the tabloid photo. But other than that, you’re pissed.
You want to post a tweet to express your outrage over the dumb rumor, but those kinds of messages need to pass through PR first, and you’re sure as fuck your company’s not going to approve of anything you have to say. As always, they’d just rewrite your statement in a more civilized manor, and at that point, it’s no longer your words.
So instead, you move away from the toxic hellsite that is Twitter and move somewhere a little more tranquil. You wish you could just find a few posts about fans who enjoyed the concert—that would be enough to set your mind at ease. It isn’t easy, considering all of the positive posts are buried beneath the massive amount of shit you’re getting for sleeping with the Park Jimin, but you eventually reach a cute blog post.
“guys! i saw snow tonight and shes so pretty😭💕”
“her vocals? fUCK. yes pls”
“also she might have rbf but shes super sweet ok”
“btw new fanfic coming tomorrow bc i was suddenly inspired lol👋”
You’re not sure how to feel about being the central subject to someone else’s fictional fantasies, but you do really love that you’ve inspired this person. Being able to have a positive impact in someone’s life; that was perhaps the deciding factor for you to walk the path of an idol. You only hope that this rewarding feeling can outweigh all of the bad.
Before closing your eyes, you check the name of the blog: jk.seagull. What a funny name, you giggle to yourself. But at least there’s someone out there who’s able to make your cold-hearted soul laugh. And for that, you’re as grateful to that person as your fans are to Snow.
-
7:27AM jinnie❤️ “We have to cancel today’s concert.”
7:28AM jinnie❤️ “There have been multiple threats made against you overnight after that rumor broke out, so we believe this is the safest thing to do.”
7:31AM Y/N “at least now i have more time to spend with my boyfriend park jimin~”
7:32AM Y/N “(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻”
7:33AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N, just take it easy today, okay? I’ll keep you updated on everything.”
7:35AM jinnie❤️ “Let me know if you want to talk.”
7:40AM Y/N “can you come over now?”
7:41AM Y/N “and can you bring another album please?”
You roll out of bed much earlier than expected to change out of your pink penguin pajamas and into sweats. Usually, you’d kill time by scrolling through Twitter, but since you aren’t in the mood to see all of the death threats, you decide to check up on that jk.seagull blog instead. You’re delighted to see that there’s a new post waiting for you. It’s a comic of some sort.
The first thing you see is a cute drawing of a pouty magic girl with bright blue eyes and a tiny snowflake in her palms. You’ve never seen fanart of Snow before, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of detail and effort put into the drawing. It looks a lot like you, except cuter.
What impresses you even more is the storyline of the comic. Snow is a powerful ice witch who wishes to protect the world from evil. The only problem is that the world fears her and bans her from using magic. Rather than shunning the world that has shunned her, she decides to find new ways to be a positive light for others without the use of magic. She decides there are other ways to be a hero.
You want to keep reading, but there’s a knock at your door.
“Ooh, pancakes~” you sniff the plastic bag of sweets that your manager hands to you as you sit him down on your couch. “Thanks, Jin~”
“You’re in a rather good mood, despite all the shit that’s been going on,” Seokjin says, putting a warm hand against your forehead to make sure you’re not sick.
“I just read an interesting fanfic.”
“You read fanfics?”
“Not usually, but this one was super cute by this funny person named jk.seagull.”
“jk.seagull? He’s a pretty popular writer and artist for Snow fanfiction, you know.”
“How would you know that? Are you saying you read smutty fanfics about me, Kim Seokjin?” you smirk.
“I never said anything about smut!” He gets overly dramatic whenever you tease him, but you always find it adorable.
“So anyway, has anyone addressed the dating rumors yet?”
“Jimin apologized for the misunderstanding, but that’s all so far.”
“We shouldn’t have to apologize.” You take an angry bite of the pancakes. “I’ll deny the rumor, but I’m not going to apologize for something that didn’t happen.”
“Look Y/N, I understand, okay? But you should at least relay a statement to PR so you can clear things up on your end.”
“Just tell them I’m sorry for interacting with another human and I’ll never do it again.”
“Y/N…”
“What, Jin? It’s bullshit. I can’t do anything without it being twisted into something scandalous and getting a shit ton of hate for it. And the company isn’t even trying to help. The only reason they want me to apologize is to save their own asses, not mine.”
“Then what do you want to do?” Seokjin speaks in his calm voice.
“I want a break,” you sigh. What’s the point of being an idol if you’re doing more harm than good?
“I’ll ask the CEO on your behalf,” Seokjin pinches your cheek. “So cheer up.” He hands you the album you requested before heading out to give you some space to think.
The rest of the day is spent being a sad potato. You honestly don’t mind the threats or rumors by themselves, but what irks you is the fact that you’re not the idol you hoped to be. You’re not a light that people look to when they’re feeling down. You’re not someone who’s made a positive impact on the world. You’re no one’s hero.
You pick up your phone and go back to jk.seagull’s comic and reread everything that’s posted so far. You’re not sure why, but it’s as if this comic understands you—not just you as Snow, but also you as Y/N. The only difference is that the Snow portrayed in the comic is a much better version of yourself; a version you’re not sure you can achieve.
One other thing you don’t yet comprehend about the comic is the title: Witch Hazel. Who would ever name a story after skincare products? Then again, who would ever name himself jk.seagull?
After looking over Witch Hazel once more, you’re finally done being a sad potato and log back onto Twitter. You link the comic to tweet and post it out to the world. No caption is attached to the tweet. You want the comic to speak for itself.
#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts angst#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#bts college au#bts idol au#jungkook x reader#bts imagines#jungkook#bangtan#bts#witch hazel
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The Beautiful Ones
Here is my first Sons of Anarchy work! If you would like to send requests, feel free! Please enjoy and be kind, as this is my first one.
Much love - K
Teller!Reader x Filip “Chibs” Telford (platonic)
Warnings: language, blood, death
_______________
The garage was practically empty, aside from you, Tara, and Chibs.
The guys were on a run in Tacoma, but you were expecting them to be back soon. Chibs’s bike needed a new carburetor, for it had blown out on him halfway to Teller-Morrow, so he had stayed behind.
You had been in the office all day, taking your Mom’s shift so she could watch your nephews, Abel and Thomas. Tara had left the hospital from her last shift of the week, and figured that she would just stay with you and wait for the club to arrive.
