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cow-smells · 3 years

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Eli/Hawk x Reader: Changes

Request: Can you do a Hawk x reader where they are dating since a long time and y/n tries to handle with his change from Eli to Hawk? @sophiahardy912

A/N: Thought I’d write all cutesy lovey dovey fluffy smutty things but then this angst came out? sorry if i failed you idk what happened here

Words: 2054

Warning: A few cuss words

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Eli wasn't... Eli anymore.

Not just in a metaphorical way – he was Hawk now, inside and out. At first it was a refreshing change – you loved Eli back when he was introverted and lacking in confidence, but now Eli loved himself, and that was surely better.

Confidence is a good thing. Right?

You remembered the day he texted you 'Dig it?' attached to a photo of him – classic brunette gone, dyed down and gelled up to a Blue Mohawk.

The phrase 'dig it' by itself was previously foreign to the boy, so of course the new bold hairstyle was a big shock for you. Not a bad one, just unexpected. Even more unexpected was the new attitude that came with it.

When Eli walked up to you the next day at school, he adopted a strut that came with his new hair and attire. You almost didn't recognize him without one of the comfy sweaters he previously would wear, the ones you would steal borrow when you'd go over to his on date night.

It had been a while since you had one of those date nights – Eli wasn't fond of spending too much time in public, always feeling like people were staring at his lip – so you'd often spend the night at his house, watching some horror movie late in to the night, laughing together at cheap, unconvincing productions. Or, even better – clinging to him when a movie really was scary, finding an excuse to casually entwine yourself around him. You loved how he would turn red every time, as though you haven't been together for a long time now.

The last date night you two had was... unusual, yet exciting all the same.

Eli had been Hawk for a while now, and things were taking a turn for the worse. At first it was nice – Eli would link your pinkie fingers together under the table at lunch, Hawk would put his arm around you as you two walked down the hallways between classes. Eli cowered when anyone would so much as look at him; Hawk would shut down anyone who tried to start with him.

You didn't mind it, so to speak, when he got in to a fight with his former bullies. You were worried, of course, but Hawk knew how to handle himself. He beat the shit out of them and after years of Kyler and co taunting him, it felt like fair karma at play. You were actually proud. Hawk came home on cloud nine that day and you were all for being his cheerleader; it ended up being a night of great celebrations.

However, these days he was getting exceedingly violent with anyone who would look at him wrong. It was one thing paying back those who wronged him, but the whole karate thing was getting out of hand; it came to a red line for you once you saw his treatment of Demetri, the only one other than you and Miguel who accepted him far before he accepted himself.

You two had gotten in to a serious argument, Hawk stating that Demetri's treatment is his own doing for being such a nerd, you telling him to grow up.

A couple of days went by with you giving him the silent treatment. Hawk thought he'd just slide in by you the next day at lunch, kiss you and everything would be fine – but you weren't having it. If he didn't mind throwing Demetri under the bus so quickly, how long until that was you instead?

Not talking to Eli proved harder to do than you thought. After so long together it was strange, suddenly having this wall between you two. It had only been a couple of days of you riding the bus to school rather than on his motorcycle with him and you already felt an insistent pit in your stomach that refused to go away, no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with schoolwork and your other friends.

So unsurprisingly, when Hawk texted you asking you to meet him at an unfamiliar address, you agreed.

It was dark out – the only people you saw around the road you were going down were a couple of shady looking dudes, only obviously under the influence.

You checked your phone again to make sure you were going the right way.

“You made it!”

Eli's voice startled you, making you look up from your phone. Illuminated by the blue florescent lights from the shop he stood outside of, he seemed... relieved.

“Yeah,” you answered simply, your eagerness to make up disapparating in to an unconfident hesitation. “what are we doing out here?”

“Look,” Hawk took one of your hands in his. “I don't wanna lose you. And if that means being nicer to Demetri or whoever of those dorks, whatever. I can live with that. But not without you.”

You hated how he knew exactly what to say, even if it wasn't prefect. It was enough.

“You didn't answer,” you said, allowing a flirtatious tone to creep up. “What are we doing here?”

Eli smiled, a smile that was more Hawk than Eli, and pulled you in to the shop after him, knowing he was well on his way to winning you over.

“This is my guy, Rico,” Hawk introduced, fist bumping the older man. Between the familiar name, funny looking chair and sketches on the walls, you knew exactly where you were and what was about to happen.

“Eli?” you tentatively called as Hawk guestued for you to sit in a chair behind the funky-looking one. Rico adjusted said chair and motioned for Hawk to come over. Eli sat on the chair, his back to you.

“You sure about this?” Rico asked, preparing ink on a side table. “Sure,” Hawk answered confidently.

Naturally, your curiosity got you up on your feet towards Eli's other side – of course you wanted to know what he was getting inked – but Hawk quickly protested.

“Stay over there!” he scolded playfully. “It's a surprise.”

The machine started buzzing and even though it wasn't you who was getting anything done, adrenaline started rushing, making you a giddy mess, forgetting all about your previous fight. As needle pierced skin, you spent the time waiting making assumptions over what Hawk was getting on him – at first you guessed the Cobra Kai snake, later guessing Sensei Lawrence in a heart – a suggestion that made Eli laugh particularly hard, in that way that he used to laugh when it was just the two of you (this earned a scolding from Rico, who couldn't get the work done if his canvas was jittering about).

It must have been twenty minutes at best before Hawk rose from the chair and turned to you, gesturing to the new piece over his heart – a heart with your name in it.

Was it possible to have your heart sink and jump simultaneously? On the one hand, you were realistic, and there would probably come a day where he'd regret this – a thought that made you sick. On the other hand, it was the most romantic thing you've ever experienced, and it was unlikely for anyone else to ever top that.

What was done was done, so you shoved aside any negativity and allowed yourself to revel in the love you felt, showering Hawk with kisses that quickly turned in to a deep, longing kiss – until Rico politely suggested you take the show elsewhere.

Apparently “being nicer to Demetri” meant ignoring him altogether, besides some threatening looks. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the alternative, so you let go of it despite it seeming like Hawk was constantly on the edge.

You were ready for another date night – the first since the tattoo parlor – ready to get away from school and its drama, just to spend some quality time with your boyfriend.

Now that he wasn't shy anymore, he suggested going to see a film in an actual movie theatre, which was exactly what you were doing.

The two of you split up – you needed to go to the bathroom so Hawk stood in line for tickets. By the time you had come out you had lost sight of your boyfriend – the crowd around the ticket stalls had suddenly increased.

“You looking for someone?” a male voice asked. Turning around, a couple of guys you didn't know were approaching you. “Think you'd have more fun with us.”

Just as they reached you, a hand grabbed your arm. You were relieved to turn and see Eli – but he wasn't even looking at you. His eyes were locked with one of the guys – you could feel the tension in the air.

“Eli, no,” you whispered firmly. His grip on you tightened, moving you aside – but you weren't going to stand for it. You stepped in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he did to you. “You start something, I walk.” your voice was low, not wanting those guys to hear, but serious enough to make Hawk understand you weren't playing around.

With a grunt, he looked down at you, took your hand and walked away.

You optimistically thought the worst was blown over.

You and Hawk were waiting outside the theatre to be let in, chatting away when Hawk stopped you mid sentence with a kiss.

Another pleasant surprise about Eli's newfound confidence was how willing he was to show affection to you publicly, while before you two could pass off as acquaintances at best.

It was rather random but you accepted the kiss – even when he deepened it, getting closer to you, pulling you closer to him.

His hands started sliding lower.

It wasn't anything you haven't done in the privacy of your bedrooms, but to get that intimate in public, in broad daylight – it was too much for your liking.

“Eli -” you called, pushing away from him. He didn't allow it.

Pulling your hips to his with one hand on your bum, his other went up to hold your chin, tilting it back to grant him access. He managed to hold you for a moment before you mustered up the power to push him a few steps away from you.

Hawk was visually surprised – whether because of you or himself, you were unsure.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, not bothering to keep your voice down this time.

Despite trying so hard to become this new person, new Eli still had old Eli's tells – and a quick glance he threw aside told you everything you needed to know.

Following his line of sight, the two guys from earlier stood there, watching the scene unfold.

“So that's what this is about?” you huffed. “some territory marking thing?”

Hawk struggled to gather his words, his bottom lip bobbing wordlessly a couple of times before he spoke. “Look, you didn't want me to take care of it out there, so-”

“So you do whatever you want with me? Like I'm nothing?”

“Y/n, you know it's not like that-”

“So what is it like?”

When Hawk didn't immediately respond, you turned on your heel to the exit. Hawk followed you outside.

“Come on, Y/n, you know I'd never hurt you!”

“You just did!” you yelled back. “you... I don't know you anymore, and I say that in the worst way.”