Looking up, staring out into the vacant lot, where your eyes had been searching its dimly lit and quiet spanse, you narrowed your eyes to focus on the few stars that you could point out in the vast expanse of the black California night. Sometimes, you wished that you could become one of those remote lights in the sky, to escape the chaos within your life, the mess that had consumed your family.
“Do you have some spare clothes? I really need to get out of these scrubs.”, Tara asked as she reached you from her car, glancing down at the brown substances and other oddly colored spots on her top.
“Yeah,”, you told her, exhaling your cigarette smoke through your nostrils, “They’re in Jax’s old room.”
She smiled in thanks, but as she walked past, she remarked, “I thought you quit?”
“I thought I did, too.”, you chuckled before taking another puff. You had rarely smoked to begin with, but you had quit a few months back. However, considering the newfound shit that the club had dug themselves into once again, along with your own personal stress, your wall of strength had buckled once you caught a whiff of Chibs’s cigarette earlier in the day.
“Okay, gimme.”, you demanded, walking up to Chibs while he leaned up against one of the far walls of the shop.
“No no no, lass, you’re done, remember?”, he told you with his signature smirk.
You glared at him as you reached for his newly lit cigarette, but he raised it above his head.
“Really?”, you asked incredulously, practically climbing onto him to reach the cigarette. As you did, you snuck your other hand into his cut, feeling around for his whole pack. You snatched them out of the pocket before Chibs could stop you.
“Dammit, Y/N!”, Chibs responded, a hint of his smirk still evident on his scarred cheeks.
Quickly sticking it to your bottom lip, you lit it up with the Zippo that you had snatched from the office desk.
“What’s got you so worked up, love?”, he posed, scanning your frame, recognizing the familiar tension in your body.
You held in the smoke for a few seconds, the toxins feeling like heaven to your nerves, with your eyes closed, then blew it out.
“Do you really have to ask?”, you answered, now meeting his eyes. Being a Teller, you definitely knew more club business than most; more than Tara, and your own mother at times.
“Come ‘ere.”, the salt and peppered Scot sighed, ushering you over to him. The two of you had grown quite close throughout the years, and neither of you took it for granted.
You gave in with a small smile, flicking away a few ashes as you shuffled your way over.
Chibs slung his arm over your shoulders, bringing you to his side. You leaned your head onto his shoulder.
“Everything is going to be alright. Things’ll sort themselves out, they always do.”, he told you, but deep down, he wasn’t so sure if the club could come back from their current business.
You looked up at him, your smile tired, “Oh, what would I do without you, Chibby?”
The pair of you laughed, then Chibs placed a small kiss atop your head, before leaning his head against yours. A little bit of tension left the both of you as you enjoyed the silence, the smoke, and the presence of one another.
Flicking the bud out from your fingertips, you stomped it out with the tip of your white Cortez.
You swaggered back into the stuffy box that was the office, glancing down at the few papers that you had left to sort through and file.
“Where's Tara?”, you thought, glancing at the clock on the wall.
Turning towards the open door, you looked out at the open yard. It seemed peaceful only moments before, yet, now it had an eeriness to it, the air feeling sickly instead of its pleasant warmth.
You hoped that the guys would be back as soon as they said.
Patting your waistline for the small handgun tucked into your backside, you stepped back outside to head over to the clubhouse.
Once you walked past the black picnic tables near the clubhouse door, however, the door opened before you could reach it.
Tara stepped out, meeting your eyes with uneasiness, her posture stern and stiff. Though, you took notice of the quick flash of fear in her eyes when they met your own.
A man dressed down in blacks and greys held a gun to her back, pushing her forward. She nearly tripped, taking his proding as a sign. She held her hands up, never leaving your eyes.
Then, you felt his eyes on you, and as you met their beedy depths, you curtly grabbed your gun from your back and held it up, aiming it at his chest.
“What the fuck do you want?”, you questioned, quite exasperated at the turn of events.
“Where's your father?”, the man spat out, sticking the gun farther into Tara's spine. He could've been part of Darby's crew, but you weren't positive, his tatts were covered up by cargo pants and a henley.
Clay wasn't your biological father, but JT had died when you were small, so Clay was as close as you would get to a father. Well, besides Piney, when he wasn't on a bender.
“Clay isn't here right now, but I'd be delighted to take a message.”, you told him in a sickly sweet tone.
“Don't play games with me, Teller, where the fuck is Clay?” His body was trembling in adrenaline and anger. You looked at Tara, trying to decide what risk to take first.
“No one else is here, so if you would tell us what you want, then maybe we could work something out.”, you explained, seething.
“Call Clay, now, or Ms. Doctor here gets a little roughed up.”, he commented, an evil smirk twitched at one corner of his mouth.
“Let Tara go so she can call Clay, and I can stay here with you.”, you supplied, losing patience.
“No, fuck that. You go, or you're both dead.”, he grunted.
“Jesus Christ.”, you spat, before meeting Tara's eyes once more. Chibs would have to come out or hear something eventually. But, you decided to make some noise before this guy did first.
It all happened is mere seconds. You aimed and shot the guy in the foot, and Tara ran for it. He went to shoot you, but you tackled him before he managed to get a proper aim.
You landed on top of him, clocking him a good one in the temple, then elbowed his nose as you reached for the gun, which was a mistake. He got the advantage and flipped you over, punched you in the jaw before hitting you with the butt of his gun.
He stopped for a second, peering down at the damage that he had done. At that moment, you pulled the trigger of your own, making two shots into the side of his ribcage. He growled, shot once, and then twice into your chest.
It burned, the sensation making it hard to process anything else besides the ringing in your ears from the gunshots.
Before he could stand from being on top of you, he was ripped up by someone, who you knew had to be Chibs. By now, Chibs was seeing red, even before he saw the blood on the ground.
The Scotsman managed to knock the shooter’s gun out of his hand, before clocking the man with it, sending him to the cement.
You brought a shaky hand to your chest, feeling the weight of blood pooling on the inside of you before seeing it on your own hand. Chibs looked down at you, his eyes going wide, as he got to his knees to cover up as much of your open wounds as he could, to try and stop the blood.
“Tara!”, he yelled desperately, his voice echoing in the still baron lot. But, he didn't need to yell, because Tara was already running towards you.