“What,” Hawk huffed, “you want me to go back to being a pansy? 'Cause that's not going to happen.”

“You know what's the worst out of all this?” you asked, coming to face Hawk. “at first I thought it was cool, you being all tough. Seeing Kyler become afraid of you. I thought it was great. But now... Now I'm afraid of you.”

Hawk frowned, the realization dawning upon him. “C'mon...” he lifted his shirt to show the heart tattoo dedicated to you. “Doesn't this mean anything to you?”

“Make it mean something.” you replied with a heavy heart, taking a step back and left, leaving Hawk standing alone in the parking lot.

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #demetri cobra kai #hawk cobra kai #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz #cobra kai hawk #hawk imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #eli hawk moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz/reader #eli moskowitz imagine

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kohanayaki · 3 years

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.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom.

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!”

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

“Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1978 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius @pan-pride-12

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littlefreya · 4 years

Text

Penny Dreadful

Summary: Sherlock is cold, troubled and upset, his mind is fixed on cracking an unsolved murder. It’s the worst time to disturb him. But his hot-blooded little succubus wants to drag him into sin.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (First-person POV)

Word count: 2.5K

Warning: 18+, smut, teasing, bratty behaviour, ass-smacking with a cane, slight cane play, primal play, unprotected rough sex, biting, slight size kink, MaleDom, drug use. Lots of curly hair descriptions.

A/N: Not canon to books Sherlock, obviously, but seeing the photos and teaser Henry as Sherlock just sets up the vibe. So I had to. Many thanks to my beta @agniavateira !! Sorry for the ugly cover art :D.

Title: Penny Dreadful

Sherlock’s study was a bleak, musky chamber deprived of heat, notwithstanding the many candles that burnt at every corner. Perhaps it was the pristine heaps of snow that piled on the ledge of the window, or maybe it was his sullen mood that gave the room a sense of icy wilderness.

Fumes rose from his mouth, vaping into the air. The tawny light kissed his thick mane of luscious, chocolate curls while he stood at the fore of his desk and leered at some parchments that troubled his brilliant mind for whatever reason.

Fist seizing the golden tip of his cane, his thumb stroked the engravings that embellished the metal. Cases that he couldn’t crack often left him frustrated to the point of madness. Those wicked, sly obsessions made him even more irresistible.

My nails bit into the wooden doorframe. Consumed by yearning, a blaze licked up my soul with its monstrous tongue. I often wondered how something so pure as love could be dangerous, to which Sherlock would reply,

“Love is the greatest villain of them all.”

Unlike him, I didn’t care for evil.

The detective unclipped the small chain he kept fastened to his vest and opened the silver locket, gathering a wisp of white powder on the tip of his pinky finger and pressed it to his nostrils. A small grunt escaped him, his eyes turning glassy. The “fairy dust” tended to sharpen his perception and elevate his stamina.

I dropped to my knees at his sight, crawling on the floor. The black silks of my dress made a brushing noise as it dragged on the Persian carpet; my breasts peeked as my corset shifted with every move. Sherlock often said we must imagine ourselves as animals once we let desire play our strings.

Accepting my inner wildness, tonight I was a cougar stalking her prey.

By nature, his senses were sharp as blades, though the substance that streamed through his veins made a more heightened grip of the reality that surrounded him. He noticed and yet ignored me, letting his hot-blooded harlot crave for his attention.

If I was to be the feline predator, Sherlock was the hunter who pursued me for sport. An unfair game, yet nevertheless my favourite.

Bathing in my own little fountain of mischief, I allowed my fingers to sneak toward his cane, brushing up and down the mahogany in slow, languid motion. My slender digits licked along the shaft and my bosom followed, pressing against the hardwood. I dragged myself up slightly to glimpse at my master from below: my Sherlock, always a sight for a famished girl; a colossus, intimidating, and breathtaking. Like a moth to a flame, I inched closer dazed by the light, wanting to bask in its radiance.

The muscle in his cheek tensed, thick brows furrowing. A little squared wrinkle appeared above the bridge of his nose as he brushed through his dark locks with agitation.

“What ills that glorious mind of yours?” I hummed, playful fingertips climbing further up at the length of his cane.

“Something I can’t grasp,” he spat, not giving me the time of day. But I knew he noticed every detail of my wanton behaviour, it was evident by the way his breath swiftly became heavier. Sherlock might have solved crimes by profession, but all women were natural detectives; evolution granted us with a definite survival instinct, learning to read men between the shadows.

“You can possess me,” I offered, fingers scraping over his thumb as it pressed onto the cane’s golden tip. My voice dropped to a whisper while my hand left the cane in favour of his thigh. The muscle flexed and twitched under my sinful touch, the fabric of his breeches stretched as his cock grew with its natural need to fulfil the wet, convulsing void in me.

“You’re distracting me,” he warned, voice low and stern. His lashes hardly even fluttered to my direction.

Every delicate little hair stood up at the sound of alarm yet instead, I inhaled the soot of peril, allowing my hand to travel further and meet his hungry girth. It rose to my touch with gratitude, flinching even harder at the clutch of my claws. The flavour of desire was honey and salt on the tip of my tongue.

The low animalistic vibration of his voice wavered through his solid form. I felt it shudder all the way down to his swelling cock. A cautious man, Sherlock was measured and forbearing to a point that made me wonder if he even liked women at all before we fell into the vicious pit of decadence and violent delights.

It was the contrary that was true: Sherlock loved women very much, his desires were simply… of a certain quality.

His groin was warm and firm against my cheek. The crystalline-blue glare finally graced me with a sight so brooding my bones clattered.

“Later, I need to work.” By the drop of his voice, I knew there won’t be a third warning.

“Later, Later…” I taunted, rolling my chin over his aching need. “All work and no play…”

The gasp that pushed out of my lungs nearly whisked the candles off as Sherlock hauled me up by his hand and bent me over the desk.

“Should I teach you how to respect my time?” He snarled, throwing the skirts of my dress over my head like a cape of the midnight sky. Stars collapsed under my skin at the sensation of his touch exploring the curve of my bare ass. Talons ruptured the tiny blood vessels, squeezing with the affirmation of his ownership.

“No undergarments?” Sherlock growled dangerously while his thumb brushed over my silken entrance, toying with the rich elixir and smearing it further down my anticipating petals. I answered with a deep moan, stretching on this desk with a succumbing plea.

“You came here aimed at disturbing me while I work.”

Settling onto the surface of the desk, I reached forth one arm lazily and chuckled. “You are a great detective, I… oh!”

Something cold and solid caressed my dripping lips, driving between them in slow, calculated strokes. Throwing my head over my shoulder, I noticed Sherlock holding his cane against my sacred cove, staring at it as if I was yet another piece of evidence to be explored. The golden arched-tip pushed-slightly between my petals and entered just enough to make me hiss. For a mere second I wondered if he was going to fuck me using nothing but his cane.

“Look away; this is going to hurt.”

I hardly had time to protest when the first smack hit the pillow of my cheek. A wheeze of disgrace shot from my throat, husky and embarrassing, but not as degrading as the sting the metal left at my burning backside.

“Bad girl,” Sherlock ticked his tongue and lifted the cane midway in the air, a flare of noxious desire bursting in his pale-blue orbs. This time I turned away and shut my eyes, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned dead-white. If only it did anything to dull the pain, the sting was even more prominent, shooting all the way up to my spine where it coiled and forced a strident yip from my clamped lips.

Yet the throb in my cunt was unmissable.

Sherlock knew very well that the hurt allied with pleasure, enhancing it even, like his powdery magic dust.

Another smack and my nails scratched at the wood. Like a sinner nun indulging her own beating, I rode the waves of pain as they broke onto shores abundant with pleasure. There were hidden cracks in our public figure, the place where I burnt and Sherlock ascended as we pried our claws into mortal deadly sins. My senses rose to conflict with every smack and Sherlock took joy in every involuntary squirm of my body.

Tongue pressed between his lips, he hummed as he admired his handiwork, painting my ass in obscene hues of violence. “Had enough? Or want to see which will break first, the rod or your arrogance?” Sherlock chided and pinched my sore cheek to further increase the pain.

Embers whispered beneath my flesh, my legs jolted from the intense beating and by god, the trickle of my juices rolling down the back of my thighs made even a sultry woman such as myself drown in white shame.

Sherlock’s breath was a heavy guttural waft. His cane dropped to the floor and I heard the sound of metal clicking as he fumbled with his belt. I would be damned if I let him fuck me from behind. To have those eyes look away as he entered me was a vice I wouldn’t stand.

“No!” I yelled, bracing on my wobbly elbows as much as I could and turned to face him.