Tara was quickly by your side, with the little medical supplies that she could find in her car, but it was too late. You, alone, knew that.
You were already feeling cold, inside and out, your body feeling heavy. You coughed, your mouth filling with the bitter taste of iron. At this, you began to tremble, whether it was in shock or fear, you weren't sure.
“Stay with us, Y/N.”, Tara spoke, her voice shaking. She ripped open a package of gauze with her teeth, her and Chibs still trying to apply pressure to your chest wounds.
Your eyes slowly gazed at the both of them as they tried their damndest to save you, but by now all three of you knew that it would be to no avail. Although Tara had already called Jax and an ambulance, she could tell now that maybe one of them would make it here before you were gone.
“Come on, love, stay with us.”, Chibs told you, placing his bloodied hand on your cheek to get your attention.
Your eyes met his deep brown ones, staring into their depths. You noticed the water beginning to collect at the rim of his eyes, which made your eyes begin to itch, tears starting to form. Your were feeling tired now, wanting the welcoming warmth of slumber to take you.
Tara was trying not to panic, she needed to save you. She had to save you. You couldn't die. You were Y/N Teller. Jax’s little helian of a sister. Her family.
“I'm going to become one of them, Filip.”, you told Chibs softly, as if he understood. He managed to smile, but it would be the saddest one that would ever cross his features.
“Who're “them”, lass?”, he asked just as gently, a tear making its way down his face now.
You smiled, gulping back blood, tears, and sorrow. “A star. Like one of those that look down on us.”, you answered. “The beautiful ones.”
Chibs smiled through his tears, then. “Yes, you are, love.”, was all he was able to say before soft sobbs began to shake his chest.
Your body was feeling heavier than ever, yet your worries were long gone. Those weights were lifted.
The low rumbling of bikes were heard in the distance, getting closer. One goateed blonde in particular was going well over the speed limit, closely followed by a seasoned, arthritic brunette, both of their terrorized minds racing just as fast as their bikes.
Your breaths felt feather-like, as if you weren't even moving.
“Just hold on, they're coming.”, Tara told you through her tears. You dismissed her plea with a smile.
Meeting Tara's hazel orbs once more, you told her, “Look after our boys.”
She could only nod, her lips pursed, trying to keep her composure.
Your eyes flickered back to the dark Charming night, the remote lights in the sky no longer feeling so distant. They were welcoming you. You gazed at them, the sound of motorcycles overwhelming your senses.
Then, your breathes faltered and your features softened.
Tara gasped, and Chibs began to panic at not seeing the brightness of your eyes glimmer any longer.
Jax nearly threw his bike to the ground as he ran over to the three of you, but he could tell before his knees met the pavement that his little sister was gone.
He wailed, and Tara moved aside as Jax took you into his arms, blood tainting his leather cut and saturating his white shirt. An overwhelming rush of grief and anguish washed over him as he yelled incoherently, tears blurring his vision. Clay and Opie pushed their way through the rest of the guys.
Clay fell to his knees beside Chibs, in complete shock, dark eyes searching for hope. Opie gazed at you, feeling sorrow well up inside his chest as he grasped onto his hair. Another body on the ground caught his eye, and his sorrow was replaced with rage.
The rest of the club was in utter disbelief. Tig placed a hand onto Chibs’s shoulder, watching as Jax cradled you. Bobby stood next to Opie, feeling lost.
Sirens were screaming in the distance, inching closer to the distressed lot.
Opie reached for his phone to call Gemma.
In life, you thought that the club was playing with fire, that your family was being licked by its flames, both soon to be scorched. But in your death, both collapsed in such a wrathful hellfire that no one would come out unscathed.
#me#my post#sons of anarchy#soa#filip telford#chibs telford#tara knowles#sons of anarchy fanfiction#enjoy punks!
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“Y/n get in here!! I have a video to show you!” Screamed your best friend and roommate. You roll your eyes and get up walking to the living room.
“How can I help you madam?” You say with a curious grin as your best friend is standing there grinning at you.
“Look look look look look!” She says pointing to a YouTube video on the tv.
You look over and notice that it’s David Dobrik on the screen and you instantly get excited.
“Hey guys welcome back to my channel and today I’m gonna have a little bit of a different type of video for you guys.” You turn to your best friend. “I would make the worst first impression on him if I ever got to meet him in person.” You say. “Why do you think that? You’re always so bouncy and happy.” She replies. “I don’t think screeching in his face and then probably shitting my pants would be a great impression. But if he puts it in his vlog and it gets a lot of views maybe he’ll let me be his friend.” You say giggling and shrugging. “ooooh yeah you right you right!” She says giggling along with you. “Well I have to be at work super early so I’m gonna head to bed night!!” You say getting up and padding back to your room. You change for bed, set your alarm for in the morning and get into bed.
***couple weeks later***
You hear the chime above the door go off as someone enters the Starbucks that you work at. Grinning as you turn around and prepare to welcome the new customer you say “Good morn- oh it’s just you what you want?” As you notice it’s just your best friend.
“Well good morning to you too sunshine.” She laughs as you roll your eyes.
“Do you want your usual or something different?” You ask.
She shrugs and says “Nothing for me right now thanks though. I’m just coming to see how your day is.”
You instantly get suspicious. “What happened? You never come in just to check on me.” You say with squinted eyes.
“Nothing! Can’t I just see how my favorite person is?” She says offended with a hand on her heart
“Mmhmm last time you just ‘checked on me’ it’s cause you almost burned down our house. So again I ask. What happened?”
She grins sheepishly and says “I may or may not have a surprise for you! I just need to blind fold you and take you outside.”
“Why do I have to be blind folded?! No!! I love you but I don’t trust you to not get me eaten by something!” You say backing up behind the counter. Luckily it was super super slow in the store that morning.
She does her evil grin “I already cleared it with your boss let’s go!” She yells holding up a black blind fold. You gulp and shuffle forward while turning around so she could put the blind on you
“Please don’t kill me. Remember I pay half of everything you need me.” You joke.
“Oh stop being a big baby and let’s go!” She says excited.
She guides you out from behind the counter and towards the front door.
Once you get outside you feel the sun instantly start warming your face arms. You hear a rustling sound to your left and slightly turn your head listening to the sound.
“What was that? Is it an animal?!” You say starting to get panicked.
She snickers sounding somewhat far away. “You’ll be fine I promise. Remember I’m your favorite person!” She says.
“Okay take your blind fold off!!” She says excitedly. You hesitantly reach up behind your head and start to untie your blind fold. Pulling it off you keep your eyes closed for a second and slowly peek open one eye seeing nothing in front of you. You open both eyes and look confused.
“What is it suppose to-“
“BOO!!” A deep voice yells from behind you grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You scream and turn your head looking over your shoulder. David Dobrik is standing there with one of his hands on your shoulder doing his signature grin holding his camera up. Your scream then goes from scared to excited.
“Holy shit! What the fuck dude!” You screech and start backing up and trip over a rock and fall on the ground hitting your head and passing out.
When you come too your see your best friend standing there looking concerned and slightly scared. “Y/n! Y/n are you okay?! Oh my god! I need you for rent!” She says getting flustered. You started laughing and then get confused. “Did I really just pass out in front of David?” She nods and your cheeks flood with heat. “I was hoping that was a bad dream.” You say still laying on the ground. “Maybe if I stay here he’ll just go away and we’ll forget this whole thing even happened.” You say hopefully.
He leans over your head and laughs “I’m afraid not. This will definitely have to go in the vlog!” He says while still holding his camera pointed towards you. He reaches down a hand to help you stand up. You rolls your eyes and grab his hand feeling tingles. You almost leg go out of shock. He slowly lifts you up and you stand there awkwardly once you get back to your feet.
“Sorry for screeching in your face.” You say while scratching the back of your neck and scrapping the tip of your shoe on the ground.
“I love you by the way. I mean I love your vlogs and y-you’re funny. Can I have a hug? I need to stop rambling I’m probably freaking you out.” You say putting a hand to your mouth to stop your ramblings.
He lets out a laugh. “Of course come here!” He says opening his arms wide pulling you in. You fit snuggly against his chest with your head sitting right under his chin. You grin to yourself.
You pull away even though all you wanted to do was curl up and take a nap.
“This has been fun but I need to get back to work. I don’t know how much more embarrassment I can take for one day.” He laughs and you look at your phone to see what time it was. “Oh hey it’s actually time for me to go home!” You say excited.
“Would you like a ride home in the Tesla?” He asks grinning again.
“What am I gonna do with my car?” You ask. You really wanted to ride in the Tesla.
“I’ll drive it home! I caught a ride with him to come here.” Your best friend says. You had forgotten she was even here.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother to either of you.”
“Of course not!! It’s no bother at all! We can vlog more in the car!” David says getting excited.
You turn to your best friend. “Are you sure? I know how much you hate driving.” She waved you off totally fine. “ I’m sure. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to.” She says laughing slightly.
“Oh my god you are the best!!” You say hugging her and then following David to his tesla.
He holds open the passenger door for you to slip into. Then walked around to the drivers side and goes “Wanna see how fast she goes?” He grins looks like a little kid on Christmas.
“Of course!” You say getting excited and putting on your seat belt.
He takes off like a rocket and you feel your stomach just drop. You clench your whole body and hold onto your seat laughing the whole time.
He slows down and you guys start making small talk as you give him directions to your house.
When he stops outside of your apartment building he turns slightly in his seat and grins at you. “You’re reaction was actually the best one I’ve gotten so far and you seem like a really cool and chill person and I’d like to hang out with you again and get to know you more.” He says looking nervous.
You gulp and your eyes widen “I w-would love that!” You say stuttering slightly.
“Okay great! Can I see your phone?” You pull your phone out unlock it and hand it to him. He starts typing away and then poses for a picture holding up the peace sign and pursing his lips. He hands you back your phone and reaches across the middle to pull you into another hug. You hold him back tightly and close your eyes with a grin on your face.
“I’ll see you later!” He yells as you get out and walk into of the car to get to your house. You run across the street and start screaming when you get to the door and start dancing a little bit forgetting he was still watching. You turn around when you open the door and see him just laughing away inside his car while looking at you. You give him the biggest grin and wave at him. He waves back at you as you shut the door.
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Your Love’s a Fucking Drag (But I Need It So Bad)
Summary: Dan likes black and leather jackets, Phil likes reading in solitude and playing video games. But they have one thing in common as new roommates at uni: They are both completely straight. Just because they like to get each other off every once in a while doesn’t make it any different.
A/N: So I just checked the masterpost and apparently it’s almost been a year since my last chapter. Open apology to Rachel and anyone that still reads this for the massive delay--hopefully I won’t take another year next time haha. Also the Halloween parts are because I was going to post this in October/November until I lost power so enjoy some seasonally appropriate spooks.
Word Count: 3383
tw; language, smoking, smut
co-written with botanistlester
Masterpost
Chapter Ten
There were certain facts in life that were indisputable. Beyonce was queen, Jar Jar Binks was a stain on humanity, water was wet, and Dan Howell was hot. And because it was indisputable acknowledgment of the latter was normal, healthy even. It didn’t mean Phil was gay or anything, just that he had eyes and appreciated aesthetically pleasing things.
So noticing the strangely attractive combination of sexy and adorable that was Dan’s still damp hair was a perfectly heterosexual thing to do. Phil was just confident enough in his masculinity to notice.
Dan was surveying himself in the mirror, arms crossed. A black and white plaid shirt tapered around his waist over a pair of black skinny jeans. “How do I look?” he asked, turning to pose dramatically. It should’ve looked ridiculous--and it did, but Dan broke character, smiling widely enough for his dimple to show and fuck if he didn’t look good.
“Yeah. Really good.” Phil cleared his throat, mouth dry. “You’re leaving your hair curly?”
“I was thinking about embracing the hobbit hair on a more permanent basis.”
“Why?” The word emerged more incredulous than Phil had intended, but the unrelenting curliness of his roommate’s hair had always been one of his favorite subjects of complaint.
Dan made a contemplative sound, reaching for his jacket. “It never stays straight for one. I step outside and if there’s any humidity I look like a deformed hedgehog. And…” he trailed off, shrugging. “I guess it doesn’t look that bad when it’s shorter.” He slung his coat over his arm, popping open the door. “You sure you don’t want to come?”
Phil shook his head. “I don’t want to crash your date,” he said, supportive smile strained.
“What?” Dan blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “What are you talking about?”