Sherlock’s glare widened, a chill of ice blew through his eyes and his pupils dilated like a crazed feline. “You’re saying no to me?”

“Yes!” I heaved and reached my hands to cradle his skull, pushing myself against the hardness of his body and forcing my lips on his. My kiss was feral, bruising the plush skin on and around his mouth, nibbling and biting until we tasted iron on our tongues. It was not long before I was shoved against the wall, our mouths still united, sharing one breath.

Or rather stealing it from one another.

We were pleasingly unequal. Sherlock was all iron and stone; a bulky, tall man who could tear me apart with his bare hands. I was a little lush thing, so tender, so easily bruised. Despite his power, the desire to claim the tiny wet hole between my legs was unquenchable, reducing him to a savage thing that spoke in raw inarticulate sounds.

He tore his mouth from mine and swept me up from the ground, hiking the skirts of my dress urgently to expose what he coveted the most. I felt the supple velvety texture of his hardness grind against my thigh, smearing the pearly drops of his arousal onto my skin. We both moaned at the sensation and moved to the rhythm dictated by our most primal instincts.

“You want my cock?” He growled and gnawed his teeth at my neck, biting deep enough to break through the skin. I whined in pain, my voice rising a pitch as I writhed against him to ignite the smallest of frictions and serve the demon of desire in me.

“Fuck me!” I begged, sliding my fingers through the mass of soft curls and tugging them with need.

Answering my plea, Sherlock speared into my unruly cunt, brutally spreading me open like he would tear the petals from a flower. I yipped into his luscious hair, my nails tearing into his nape as his intrusion claimed everything my body had to offer. I always found it odd how my flesh would resist and beg for him at the same time, my succulent canal fighting to push him by instinct yet he only further rutted into me. He reached his hands to my sore ass to squeeze my cheeks apart.

“Such a tight little harlot,” he groaned, engulfed by my garden of mysteries. Moaning so loudly, our duet reverberated through the corridors of the house. His lashes fluttered with ecstasy as he pulled back only to force me down on his imposing cock, attempting to rip through my denial. Or it was to tame me as I clenched around his girth, accepting and resisting him at the same time. I was nothing but a vessel for him to fill, and he did so with a fiery passion, glaring straight to my eyes while thrusting deep and hard into me.

Books fell from the shelves nearby as we battled against the wall, my legs sliding up and down his waist, spreading helplessly in the air until my boots pressed into his arse. One of his hands reached for my corset, tugging on the ludicrous outfit to expose my breast. Ravenous, he licked his bloodstained lips, giving me a stare that made my cunt clutch him harder before he sank his fangs to pierce cavities in my tit.

“No!!!” I cried out and gasped as he thrust deeper to punish me for my protest. His heavy cock hit a spot so deep inside me that tears instantly emerged and fell down my cheeks, the pang bringing through a spasm of odd relief.

Blood and saliva smeared along my cleavage as he dragged his lips further, licking and then kissing every patch he bruised. I moaned breathlessly, throwing my head back against the wall as his nimble fingers surveyed my neck, laying small threats to show me how easy he could simply suspend my very basic need.

But my survival instincts already flew out the window the moment he penetrated me.

His lips hovered above mine as he fucked deep into my body, our cries creating an obscure symphony as he continuously slammed into my hilt, harder and more urgent with every plunge. The tears that fell down my cheeks were tainted with the conflicting aphrodisiac that pain brought through. In that instant I was whole, gratified by the friction created of the collision of our wet organs.

“Do it!” I gasped and nodded through glossy stares, swallowing hard to gesture what he already knew. With a swift snap of his hands, his fingers were bruising on my neck and he slammed into me at a furious pace, giving no care for my broken screams.

Euphoria tore through my soul, crashing like hot waves of eternal fire. I came apart around his thick rod crying for God and Satan at once. Sherlock never slowed down, not even as he felt the tightening of my ring around him. It only made him fuck me harder, burying his face at my collarbone, chasing his own rapture at a punishing speed, grunting like a beast. Finally, he shuddered and pumped me full of his thick, silky milk. The muscles of his behind flexed and he ground his hot load into my warm cavern, making sure I received every drop. My hands reached to squeeze his taut ass as my legs clutched him still, wanting to keep him inside me.

As if he had any intentions of leaving as he moaned and spasmed inside me.

Smoke filled the room as few of the candles died; the scent of ash and the musk of our sex seeped through our noses while we remained entwined, shaking in each other’s grasp. Breathless and damp with sweat, Sherlock lifted his face from my neck and glanced at me looking so vulnerable, almost appearing lost. I moved my trembling hands back to his face, my thumbs caressing his sharp cheeks.

“I know I am harsh…” he murmured, his eyes digging into my heart with nothing but a gaze of despair, “but please don’t ever leave me.”

My face fell at the sound of his words, my lips parting with awe. My detective could solve the most outrageous crimes, and yet he couldn’t realise I was shackled to him for all eternity.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x ofc #henry holmes #sherlock holmes

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billiedeanhwrd · 3 years

Text

as long as you are with me, there's no place i'd rather be

billie dean howard x fem!reader

summary: when your conservative parents kick you out for dating billie, she is more than happy to take you in🤍

warnings: age difference, mention of homophobic parents

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank u sm for all the positive feedback on my last fic!! i'm still new to this and learning, but i'm having a lot of fun writing <3 i apologize for any grammar errors, as english is not my first language. i still hope you enjoy reading my new fic, i'd describe it as a comfort fic with lots of fluff!<33

gif credits to @honeybeawhore

billie was lying on her couch with a glass of her favorite rosé in one hand and a copy of one flew over the cuckoo's nest in the other. It had been a long and exhausting day at work and she really needed some quality time to herself.

the weather was terrible today, lucky for her and her crew that they shot everything inside today. billie could tell in the morning that a storm was coming, and now it was pouring rain.

the sound of the rain hitting the ground and the crackling of her fireplace created the perfect reading ambience. just as she was about to turn to a page in her book, her doorbell startled her. who the hell was standing in front of her mansion in this weather? at this time?

she checked the monitor connected to her security cameras that she had built in next to the front door only to see you completely soaked, and visibly freezing on her doorstep.

she unlocked the door as quickly as she could and ushered you inside. "y/n, what are you doing here?"

"i'm sorry this is the only place i could go", you managed to stutter out. you had been dating the medium for a few months now, but had never actually stayed over at her place. you were special to billie and she didn't want to risk ruining the connection between you two by going to fast. she wanted this relationship to be different from the ones she's had before, and given your rather big age difference, taking it slow seemed right to both of you.

"what hap-you know what that's not important right now, let's get you warmed and dried up first"

you followed your girlfriend into her luxurious gold-white themed bathroom and watched her as she searched for the softest towel she owned.

"here, feel free to take a hot shower first" she handed you a towel, "i'll lay out some comfortable clothes for you on the bed in the guest room, it's the room right next to this one." you nodded thankfully. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen, sweetheart" she smiled at you with that loving look in her coffee colored eyes that warmed your heart so much, you almost didn't need the shower.

you entered billie's guest bedroom feeling as if you'd just left a spa. the medium had a colossal collection of all kinds of sensual soaps, shampoos and moisturizers in her bathroom and you came out smelling like a scented candle. her guest bedroom was beautifully decorated, it was clear the older woman had great taste and invested a lot of time in the design of her home.

after drying yourself and putting on dry underwear, you glanced towards the bed. billie had laid out a baby blue burberry hoodie with matching sweatpants for you. you felt nervous thinking about wearing her clothes, especially these, not only because they were obviously expensive but also because you had seen her wear this before, you knew she liked this set and you were afraid of ruining it. all of your negative thoughts left your mind though when you carefully put on the comfortable clothes and let her sweet smell engulf you.

you treaded lightly down the stairs to the kitchen where billie was waiting for you with a freshly brewed cup of chamomile tea. she gestured for you to sit down on the high chair facing her at the countertop.

"you look cute in my clothes". you blushed. "thank you, billie, but you didn't have to give me something so costly, anything would've been alright"

"nonsense, darling" she replied, "only the best for you". she gently squeezed your hand. you looked at her like some kind of love-struck teenager, but before you could say anything, she spoke up again.

"now tell me, what caused you to walk through a storm all by yourself in the dark? you could've gotten hurt", the worried look in her eyes made your heart ache.

you looked down in embarrassment at your other hand, that wasn't covered by billie's, but placed in your lap. "my parents kicked me out". billie raised an eyebrow at you. "i know living with your parents in your late 20s isn't ideal, but i couldn't afford to move out yet" she nodded along, signaling you to continue.