“Your romantic evening with Cheryl?”
“We’re just going as friends,” Dan clarified. “We talked a few days ago and realized there was no point in letting something like what happened ruin a perfectly good friendship.” Personally, Phil wasn’t sure how cheating could be summed up as casually as ‘something like this,’ but he nodded anyway. “So you wouldn’t be crashing. I think Jo and Avery are coming too.”
Phil choked on his own spit, book tumbling to the floor. Dan was there in a flash, dusting the cover off and handing it over. “Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “I was just surprised.” Surprised was putting it lightly, considering one of the last times he’d seen Dan and Avery together they looked like they were going to punch each other. He sighed, making a face as his gaze returned to his English. He did have the whole weekend, and part of him wanted to be there in case anything happened. “Okay,” he said finally. “If you’re sure.”
Dan’s expression lit up. “Positive.”
Phil rolled off the sofa, shoving his feet into his trainers. He wasn’t anywhere as dressed up as Dan, but he figured Illuminati t-shirts were always in style. “One condition, you have to share your popcorn.”
Dan rolled his eyes, lips pressing together in a smile. “And here I thought you actually wanted to spend time with me.”
“I do, but it’s mostly about the food.” Phil ducked through the door, Dan following and locking it behind them. “Did you grab the key?”
Dan jangled the keys in his pocket. “What kind of fool do you take me for?”
“One that usually does.”
The boy elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up, spork.”
Phil elbowed him back, smiling. Dan’s nicknames devolved on the daily, and he’d be lying if he said they weren’t at least a little endearing. “What movie are we watching?”
“It. I’m excited to see it, but in terms of movies coming out at the end of this year I think I’m more hyped for Star Wars,” Dan said. “I really hope they don’t show the trailer because I’ve been trying not to watch it. I want it to be full immersion.”
“For it to be a ‘star war’ does it have to involve multiple planets or does it just have to happen on a planet far far away?” Phil mused. “Like if someone on Tatooine was learning about World War II would that be a star war or an earth war?”
“I think it has to involve other planets?” Dan said, frowning. “So earth war? I still don’t understand why Kylo Ren built what was basically a clone of the first death star. I get he had a thing for Vadar but that was stupid even for him.”
“I think that’s just called bad writing,” Phil said wryly.
Dan laughed. “I think you’re right. There’s a special place in hell for plot holes. They’re not even a pet peeve anymore--they’re ruining my life.” He pulled out his phone, turning it on to reveal a picture they’d taken at Marzia’s last month. Dan’s arm was slung over his shoulder, free hand making his signature peace sign. Phil had pulled a face at the last minute, crossing his eyes and making a fish mouth. “We’re running a few minutes late,” he said.
“I don’t mind missing the previews.” Phil gave him a wary look. “Are you going to fall off your chair when there’s a jumpscare?”
Dan’s eyes widened in horror. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Jesus.”
“I’ll pretend to spill my Pepsi so no one sees.”
“Thank you Phil. What a true friend.”
“I try.”
“Seriously though,” Dan said, with another glance at his phone. “We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago.”
“I’ll race you there,” Phil offered. “And by race I mean run three meters before collapsing on the ground from lack of exercise.”
Dan was grinning, already getting into position. “It’s on Lester.”
-
“Are you going to make me sleep with all the lights on again?” Phil asked.
Dan nodded. “Protect me dad. And also move over.”
Phil rolled his eyes, sliding further into the booth nonetheless. They were grabbing dinner post movie before heading back to campus, and he was crammed in between Jo and Dan in the middle of the bench. Cheryl and Avery were draped over each other across the table, and the rest of them had come to a mutual agreement not to disrupt them for the sake of everyone’s innocence.
“I didn’t think it was that scary,” Jo said, winding one of the straw wrappers around her finger. “More suspense than horror.”
“I might have some clown related nightmares,” Phil said. “But only for tonight, not the whole week unlike someone I know.” He turned towards Dan, nudging him with his foot. “I could always tie a red balloon to your bed when you’re least expecting it.”
Dan narrowed his eyes. “Only if you want to me to put knives in the cereal.”
“What? Why?”
“Because then,” he said empathetically, face centimeters away from Phil’s. “Maybe you’d learn your lesson Lester.”
“Save the domestic shit for the bedroom,” Avery interrupted loudly. He and Cheryl had finally remembered they were two separate entities and dismounted, though Phil noted with some amusement that their knees were still pressed together under the table.
“Only if you do,” Dan retorted.
Avery huffed amusedly. “Fair point.” Surprisingly, he and Dan had gotten along fine so far. He and Cheryl spent most of the evening off in their own world, and the few interactions had been civil enough.
“Hey Phil.”
Phil looked up at the sound of Cheryl’s voice, chewing on the end of his straw absentmindedly. “Yeah?”
“You’re coming to my party this weekend, right?”
He spat his water onto the placemat, Dan patting him on the back helpfully. “Sorry?”
“Dan already said he was coming,” Cheryl continued.
“I did?”
“--And you can be his plus one! It’ll be so much fun.”
Phil couldn’t help but remember what had happened the last time he’d attended a party Cheryl had promised would be fun. “I’m not really a party kind of person.”
“Please?”
He met Dan’s eyes, raising a questioning eyebrow. Dan inclined his head, shrugging as if to say if you’re in. Resigned, he looked back to Cheryl. Hopefully the alcohol would be stronger this time. “Okay.”
-
Thursday afternoon Phil came home to two boxes of flying saucers, enough Cadbury eggs, Aero bars, and Galaxy chocolate to feed his entire English class, and another box of what he was pretty sure were Maltesers sitting on the floor. Dan was sprawled across the carpet, phone in one hand and a Mars bar in the other.
“I’m glad you remembered to buy food for game night,” Phil said. “But I think you might’ve overdone it a little.”
Dan smiled innocently, holding aloft a bursting bag. Phil didn’t even want to know where he’d been hiding it. “Actually, that’s mine. This is for tonight.”
“I don’t understand how you we haven’t died from a heart attack yet.”
“Says the one who ate all the marshmallows last time we tried to bake.”
“I have no idea what you’re on about.”
“Or the chocolate chips last time I wanted to bake cookies?”
Phil shook his head disapprovingly. “We really need to take care of the mouse problem. They keep eating all of our hard earned ingredients.”