"and i stupidly left my phone in the living room and when i got a new notification they saw my lockscreen...", billie tilted her head questioningly "what's your lockscreen, y/n?".

you were to shy to tell her, so you got your phone out of the hoodie's front pocket and slid it toward the medium. you heard billie chuckle,

"aww, since when am i your lockscreen, babygirl?"

you smiled sheepishly. "since that photo was taken"

your wallpaper was a picture of billie holding you close and kissing your cheek. it was taken at your first official date, she had brought you to disney land after you expressed your interest in going there and even if it might not be her thing, seeing the joy in your face and knowing she was responsible for it, made it totally worth it.

both of you looked so happy on that picture, it bewildered billie why anyone would get upset about it and you could tell, by the confused look on her face.

"i didn't tell my parents i was seeing you, they would've never approved... clearly", you explained. billie was about to ask if their issue was the age difference between you two, something she was still a little insecure about, when you continued speaking, "i knew they didn't accept gay people, but i never thought they'd set me out on the street... their own daughter", you swiped the tears away that had escaped your eyes. "i'm really sorry about showing up uninvited this late, but you were the only person i could and wanted to go to"

billie quickly made her way over to you from the other side of the countertop. "come here", you practically fell into her arms and she was more than ready to catch you, literally and metaphorically speaking.

you didn't know what exactly had set you off, telling the story about how you were suddenly homeless or the fact that for the first time in your life, you had someone you could really count on, who was there for you when you needed them and didn't make you feel like a burden for showing emotion, but you were sobbing in billie's arms. she didn't mind though, she held you close to her heart and let you cry your feelings out.

when your breathing slowed down and the crying subsided, she pressed a kiss on your head and tenderly took your face into her hands. "i'm so so sorry they did that to you, no one deserves to be abandoned by their own parents for loving someone", she softly swiped the remaining tears on your face away, "you can stay with me, as long as you want to, sweetheart"

your eyes lit up, "really? billie you don't have to let me live with you if it makes you uncomfortable just because you pity me...", you tried to argue

"i wouldn't offer if i was uncomfortable, darling, and i don't pity you, i care about you"

"okay" you reluctantly agreed, still unsure about living with her when you've never even spent the night together. billie could read you so well, she knew exactly what you were worried about.

"honey, this doesn't mean we stop taking this slow, okay? we don't have to do anything tonight or anytime you're not ready"

you nearly melted at her considerate words, "thank you, billie", you lovingly squeezed her in a quick hug.

"of course", she squeezed you back.

you yawned against her, which made billie chuckle and check her watch.

"it's already past midnight, what do you say we go to bed now, hm?" you nodded sleepily. "would you like to stay with me or sleep in the guest bedroom?" she asked kindly.

you thought about it for a second and then timidly replied, "i think i'd like to stay with you, if that's okay"

"it's more than okay, love"

billie stood up and grabbed your hand to guide you to her bedroom, which wasn't necessary , you'd follow her voluntarily anywhere but you definitely weren't complaining.

"wait for me in the bathroom, right there" she pointed behind you, "i'll bring you some comfy pajamas". billie swiftly entered the room in front of you, which you assumed was her bedroom and came out with a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. "i hope this okay", you nodded and made your way to the bathroom to change.

after changing out of billie's clothes into a new set of her clothes that luckily also smelled like her, you headed towards her bedroom. she was already waiting for you when you arrived, but you had to stop in your tracks to admire the view.

billie's exquisite taste in interior design was again displayed in her elegant, yet cosy looking bedroom, her cream colored walls matched perfectly with her blush colored king sized bed, armchair and lamps. but what captivated you the most was the woman in this resplendent room. billie was wearing a lacy, low cut, rose gold, satin pajama set, which made her look even more sexy and at the same time angelic than she usually did.

she patted the space beside her, eager for you to join her. you switched off the lights and climbed into her bed. billie was laying on her side, turned towards you and instinctively took you into her arms when you settled into the bed, you embraced the older woman and possessively placed your leg on top of hers.

"goodnight, billie" you whispered before sleep was able to consume you. "goodnight, honey" she whispered back.

you nuzzled her neck affectionately and placed your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. the storm was still going strong outside and you were overwhelmed with love and gratitude for your girlfriend. ending the day cuddled up in her bed was not something you expected. Sure, today started off horribly, but at the end of the day, you were safe and warm, next to someone who really cared for you, and you wouldn't want to exchange that for anything in the world.

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kamilah-the-bloodqueen · 3 years

Text

Chapter I: The Detective

Notes: I have decided that I am going to rewrite my Mafia AU with (hopefully) better quality overall (plot, exposition, character development, angst, slowburn, etc). If not for the sake of better quality - then let’s just say it’s for my own entertainment and I’ll select a different name for this AU. I am still working on ‘Remember Me’ and ‘The Cafe’ which are also 2 AUs I have in the works in addition to the dozens of one-shots and fic requests I also am working on - this AU just came to my mind and it’s flowing really well so I’m writing it now. I’ll put the rest of my rambling in the tags.

Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy Donovan)

Word Count: 2111 (Aiming for 4000+ words per chapter after this one)

Tags: @samanthadalton @cloud9in @shows-simp-card @alleycat97 @veenast @maskedalienfreak (If you’d like to be added/removed please let me know - also specify if you’d only like to be tagged for this series or all my work etc etc.)

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Graphic Concepts, Death (Please be cautious - the theme is pretty dark and some of these chapters will be graphic so if you feel hesitant at all feel free to skip those chapters - I’ll try to make the story flow even if you do skip them :) )

“Stay with me, don’t leave me please god no please...Ashton...no…” Amy sobbed as she held her dying brother in her arms, his blood spilling onto her white blouse as she held his head close to her heart. She desperately placed a hand over the bullet wound in his chest as tears rolled down her face. Her heart broke with every small gasp that left his paled lips, she cupped his face in an urgent attempt to meet his eyes one last time as she said goodbye to her best friend. “Damn it...you...I love you..I love you okay? I’ve always loved you...god I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry…I...I’m going to avenge you...I swear I will..” She rocked back and forth with his corpse in her arms as the distant sound of police sirens grew nearer and nearer.

“Amy...promise...promise…” Ashton gasped as his body grew colder by the second as blood spurted from his mouth, “promise you’ll live your life for me…” His low voice faded into a whisper and then to silence as police cars pulled up to the heartbreaking scene. Several FBI agents stepped out of their vehicles, most of them moving around the site and keeping their distance from Amy, only one of them stepping towards her as she spoke in a soft whisper.

“I...I promise...Ashton…”

The soft footsteps of the agent stopped behind her as she let out a long shaky breath, her arms gently lowering her brother’s corpse onto the pavement.

“Marco...I...I have to avenge him.” Amy stood with confidence, her sadness replaced by a burning fury that was unparalleled to any anger she had ever felt in her life. Her bloody hands curled into tight fists as she reached for her gun, glocking it and placing it into her messy hidden holster.

“Amy...just...breathe...maybe it’s better for someone else to take this one. We don’t want you to get hurt or to make any rash decisions-” Marco placed his hands in the air as Amy furiously turned to him, her brown eyes burning right through him as she stepped towards him.

“My brother was just killed..no...brutally murdered by the Mafia and you’re telling me I can’t take the case so that I may avenge my brother? You think that I can’t handle this line of work Marco?” Amy’s voice was calm despite her posture, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she let her shoulders relax. “I can assure you, if anyone should take this case, it should be me. I’m young but I’m experienced - I come from a long line of FBI agents and you damn well know I can handle myself in a fight.”

“Well, it’s not my decision to make but I’m sure we can talk to Otto about it. He likes you and he knows you’re effective - I don’t doubt that he’ll let you handle this case...and that’s why I suggested for you not to take it but I suppose you’re also our best agent for the job…” Marco lowered his voice as Amy sighed with a soft chuckle, her soft eyes meeting his before she began walking towards the black jeep.

“Marco, if you thought I was a driven investigator when it’s not personal...you have no idea what I am capable of when it is personal…” Amy popped the jeep door open and started the engine as Marco frowned through the driver’s window. They exchanged a silent nod of agreement as Amy sped off towards their headquarters while Marco turned back to the bloody scene, letting out a soft whisper as he regained his composure.

“...that’s what I’m afraid of Donovan…”

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Amy parked the jeep in her executive parking space with a screech, as her heavy footsteps rang through the empty garage. She sighed to herself as she approached HQ, making sure her gun had its safety on and that she looked somewhat composed despite her blood stained clothes and obviously puffy eyes. She pushed the doors open as everyone turned to her, their faces stricken with shock and fear as she strided towards Otto’s office.

“Otto.” She threw the door open as a sturdy old man looked up from his disorganized desk, his gaze shifting from shock to empathetic as Amy leaned over with both her hands resting on the desk.

“Donovan I know what you’re going to ask and the case is yours.” Otto met her gaze as Amy let out a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders slump as she seated herself across from the man.

“Thank god, I thought I was going to have to threaten you or something. Do you have the files for me?”

“They’ve already been sent to your office, along with proper equipment, your team debriefing, and a generous amount of funding - so you better be the woman for the job.”

“Perfect, you’re always a step ahead of me when it comes to these types of things Otto.”

“That’s the only way we’d survive Amy. Now, onto more important matters, are you alright darlin? That...when Maria heard the gunshots and the screaming...and then the crying...we...we all knew what was happening. If you need a few days, or even a week or longer before you start...just let us know...no need to jump right to it if you need the time to grieve.” Otto leaned back in his leather chair, his hands gently placed over Amy’s as he scrunched his nose in an attempt to shift his glasses up.

“I appreciate it Otto, but if I’m going to be effective, it’s going to be best to start working now while the tracks are fresh. Can I get Mituso to run diagnostics on any fingerprints on that gun? I doubt we need an autopsy but I don’t mind letting Ashton’s body be studied for a few days before the funeral.”

“Alright Donovan, if you say you’re fine then I believe you. Yes I can get Mistuso to run an Autopsy, why don’t you head to your office to clean yourself up and then debrief. If we get any information we’ll email it to you and let you know, meanwhile if you come to any conclusions on your own about the case, well, you know how to handle it.”

“I’ll see myself out then, thank you Otto.”

Amy softly shut his office door before striding to the elevators and hitting the ‘up’ button. A tall man approached her from behind and placed a firm hand on her shoulders as the elevator dinged upon arrival. She slowly stepped through the doors, her hand hitting the button for the eighth floor as she rested her head on the wall. Once the elevator doors opened she made her way towards her private bathroom, allowing herself to undress and change into a similar outfit, except the blouse, pants, shoes and everything else was black. She sized herself up in the mirror, satisfied in her appearance before she made her way towards her office. The doors opened after she scanned her photo ID and tears rolled down her face as she met the eyes of the man slumped at her desk.

“Jackson...I…” Amy hurried to hug him, knowing it was as hard on him as it was on her.

“Ames...did...did he suffer? Tell me he didn’t suffer…” Jackson’s eyes dripped with tears as Amy held him close.

“I...if he did...I...just don’t think about it Jackson…”

“I loved him. We were all like family, I...god Amy I was going to propose to him and now I’ll never get the chance…”

“Jackson...I’m...I...I’m sorry…”

Tears streamed down their faces as they stood there together, the sound of their sniffles and sobs filling the office before they pulled apart.

“Otto doesn’t usually let someone from my department work in cases like this but...he let me petition and I’m in your squad.”

“Jackson...can...okay…”

“I can handle it Amy. If you’re allowed to work on this case...then I think I should be able to work on it too.”

“Fair point. We need to start now though, despite our grief we’re going to get the best leads while it’s fresh. I want these bastards to pay for what they did with blood.” Amy slammed her fist into the table as Jackson slid her a hefty stack of beige files.

“I assume these are the leads we have right now?”

“Yes, although there’s not as many as there appears to be. We know who killed him, and we know who he works for but the issue is...well...I’ll let you have a look for yourself. I’m going to go talk to Otto about upgrading my rifles, I’m going to need more than a sniper rifle for this case.”

“Alright, call me if you need me later Jackson. I’ll be here all night looking over all of this.”

“Yeah. See you Amy.”

“Jackson?”

“Stay safe out there okay? You’re the last person I’ve got now…”

“You too Amy, I’ll rendezvous with you tomorrow.”

The door clicked shut as Amy rested her head in her hands. She winced softly as all of her physical injuries caught up to her, her legs growing sore from all the chasing, her arms sore from the hand to hand combat, the cuts and bruises on her torso and head finally coming to light as she felt a wave of exhaustion overtake her.

“There ain’t no rest for the wicked.” Amy mumbled to herself as she pulled out her coffee maker and brewed herself a generous portion of coffee. As she finished pouring the coffee, she caught sight of the frame resting on her desk - with a photo of her with her family at the beach. She shortly found herself breaking down after, as she held the frame in her chest, her whole body shaking with anger, sadness, fear and shock as she reminisced on when her family wasn’t all dead. “I...how can I do this…? No...I have to do this...or I have to die trying…”

Amy shakily brought herself to her feet, gently placing the photo back onto her desk as she sipped on her coffee and began scanning the files. There was no question about the assailant, or his employer - it was the level of difficulty that was the issue. Killing a lower level hitman in the mafia was no fuss for the FBI - those targets were messy and unimportant to the mafia, so there was no major backfire after those eliminations. Amy opened the four files that laid on her desk, taking in the four faces that rested within each.

Antonio Santiago

Marksman - Hitman (Level 8)

Description: Male; Strong build with broad shoulders; Brown hair - usually shaggy or slicked back; Right handed; Tends to dress in black and white with a leather jacket; Light Brown eyes

Age: 26

Height: 5’11

Warnings: Typically carries two handguns, a concealed knife, peppery spray, taser and has assault rifles hidden within his vehicles

Total Assassinations: 27

Amy picked up his photo, taking in the face of her brother’s murderer - his description was pretty generic but after taking in the photo Amy knew she’d be able to recognize his nose on the spot.

“It’s crooked, oooh when I get my hands on you Antonio - I’m going to punch you in the nose so fucking hard it’ll be straight. I’ll make sure of it.” Amy calmed herself down, knowing she’d lose her leads if she lost control and didn’t plan accordingly. She closed his file and pushed it aside as she reached for the other person file, waiting to read over the two previous incident cases later.

Kamilah Sayeed

Primary Mafia Arms Dealer and Top Assassin

Description: Female; Lean and Muscular build; Medium length brown hair - either in a ponytail or worn down; Brown eyes; Ambidextrous; Tends to dress in a black or maroon suit with heels

Age: 30

Height: 6’0

Warnings: Carries two concealed handguns at all times; Usually accompanied by two or more discrete bodyguards; UNSAFE TO ENGAGE ALONE; Very skilled in hand to hand combat; Seductive and Flirtatious; Ruthless and Merciless

Total Assassinations: 288

Amy gazed at the woman’s image, captivated by the depth of her eyes as she narrowed her sight. The woman was beautiful, but deadly and Amy knew that.

“It’s always the pretty ones that are psycho…” Amy laughed lightly as she folded the file and collapsed into her chair. She closed her eyes and rested her hands on her desk as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah the bloodqueen post #okay so heres the thing is that I really wanted to be able to improve this series #and im not writing it because i dont like the original version #i just think seeing the changes i make is cool as well as how i have changed as a writer #plus this fic had my creative juices flowing #and when i write one fic it usually means my other inspo follows behind #because ill get an idea for a chapter that doesnt fit in the current series so i shift to another #and they all kind of feed into each other which is nice #but if this fic flops then I NEVER POSTED IT AND IT NEVER EXISTED #i swear i dont count notes but it can def hurt my confidence #but tbh its also tumblr and i dont care that much #if that makes any sense #but yes reblogs are appreciated and so are likes and comments make my heart happy #like please give me feedback #what did you like #what didnt you like #what do you want to see #what do you want to see less of #what do you think will happen #i love that shit okay so dont ever feel like im not reading them #also i apologize for such a long wait on my series and fics #i like the inspo to come naturally so it flows better #and i feel like those spontaneous fics do better and are written better than the ones i force myself to write #i do plan to finish all of them #anyways i am also sorry for such a long tag #my god i like to talk a lot #im also thinking of rewriting BB smut and fluff scenes #also gonna rewrite FA with my spins and shit if i can

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cupidcreates · 3 years

Note

akdsfjkdksj I wasn’t expecting you to churn all this content out so quick (´∀｀)♡ omgosh you went above and beyond with the love language ask!! I love to see your interpretation of these characters so what do the cast consider the perfect date to be? low key vs high key? local vs out of town? -😌✨

Thank you! I’m glad you liked the love language post, sorry it took so long lol. As for their favorite dates I think I’ll do the same characters here:

Katsuki Bakugou

Rock Climbing/Hiking Dates

Canonically one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do is go rock climbing so he’d definitely want to bring a SO along every so often. If you’re an athletic person and enjoy being outdoors this will be a very fun date! If you’re not a very athletic person (as many of us aren’t) Katsuki will settle for just going for a short hike along a trail. Katsuki gets super talkative on hikes as well, as you’re walking he’ll just be talking about literally anything! From Hero work to his friends/family, to things that have been bothering him lately. Whatever is on his mind he’ll share with you while you’re both out, which is incredibly helpful as he doesn’t ever discuss his feelings at any other point in time. Plus it gives him a chance to show off how fit he is in front of you, which you both always consider a plus.