“Yes, because I’m sure the mice have developed opposable thumbs advanced enough to open packaging.”
“It’s possible. Can I at least have a Cadbury egg?” Dan tossed him one wordlessly. “Thanks.” He settled next to the other boy, back resting against the sofa. “Do you want to watch the episode of Riverdale we missed?”
Dan held up a finger in the universal wait for it symbol, pulling his laptop out of his bag and opening it. The page was already queued to the episode, and the cursor hovered over play. “I thought you’d never ask.”
-
Phil adjusted his grip on Susan’s arms, eyes widening in amusement at his reflection. Because he wasn’t already broke enough, he had a slightly unhealthy hobby of investing in strangely wonderful crap that had very little actual use. The stress mushroom had been bad enough, but he thought maybe the inflatable gargoyle could be considered slightly worse. Or better, depending on your point of view.
“What the hell is that?”
Phil patted Susan’s head, beaming. He spun to face Dan, throwing his arms out in a dramatic pose. His inflatable Halloween costume had arrived this morning, but he was only just getting a chance to try it out. “What do you think? It’s for Cheryl’s party.”
“I think it should go back to Hell where it belongs,” Dan said. He reached out and poked Susan’s head, making a face. “Do I even want to know where you found this?”
“Her name is Susan, and you know how Amazon suggests things for you?” Phil shrugged, an impressive feat given his current position.
Dan shook his head. “I’m not even surprised anymore.”
“I think they had a pink version if you’re interested.”
“You know, I think I’m good.”
Phil bent over, giving him a headbutt from Susan. “Try laying on it. It’s really comfortable, actually.”
Dan gave him a look. “No thanks.”
Susan gave him another headbutt. “Come on.” His roommate gave a long suffering sigh, resting his head against the gargoyle’s shoulder. “Weirdly comfy, right?”
Dan sighed, pressing a hand against his forehead. “Yes Phil, I love having an air pump bore a hole into my pocket.”
“It’s okay Susan,” Phil said. He leaned further back and patted one of her horns reassuringly. “I still love you.” He jumped as something vibrated in his pocket, locating his phone. A picture of he and Maria at their senior prom flashed across his screen as he swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey Phil! Are you still coming up this weekend?” Susan knocked into the refrigerator. Shit. Maria correctly took his silence as an answer. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
Phil wondered if it would be too much to ask the floor to swallow him whole. “Maria I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot.”
“So you’re not coming?”
He collapsed on his bed, cradling the phone against his ear. “I was invited to a party this weekend and I said I would go.”
She made a disbelieving sound. “You hate parties. Can’t you just cancel?”
“I would, it’s just…” he glanced towards Dan, who was graciously studying through his phone like it held the basecode of the universe. “I promised Dan I would go.”
There was a pause. Maria’s voice was icy when she spoke again. “Dan, huh? Well you promised me you would visit a month ago and I’m the one you’re dating. Or have you changed your mind?”
“Of course I haven’t changed my mind,” Phil said defensively. Okay, so maybe he’d been bad at remembering to call and he’d almost forgotten to wish her luck on her last exam but he’d been spending a lot of time with Dan lately, and maybe it wasn’t so strange Maria was questioning his feelings.“I love you, Maria. You’re the only person I want to be with.”
Her tone softened fractionally. “I love you too. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten upset. I really am glad you’re making friends. I guess I just miss you.”
Phil winced, shrinking under the guilt. He was really losing points in the boyfriend department. “I miss you too,” he said. “But next weekend I’m all yours. I promise.”
He could hear Maria’s smile through the phone. “I’m holding you to that. Have a good time at your party.”
“Thanks. Happy Halloween.”
“You too. Class is starting, but I’ll talk to you later.”
Phil ended the call and returned his phone to his pocket, waving a hand in front of Dan’s face. “You can stop pretending to play Angry Birds.”
“I never pretend about Angry Birds.” He held up his phone. “I almost beat my high score too.”
“Sorry to kill the streak.”
“Is everything okay? It sounded like it was getting pretty intense.”
Phil sighed, starting to roll over before remembering Susan and thinking better of it. “I completely forgot I was supposed to visit her this weekend.”
“I don’t mind if you’d rather do that,” Dan said. “She is your girlfriend, after all.”
“It’s okay, we rescheduled for next weekend.”
Dan stared at him for a moment, expression uncharacteristically unreadable. “If you’re sure.”
“Positive.” Phil reached for the Susan’s kill switch, watching it the gargoyle deflate. “Remember? It’s going to be the most fun I’ve ever had.”
-
Phil was not having the fun he’d ever had. At least there hadn’t been any crying so in that aspect it was already better than last time, but he supposed that was a pretty low bar. In the end he’d left Susan at home, but he wasn’t sure if he stuck out more being the only person not in costume. He’d worn a Halloween themed jumper at least, and Dan was similarly dressed, but even Avery had made a lame attempt at a zombie costume.
“I feel slightly underdressed,” Dan said, echoing his thoughts. “Maybe we should’ve looked harder for the cat ears.”
“I don’t know,” Phil said. “I think my costume as ‘internet introvert that finally left the house’ is pretty scary.”
Dan laughed before screwing his features into a mask of terror, pressing a hand to his heart and backing against the wall. “Get it away from me! It’s hideous!”
Dan’s laugh was infectious, and for a moment Phil was able to forget the stares from everyone around him and the way his shoulder was plastered uncomfortably to the arm of the person beside him. “You should’ve gone as a rat to embrace your true self.”
“I take back everything I said earlier. You’re a terrible friend.”
Phil shot him a look of pure betrayal, or as close a one as he could muster anyway. “How fickle of you Daniel.”
Dan opened his mouth to respond when a third year shoved him into Phil as she pushed past. Her breath smelled like beer, laugh loud and intoxicated. Phil staggered under her and Dan’s combined weight, bracing himself against the wall and knocking into the man behind him. Dan managed to regain his balance, mouthing an apology. The music swelled as the song switched to an electronic remix of Call Your Girlfriend that was a little too loud to be comfortable. Phil wondered how bad it was that he’d only been here for half an hour and he was ready to leave.
Dan wrinkled his nose, plugging his ears. His lips were moving again, the sound inaudible. Phil made an ‘x’ and pointed to the door, inclining his head in question. Dan frowned, shaking his head. Phil sighed, leaning in. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, raising his voice.