Izuku Midoriya

Movie Dates

A Classic, perhaps a little plain even, but Izuku absolutely loves to take you to the movies. He loves everything about the date, from discussing what you’re about to watch, to getting the snacks, to whispering in the back row (if you’re the type to get annoyed by talking during a movie he’ll keep this to a bare minimum). He loves being able to snuggle up next to you and hold your hand while discussing the finer points of the plot (If you’ll tolerate talking of course). Don’t think he’s being innocent here though, he definitely uses the darkness surrounding you as cover as he runs his hands up your thighs. Unbeknownst to most, Izuku is actually very much a horndog. He conceals it very well but he’s only barely capable of keeping his hands to himself when it comes to his SO. Any chance he gets to touch you he’ll take it, more than likely this is why his second favorite type of date is usually a stay-in date...

Shoto Todoroki

Dinner Dates

Another Classic, Shoto loves to treat his SO to expensive treats with his favorite being food-related dates at lavish restaurants. Not a week goes by that he doesn’t take you out on the town for the night at some place you’re sure you couldn’t even afford a glass of water at. It’s almost never the same place twice either, Shoto is actually a foodie and enjoys trying new types of cuisine whenever he can. He’s got a whole list of places he wants to take you, and if they require reservations he’s already got them locked down. If you love eating Shoto is your man, he’ll make sure you’re set with a wide variety of foods to choose from and always remembers any place you happen to be partial to.

Denki Kaminari

Amusement/Water Park Dates

Denki is a fun-loving guy through and through, he knows how to have a good time and wherever you happen to go he makes sure you do too. That being said, his absolute favorite place to take you is to an amusement or water park. It’s not often you two get to go, as you’re both very busy with your respective hero work most days, but when you do it’s a day-long affair. You’re there from the minute the park opens to the second it shuts down, riding as many rides as you can manage, eating greasy garbage food, and making sure to strike the dumbest poses for any rides that take pictures. You’ve got a whole scrapbook of these photos by now, their ridiculousness increasing with each new one added.

Eijirou Kirishima

Beach Dates

You wouldn’t expect Eijirou Kirishima to be a Thalassophile (Def. Person who loves the ocean) but he is. He adores being on the beach and it’s his preferred location for a date. You’ve spent many a sunny afternoon seaside with Eijirou, building sandcastles, chasing crabs, and just enjoying the ocean. One memorable afternoon you found yourselves right next to a sea turtles nest and you got to watch the babies pop out of the sand and scurry towards the ocean, assisted by Eijirou as he chased off the seagulls looking to make them a meal. Eijirou also enjoys surfing, and if you know how to do so he’ll get you matching boards so you can ride the waves together. If you’re not partial to surfing he’ll be sure to pull out all his tricks while you watch him, he’ll even let you onto his board with him so you two can just float together by the shore. Of course you two can’t go to the beach year round, but when you can you’re both sure to make the most of these sunny days, even if he does get an awful sunburn by the end of it.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Gaming Dates

Hitoshi isn’t what one would call ‘social’ when given the choice between going out for a night and staying home he’ll almost always choose the latter. So it’s expected that his favorite type of date is one where you two can stay inside and enjoy each others company. You both work so hard as Heros, why not spend your days off relaxing with one another? He can spend hours alone with you, preferably kicking your ass at Mario Party or some other multiplayer game. He doesn’t need anything except you, his consoles, and a pile of your favorite snacks to have a good time. That being said, if you want him to go out for a date the best way to convince him is to take him to some kind of arcade, especially if it’s a VR arcade. He feels a kind of nostalgic joy for these places and won’t hesitate to return and feel like a kid again. Plus it’s always nice to repeatedly prove to you that yes he is the champion of Dance Dance Revolution and you will never usurp this title from him.

Tamaki Amajiki

Park/Picnic Dates

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, Tamaki loves spending time outdoors; surrounded by and in awe of nature and it’s complex inner workings. He enjoys just taking time to appreciate the world around him, so dates where you can both relax outside and enjoy each other’s company are his favorite kind. He has a specific hill at his favorite park he likes to take you, bringing a lunch of all your favorite foods he sets you both up under the biggest shade tree for an afternoon. You both lay back on your worn picnic blanket and just cloudgaze, talking for hours about anything and everything. Much like Bakugou, Tamaki gets very talkative on these dates, discussing his week with you and anything new he might have learned over the course of it. He’s so very endearing on these dates its easy to fall silent and just listen to him for hours.

Mirio Togata

Crafting Dates

Mirio likes to have memorabilia from your dates, so you can expect a lot of dates to center around making things. More than just your average painting classes Mirio has also taken you to sculpting, woodworking, and glass blowing classes to name a few. At the end of your dates you both exchange what you’ve made and Mirio absolutely adores anything you craft, regardless of its quality in your eyes. He puts his heart and soul into making you something and more often than not it turns out spectacularly. Mirio wasn’t as good with the ceramics class, but you love the warped vase he made (even if it was technically supposed to be a cup at the start, we’ve all been there). Mirio’s kept everything you made him and even has a shelf in his house just dedicated to what you’ve made, it makes him so happy to come home after a hard day of work and see physical memories of his time with you.

Keigo Takami

Aquarium/Zoo Dates

Underneath Keigo’s charming and charismatically upbeat personality lies a bitter and broken man, drained by his role in Hero Society and left an empty shell of his former self. Underneath that personality lies a kid who never got to have a proper childhood and desperately wants to make up for it. He now uses his dates with you to do just that; not that you mind of course, dates with Keigo are always fun and lighthearted and you love to see him truly enjoy himself for once. Keigo’s favorite places to go are definitely large and intricately designed Zoos and Aquariums. He loves to look at the painstakingly accurate and detailed natural habitats, make fun of the stranger animal names you find, and learn new information about foreign bird species. Loves to mimic their calls too, much to the irritation of the birds and the zoo employees. He makes it a point to always get you a stuffed animal at the end of the date, ensuring that you now have a massive collection of them sitting all around your room. You’re always kept up to date on any Zoo or Aquarium events thanks to Keigo, as he has a calendar dedicated to all the unique events they have going on throughout the year.

Touya Todoroki

Crash Dates

Dabi is...well he’s unpredictable at the best of times and it’s very rare that you two have time for anything even resembling a date (being an S class villain does make it hard to exist normally in society and do normal couple things but it ees what it ees). However, when he can take you one a date --well the term “date” is generous here- it’s never a dull one. You’re not sure how he does it but when you go out you always manage to end up somewhere Dabi could never get into naturally. From sold-out concerts, to stand up shows, to parties at lavish houses belonging to people you’ve never even heard of let alone met before; dates with Dabi are always somewhere you two definitely shouldn’t be. One memorable morning he took you to a country club where you got to each fancy exclusive rich people food and play a horrible facsimile of golf before you were eventually found and chased out. It’s always fun to see how long you two can crash an even before being found out.

Tomura Shigaraki

Cemetery/Haunted Places Dates

Tomura Shigaraki is a man who enjoys his space from other people, in his opinion the only good person is a dead one (unless he’s talking about you, of course). So it’s not abnormal for your dates to be in a place far away from others. Again the term “date” is being very generous, more often than not he’ll approach you, tell you to follow him, and you’ll wind up in some abandoned building or graveyard. Normally this would be cause for concern, as this is exactly what happens in horror movies before someone gets killed, but Tomura has a soft spot for you so your safety is ensured. Tomura loves to see a place reclaimed by nature, vines growing over a run down house or worn out gravestones breaking apart into chunks of marble with barely legible words on them. He doesn’t talk much on your dates, but will often give you a random bit of insight about him; like on one date where you both walked alongside abandoned train tracks at dusk and he told you about the dog he had as a child. He seeks no pity from you, and these dates are not the conventionally romantic type, but you enjoy being able to be with Tomura in a way no one else ever has or ever will.

#answered #mha #bnha #katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #eijiro kirishima #tamaki amajiki #mirio togata #keigo takami #mha hawks #touya todoroki #dabi #tomura shigaraki #this took forever to finish I'm so sorry lol #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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a-detraque-barista · 4 years

Text

How They Mark You

Mentions of mental illness, suggestive themes, stockholm syndrome (only in one of them), yandere themes, and prescribed drug use

This...This was A LOT longer than it needed to be. Like I am so s o r r y

Seokjin

Jin had never really had a reason to mark you. He always figured you being next to him whenever you went out was enough. Until today. The two of you were in the grocery store when Jin had noticed the same person down every aisle you two were in. He couldn't help but think that they were following you. Why would they not? It's possible that they see the same endearing qualities in you as he does. But of course, he wouldn't let them have you if they think they could.

He brushed it off until you were checking out and the same person was right behind you in line. From here, Jin could tell that they were a male, around six foot, and coming alarmingly close to you.

"Darling, what's my pin again? I keep forgetting it," it was all Jin could think of for you to come closer to him and type it in for him while he glared at the man. He supposed the fact that he was near wasn't enough for people to get the picture. So, he quickly brought you home.

After putting all of the groceries away, he turned to you, "Did you notice the creep that was following us in the store?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to say anything cause I knew that would upset you," you shrugged before sitting on the couch before patting the spot next to you for Jin to sit.

Having an idea, Jin leaned his body into yours to push you down with a grin on his face, "I think I know just what to do to keep people away from you."

You tilted your head which gave him room to lean down and start leaving small bites along your neck and collarbone. You had to stay like that for almost a half hour before he finally deemed it enough.

Yoongi

Yoongi was only really jealous before he ruined your life. Before he made you completely rely on him he was always possessive to the point where he wanted to mark every inch of your skin. But now that you're hear with him, he never had that feeling again.

He rarely let you leave your room let alone the house. Although, every once in a while he would let you go out to the back yard for a few minutes.

It was one of those rare days as you laid on the grass and felt the nice summer breeze on your face. Yoongi had to take a call and went back inside when the neighbor had accidentally threw his ball into your yard. He peaked over the fence to see you laying there, not too far from his ball. He had never seen you before, only the man that he thought was living alone.

"Hey, can you pass me my ball back please?" he called out to you causing you to startle awake.

You hadn't even realized you were dozing off until the man said something. Getting up you walked over and handed him his ball before turning around to lay on the ground.

Curious, he started to talk to you. Asking questions about who were and why he hasn't seen you around. You began to enjoy it before Yoongi came out and grabbed your hand to drag you back inside.

Never had he been more furious than in that moment. Not only had someone dared to talk to you, but he even had the audacity to look over the fence at you.

The next day Yoongi let you sit out wearing a necklace with his initials and a shirt with his name on it for the neighbor to see.

Hoseok

Well...Hoseok has already marked every inch of your skin during your daily cuddle sessions. So it baffled him when someone cat called you while walking past. Your neck was covered in dark purple and red marks. How could he not see that you were taken????

The voice that has been living in his head for years gave him a few notes on how to handle it. It ended in you having to hold Hoseok back by his arm until he finally let up on beating the man's face in. You immediately took him home and locked the door.

This wasn't the first time something like this has happened. Last time the police got involved but with Hoseok's history of mental illness he was able to get out of it quite easily. Just a new prescription of medication that he refuses to take unless you personally give them to him.

So deciding on skipping lunch, Hoseok lead you straight to the bedroom and pinned you down on the bed.

"I'm sorry, jagi. But we're going to have to wait until dinner to eat," he sighed as he kissed his way down your chest.

He kept his promise and you didn't have dinner until almost midnight with a fresh layer of hickeys and cum threatening to drip down your thigh.

Namjoon

You weren't even allowed to leave the house, let alone come in contact with someone. Namjoon was always the one to go out and get whatever you or he needed. It definitely wasn't your preferred living style but what else could you do? Namjoon was able to convince you who you needed and didn't need in your life. Leading you to live with him without anyone knowing.

You were sure nobody knew of your existence except for the people you used to associate yourself with. Which also meant you getting lonely most of the time while Namjoon was out doing whatever he was doing.

But today, you wanted pizza for dinner and Namjoon didn't feel like leaving the house. So Namjoon called and ordered it for delivery. Normally, Namjoon would be the one to answer the door in any situation. However, he had gone to the bathroom right before the delivery guy knocked on the door.

You had thought that it would be no harm to answer the door and pay for the food. You didn't want the delivery man to end up leaving and you would have to wait another hour for Namjoon to cook dinner. So you grabbed the money off the counter and opened the door. Smiling, you exchanged the money for the pizza and was about to close the door when the man began to talk.

"You're really cute. Are you single by any chance?" his question made you freeze and stare at him wide-eyed.

"Uh-"

"Sorry to burst your bubble but I'm the boyfriend. Now, if you'll excuse us we're going to enjoy our dinner and each others company. Have a nice night," Namjoon had been smiling the whole time, up until he closed the door. "What have I told you about answering the door?"

"To not answer it."

"And what did you do?"

"Answered it." Namjoon always did this when you broke a rule. It made you feel small and immature when he spoke to you like this.

"Sit down so I can give you your punishment."

That's exactly what you did. You've learned what happens if you don't. The last time you were disobedient you woke up the day after and you could barely walk and you had scars from the knife he used.

You were surprised to feel Namjoon's mouth on your neck after he pushed you to lay on the couch. Usually you would feel some sort of sharp object. But the closest thing to sharp was Namjoon's teeth nipping at your skin.

"I almost forgot how it felt to be jealous."

Jimin

Jimin rarely let you out of his sight, even if you didn't know he was there. He was the most obsessive out of all the boys. He was more lenient on letting you leave the house, but he almost always followed you. The only time he didn't was when he had to take care of important matters.

And because he was so obsessed, he always had something on you that showed you were his. Either the necklace he bought you or the marks from the night before. Or even his hoodie that was so adorable on you he was running low on his favorites to wear outside.

Yesterday, you had accidentally broken the necklace with Jimin's name on it. You were too scared to tell him so you hid it and pretended like nothing happened. You were just hoping he wouldn't notice before you went out with your friends in an hour.

If he did notice, then he didn't say anything. So you tried to forget about the guilt and anxiety that built up inside you to enjoy the little time you had. Jimin may be okay with letting you see your friends, but it wasn't often. He usually guilt tripped you so you would stay home. And it always worked.

Jimin noticed right away that you didn't have your necklace. So before he followed you he looked for it in your shared bedroom. He found the multiple pieces hidden in your drawer beside the bed. He was hurt and furious at the same time.

Quickly, he put on his black hoodie and snap back to where he knew you and your friends were. He may have been livid but he can't let you find out about him following you everywhere. You would be upset with him and he could never live with himself if you got mad at him. He watched for the two hours he allowed you to be outside.

The two hours were almost up and he was going to head home when he saw someone walk up to you in the cafe. He wasn't an employee, so why was he approaching you?

Jimin pieced everything together when the guy handed you a piece of paper that no doubt had his number on it. Before Jimin could storm across the street and into the building, he watched as you dropped the paper in your water and grabbed your things.

His heart was pounding as he walked up to you and grabbed your arm. He spun you around and kissed you on the lips passionately.

"That's my jagi."

Taehyung

Taehyung had always loved taking photos of you. He had a special collection of photos of just you. First, it started in his closet where he would just tape them onto the wall. Then, it escalated into him having to clean out the spare bedroom and use that for the growing number of pictures. He still kept it up even after becoming friends with you. Of course, he would make sure the spare bedroom was locked whenever you came over to his apartment. He didn’t want you to get scared and leave him.

Once the two of you had started dating, he began to take photos of you with his phone whenever you spent time together. Most of the pictures ended up being posted on his Instagram account.

The two of you had a shared account so Taehyung could keep track of who you talked to and what posts you liked.

That also meant he knew if someone would comment on a pic of you. Usually either you or Taehyung would ignore it and delete it. But there was a certain comment that made his eye twitch in annoyance.

The photo was of you in a tank top and sweatpants while cooking something on the stove. Taehyung loved that photo. You had been making bulgogi with rice right when he had gotten home from work. He couldn’t help but to pull out his phone and make the shutter go off, causing you to side-eye him.

It wasn’t until the next day when you were mindlessly scrolling on Instagram and you had gotten the notification. Taehyung was still at work so you were just laying in bed. Curiously, you clicked on the heart at the bottom of your screen and tapped on the notification.

i wish she was my girl. at least if she was with me her hair would be a mess and hickeys covered her neck. lol

You internally go Ooohhhhhhh shiiiiiit. You had tried to delete the comment but Taehyung had just walked in so you quickly turn your phone off and tossed it to the side.

“Hey babe, how was work?” you asked.

“Could’ve been better. How was your day?” he began to change from his work clothes into just a pair of black sweats before coming to lay down with you.

“Boring. Why’d you lay down? Don’t you want dinner?”

“Not at the moment.”

You looked at him, confused as he straddled your waist. His hand came to rest on each side of your head on the pillow. He leaned down to start leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jugular and shoulder. Biting and sucking lead to him leaning back from his work.

Taehyung swiped his tongue over his bottom lip before biting it. He reached into his pocket and brought his phone out to take a photo of your neck. After he tapped his finger a few times on the screen he turned it around to show you. He had posted the picture on Instagram with the caption Mine ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Jeongguk

He was...constantly possessive. There wasn’t a day that went by without him marking your neck or staring at you endearingly with infatuation. You could be sitting there watching tv on the bed and you just see Jeongguk’s head up from the side.