Dan looked relieved. “I thought you’d never ask!” he shouted. It was all the warning Phil had before he turned and plunged headfirst into the crowd.
Despite his roommate’s height Phil lost track of him after a few seconds, and quickly found himself pathetically and hopelessly lost. Sweat was starting to gather at the base of his neck, and he stumbled to a halt, standing on his tiptoes and scanning the crowd. Still no Dan--not that he could see or hear him anyway over the blood rushing in his ears that was almost as loud as the music and infinitely more headache inducing, He took a step and tripped over the couple beside him, the boy’s elbow catching him in the throat and knocking the air out of his lungs.
Phil had gotten lost the first and only time he’d ever gone to America. He and his family had taken an afternoon trip to the mall, but he’d gotten distracted by the Pikachu plushies and when he looked again everyone had disappeared. He’d been seven then, but the feeling of abandoned terror was the same.
He forced in a shuddering gasp of air, pulse thudding under his fingertips. The room felt like it was getting hotter, or maybe it’s just him because he can’t breathe and he doesn’t know where the door is or even a bathroom and he can’t find Dan and everything is so loud and he thinks he might die here and--
“Phil!” Dan shoved through the crowd, coming to a halt with visible relief that quickly turned to concern. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, forcing himself to speak past the tightening of his throat. “Outside.” Dan’s expression softened in understanding, and he reached for his hand. The pressure was familiar, grounding and reassuring as Dan led him along the edges of the room to the door. The exit had never looked better, and Phil fumbled for the handle with his free hand, sweat slicked fingers slipping over the brass. Dan nudged him out of the way and pushed it open, ushering him outside.
He relaxed at the first breath of fresh air, sinking against the wall. He exhaled shakily, head resting against the brick to face the stars. From out here he could tune out the music, and he dropped Dan’s hand to wipe his palms against his jeans. “I’m sorry for making you leave,” he said. “I don’t mind if you want to stay.”
Dan smiled, something in the gesture subdued. Guilt twisted at the knowledge that it was probably because of him--because he couldn’t walk the fifteen meters to the door like a normal person without almost having a panic attack. “Trust me, I’m more than happy to leave. Do you feel any better?”
Phil nodded. “A little. Thanks for not leaving.”
“I would only consider it if you actually did put a red balloon in my room. I think we still have Chinese in the fridge,” Dan suggested lightly. “And there’s season two of Stranger Things to finish.”
Phil managed a weak smile. “That sounds great,” he said, conveying as much gratitude in those three words as he could. He wondered what he could’ve possibly done to deserve someone like Dan as his roommate, but whatever it was he was thankful. Somehow he always knew he what he needed, even if Phil himself hadn’t figured it out yet.
Without thinking he reached for Dan’s hand again, falling into step beside him as they headed home.
#ylafdbinisb#your love's a fucking drag (but I need it so bad)#phan#phanfic#phanfiction#phan au#fanfic#fanfiction#phanfic au
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Chapter 2 - Run-off
"How's the arm tiger."
Aidan woke to see Sarah's coy face looking back at him from beside his hospital bed.
"Pretty good..." He said.
The hospital bed was very high up and the height almost matched the window frame, so Aidan could see clearly outside of the window, Oahu was jolting with tourists as usual, markets, arcades and the thickly overly paved streets, the ancient cracks in between where cement should have been were filled with sand, he forgot how much he loved the quaint little town, you could see the wind bracing the palm trees outside as a pelican was somewhat firmly nested sitting on top of the tree, was woken from its slumber by some noise and flew away.
His arm lay in a cast beside him , a marked cast, which someone had basically defaced with black stripes
"Rick"... Aidan noticed his handwriting, luckily the two other petite signatures stretched across the top of his bandaged arm that were scribbled over it it were much more conservative and so he decided to let it go for the moment.
"Its kind of early to see pelicans don't you think,"Alex said as she looked outside of the window, the fish migrations patterns aren't usually around here this time of year so that guy’s kind of far off from Kauai.
"Well, Marlin the clownfish needs to find Nemo sometime dontcha think". Truman said with a bolt of surmise.
Rick laughed as Alex paused.
"What was the pelicans name again? Sarah asked.
"I think it was George." Truman said unsurely.
“And they were also in Australia Truman, that joke is geographically challenged.”Sarah said.
"Oh really, well did you know this is actually Finding Nemo 3, they lost him again "
Aidan laughed.
"Well I thought jokes were supposed to have detailed complex layers." Sarah chimed."its reall-
"EVERYBODY HUSH" Alex interrupted.
"Were going to address why were all here." She said as she pointed at Aidan.
Aidan stopped mid laugh.
"Now I'm not going to tell him anything cause I already know why he was being an idiot so-
"Wait a minute!, I have the right to defend my-”
"No" Alexandra interrupted," You dont, you know why you hurt yourself, but i don't think you realize how important of a lesson this presents"
And whats that lesson?
"Always wear a para...OW" Sarah hit Truman before he could finish.
Everybody else in the room remained silent looking at Aidan with a sort of guilt almost, dwelling in the obvious truth.
"Well I'm still alive !,"he said with a bolt of passion. "Like it’s not the worse thing that could have happened... my bones will grow back.
"Slowly." Alex said as she pried open the cable box.
“Huh?” Aidan said
"They'll grow back SLOWLY. " She said as she plugged in a computer board to the cable box and like magic, a cartoon slowly glimmered its way onto the television screen.
Aidan flinched..
“Actually if someone hadn’t had been talking to me while I was cl…
Alexandra quickly bolted a stare at him and he corrected himself.
..She caught me off guard.
" She would have caught anyone off guard.
Sarah scoffed.
"...Anyone?" she said as she gleamed at Rick jealously.
"I mean, not like that, its not like I find her... that attractive when it all comes down to it.
Everyone sighed.
"I mean in like summation,” he said.
Everyone went along ignoring Ricks pleas.
“Like in totality… you know"
Alexandra chuckled.
"Ok..ok..... She’s average at best ."
"That's BULLSHIT!" Truman yelled.
“We both know damn well y-"Suddenly curtains behind them were pulled back to show a disgruntled nurse.
COULD YOU GUYS PLEASE KEEP IT DOWN ?! she beckoned, "this isn't your school yard, ok."
Alex scoffed.
"I don't get payed enough for this" she whispered to herself as she turned around to help the other patient.
Truman scoffed.
"Id pay to you fairly to let me suck on them ti-" Sarah quickly covered his mouth before he could finish.
The nurse turned around furiously to see Aidan covering his mouth from the bubbling laughter. Rick did the same while he coughed into his shoulder and let out a chuckle.
Alexandra glared at Truman with a look of disbelief.
She angrily stomped out of the room, her face completely in remorse as she whispered to herself.
"Fucking delinquents"
Sarah slapped the shit out of Truman.
“Ow! What!" Said Truman
Be respectful" Sarah said as she recoiled her palm
He did deserve that. Aidan thought.
“Oh so I’m the rude one now?!” Truman refuted.
Yes?! Alex said surely.
Truman scoffed as they both revved up again and went on a rant to side. Rick walked across the other side of the room, to the adjoining hospital patient bed to see who it was and just stopped.
"Well fuck." He said, as pulled the curtain in the middle of the room abruptly to the side. The group went silent.
Everyone looked over to see Claire, in an adjoining hospital bed.
“Well at least you have a swell roommate,” he said jokingly.
Aidan eyed the following bed.
She looked tired and muffled alone in her sleep as she turned over on her side of the bed, the covers crumpled up at the end of the bed.
"Jesus" Alexandra exclaimed.
Claire's bare ass cheeks had clapped into view together, bare and in glorious view as she lay still again... Everyone watched without a word. Aidan blushed. Rick stood in awe. Alexandra was flustered.
"So how long are you staying here again?” Truman chimed
Sarah slapped him again across the face.
Aidan and Victor sat down at the table in the hospitals cafeteria.
Wait so she doesn't have any parents? said Victor fretfully
The cafeteria was dim, the smell of processed meat and bread overwhelmed the area and the cafeteria was quite mellow, lit by the sun shining through the swaying palm trees.
"They died in a plane crash from Honolulu 3 months ago,” said Officer Deacons.
I would probably have been an entirely different person if my parents had died so suddenly; hell I probably wouldn't even be able to think straight, let alone live. Aidan thought to himself.
Claire did, so much as everyone does, found out one day and didn't even flinch,
"She was already a foster child, and was living with her parents for a couple of years in Sakanawga, her foster parents had to tell her the news because they felt like she should've known. She's been wandering around the island ever since. We've gotten a lot of reports of her trespassing, and this marks the twelfth disturbance this week" Deacon said with a pitiful tone.
" Sounds like one serious trend of delinquency " Victor coined
"Still doesn't beat your kerfuffle with Mr. Colhem on the beach a while ago " Aidan remarked.
Victor's mouth halted open as he slowly realized his own sense of hypocrisy. Officer Deacon cleared his throat and pressed on.
"I'm well aware of your record Mr.Mcdaniels, this isn't even close to how pressing of a matter that was, just tedious ".With Claire it's just the same thing over and over again. Trespassing then loitering . I haven't arrested her yet because no one really has given any serious complaints about it or even gotten hurt, ...
"until now." The officer raised his finger toward Aidan.
Aidan looked at officer Deacon and quickly down to his signed cast....
It wasn't that bad.... he thought to himself
Why though? Victor asked.
"Well like I said no ones gotten hurt, so there's been no legitimate means to bring her in, just bring her home and tell her foster parents.."
"No, I mean has she been diagnosed with anything? asked Victor
I don't really know, she's been an enigma when it comes to any type of possible prognosis ; I would assume it's just her way of coping. Makes no type of sense to anyone down at the station. We drug test her every time and she's completely clean. Every time.
Aidan chuckled.
"You ever try moving her to another foster home?" Get her new foster parents? asked Victor
"We could never get her to talk about anything about herself so we just decided it was easier to bring her home and wait for the next time" said the officer. But that is an interesting thought.
Victor paused and thought for a moment. Aidan's eyes wandered across the room in a perplexed array of emotions.
"She seemed to gravitate toward your pool after a long time of wandering though" Officer Deacon sighed. "and the thing is she actually did seem to be at an odd sort of peace before we started to drive away, relaxed actually.
"And then it came to me,the thought, What if she stayed with you guys"
Victor halted for a minute, and looked at Aidan, eager and clearly excited about the thought .
"She could actually live in the guest house shed..." Aidan said posing the thought to himself.
Officer Jenkins looked anxiously at Victor, "Would you want to?" he said.
"She doesn't talk much, we had her in custody for a couple hours; and the entire time she kind just kept looking around like a lost puppy."
If she doesn't talk that much, then why did she talk to me? Aidan thought.
"She really is like a lost puppy though ... Aidan thought and then stopped. Actually wait she's more like a blithering fucking firecracker, I almost broke my arm, God knows what type of bad influence she might be if she lived across the pool from me."
Aidan recoiled and looked at his father." Actually..."
" Alright " Victor Interrupted. "Could you have her foster parents send over the paper work?.
"Of Course," Mr. Deacon grinned hopefully, "I'm sure if I explained the situation to her foster parents they would gladly be open to it if Claire insisted on it." She's too much trouble to try to hammer down for that long anyway; and we have much more pressing matters to deal with this year you know, with the Festival coming up, and it would probably keep her out of our hands for a very long time.
But before I leave I'm actually legally abided as an officer to ask if you're going to want press charges against her.
Aidan paused "what?"
"Do you want to press charges?" said Officer Jenkins
Aidan thought about it for a second, and then looked at his father ...Victor looked back at him with a look that said all too well.
"Let it go".
Aidan looked out the window.....
It really wasn't that bad , he wasn't playing any sports in high school so it wouldn't change that much,the doctor said it wasn't a serious fracture and would probably heal in couple of months... not to mention when his mother would come back eventually she would bring all types of hell down on him if he actually had brought any of it to court, especially over something so petty. The refurbished country club was almost finished and he knew that any type of drama that could be attached to it wouldn't be worth the trouble.
So do you want to go through with it? the officer repeated
Aidan turned back at the officer.
"We're good" Aidan said with a smile.
And from then on , I had always wondered if he had planned on getting rid of Claire as he quick as he possibly could have despite even knowing Victor personally for years , it was all such a weird phenomena to begin with.
http://figment.com/books/1001093-Infinity-Pool-
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