You giggled as you went back to watching the show that was playing. This was the only time you got to watch tv so you ignored him. You had been scared when Jeongguk first kidnapped you and brought you to his family home in the country side.

He was violent and intimidating, especially when you spoke out. It’s been eight months since then and Jeongguk has proven to be one of the most caring people you’ve ever met. He didn’t talk very much but when he did he spoke words of adoration and compliments. On the rare occasion, he would mumble about things like “she’s mine”, “you can’t have her”, and “you deserved this”. Those were the times you worried about when he left and didn’t come back for a few hours.

Right now, you were still trying to ignore Jeongguk as he slowly inched his way onto the bed. It took him about ten minutes to get on the bed and closer to you to the point where he was laying on his side only an inch away from you. You tried to keep the grin off your face but failed miserably.

Finally looking at him you asked, “What?”

His round doe eyes stared into yours while he gathered the courage to ask you a very important question. He took a deep breath and the exhale blew a baby hairs from your face.

You gave him time as his shyness usually kept him from talking openly about what was on his mind.

“Can-can we get-get...uh tattoos? Together?” his voice was quiet as he held his stare onto yours.

Your eyes widened a bit as you processed what he had said. He had almost a full sleeve of art tattooed into his right arm while you had only had a few here and there because of how expensive they were.

“I don’t see why not,” you turned back to the tv and squinted at the fact that it was now a whole new show. Your lips turned into a pout as you grabbed the remote to change the channel.

Jeongguk grabbed the remote out of your hands and tossed it across the room. You decided not to comment on it and look at him expectantly.

“I want to get each other’s names over our hearts.”

That...was definitely not what you were expecting but it wasn’t surprising. Jeongguk had been tracing shapes into the skin above your heart for the past week. You supposed it was his name that he was tracing.

“Do you...still want to get them?” his voice was almost a whisper now as he began to trace over your heart again.

You stayed quiet as you thought about if you wanted to really get his name tattooed into your skin for the rest of your life. Thinking about it, you smiled and began to trace over Jeongguk’s shirt where your name would be inked into his skin.

“Yeah, I do.”

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justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

Exile: My Town

Previous: Five Whole Minutes

Pairing: Timotheé Chalamet x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: If he was honest with himself, Timothée expected her to cancel. But there she is, on his doorstep.

Exile Master List

The phone had rung hundreds of times over the last six months. The first month, Timothée called her twice a day, every morning and every night. On weekends he called more frequently, drinking his days away, leaving embarrassingly long messages. He declared his love, shared his vision for their future, talked about what he wanted to name their kids and when he thought they’d get married. He described the property in France that he wanted to buy, did she know he had been looking? He detailed how he wanted to continue to go back to Crema for the summer, maybe buy a villa there too, and split summers between the two locations. He wanted their kids to learn French and Italian, he wanted her to learn too. He wanted to wear a paisley suit, or maybe velvet, for their wedding. Their wedding, he had already planned, and wouldn’t it be romantic if it was over three days in their new château?

He became more desperate as the days turned into weeks, which turned into months. On one particular evening, his anger overcame him as he yelled into the receiver about her belongings and their house. What the fuck did she want to do? Did she fucking plan on ever coming back for her clothes? Did she expect him to fucking ship them from their house to wherever the hell she was? And, where was she? Where the fuck was she? Why was she doing this to him? To their life? Why the fuck couldn’t she get over it and come home? Didn’t she realize how much he needed her? Why wouldn’t she just talk to him?

This had been the final straw. He had awoken to find a new folder had been shared with him. He opened it and was confronted with what he had become. She had saved his voicemails, his drunken assaults and languid descriptions of their life. She had kept his sobs, his deepest secrets, his desires. Here they were for him to relive. At the end was a memo he hadn’t recorded, a message from her, telling him the days she would be coming over to pack her belongings and detailing the furniture in the house that she wanted. She didn’t care where he went, but for those three days, he couldn’t be there. She told him to sell the house, she’d take her share of the profits, and if he decided he didn’t want to move, he needed to buy her out.

The cracks deepened. The sorrow became overwhelming. The darkness was everywhere. Despite her best attempts, her jovial personality and excitement at preparing for the baby, Florence was at a loss. She didn’t know how to make him feel better. She didn’t know how to dissuade the guilt she felt at playing a part in their demise.

After six months and one week, Florence had gone into labor. They decided to keep it low key, which is why on a Saturday a month after his daughter’s arrival, he had called her to ask if she would come by and meet his new daughter. He had left it open ended, a few friends stopping by to meet her, no big deal, and maybe could they talk? She had said she would stop by. After seven months, she still hadn’t spoken to him about why she left.

Florence had brought the baby over to get acquainted with Timothée’s home, since she would be spending half her time with him. Tim was excited to have his daughter in his house, instead of staying at Florence’s a few nights a week to take care of her. He recognized that they would need to find a solution until she stopped nursing, and he was more than happy to spend the night, often taking all the night shifts so Florence could sleep. But he wanted his daughter in his house, and he wanted to share his daughter with his love, even if they hadn’t spoken in seven months. She was still his love, his future, wasn’t she?

If he was honest with himself, Timothée expected her to cancel. But there she is, on his doorstep.

“Hi,” She says, holding the gift box tightly in her hands.

“Hi love,” He says, smiling at her. “You look, gorgeous.”

“Don’t,” She says.

She had tried to prepare for this, for being in her house when it was no longer hers. Timothée wasn’t making a move until they had spoken. Why would he sell their house, the house that they had built and let their love blossom in? She couldn’t tell if he loved it because it was theirs, and in his mind, he still thought there was a chance they would get back together, or because he really liked the modern home. The fact that he hadn’t bought her out or moved to sell it both infuriated her and reminded her why she would always love him: sentimentality.

She stands at the threshold, peering in. The memory of picking out the tiles in the entry way and the stain of the hardwood floors cascaded over her. She had insisted on the herringbone pattern, which made the stairs look like a maze of wood grains. Timothée had just looked at her, smiling and saying, “as you wish”. She hadn’t imagined when they’d hung their Christmas photos leading towards the living room, that she’d been on the outside, wondering how long he’d keep them up and when he took them down, would he tell her? What would he do with the framed images when he realized they no longer had a future? Would he keep them up, despite it no longer being a home, but to show his daughter what once lived in this place? Or would he discard it to create something new for his life with his child?

“We’re in the living room,” Timothée steps aside and lets her walk in. She kicks her shoes off and pads softly towards the voices and baby coos.

“You came!” Florence calls, standing up to meet her. “I’m so happy to see you.”

She meets Florence’ enthusiasm and hugs her. Florence had wanted to meet with her at various points in the pregnancy. She wanted to talk with her, try to get her to understand what her having Timothée’s baby meant, but she didn’t budge. She would only see Florence in group settings, and even then, she stayed away. Which is why Florence is so thrilled when she walks into the living room.

“You look amazing! How are you feeling?” She sits on her couch, the one she spent weeks researching, picking patterns, comparing quality of fabrics, before insisting on this one. She hadn’t expected Timothée to change their home, but it was almost worse sitting in it, everything where she left it. He had bought similar items as placeholders for the ones she had taken, his unwillingness to admit that the items weren’t coming back evident in their lesser replacements.

“I’m doing well, really well. Did you bring a gift? You didn’t have to!” Florence says, reaching for the present.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” She hands the box to Florence, who proceeds to open it quickly.

“Oh my god, this is so cute!” Florence calls, taking in the puzzle she’d picked out.

“You know, for when she’s a little older and is playing. I remember my name puzzle from childhood, I always loved it,” She says smiling.

Timothée can feel his heart aching. Of course, she picked a thoughtful, caring gift for his daughter. Of course, even in this challenging situation, she chose to take the high road.

“Well, speaking of, this is Margot,” Florence says, picking up her daughter from the bassinet to the right of the couch. Placing her delicately in her friends’ arms, Florence sits.

She smiles and cradles Margot in her arms. She can feel the tears as they begin to form and wills herself to not let them fall. She has Timothée’s eyes, and enough curly hair to match her father. Her olive skin and delicate features resemble her mother. She’s beautiful.

Moments pass before she realizes she’s staring, unmoving, unspeaking.

“She already loves you,” Timothée says, coming over and sitting next to her on the couch.

“She’s really beautiful,” She says, handing her back to Florence. Silence falls as Margot coos. “Um, I can’t stay long, just wanted to stop by,” she says standing.

“Nonsense, stay for a drink!” Florence says, positioning herself to nurse baby Margot.

“No, I can’t, thank you though, for inviting me,” she quickly hugs Florence and says bye to Margot. She walks swiftly to the foyer and slips her shoes on before he’s grabbing her wrist.

“Don’t go,” Timothée says, grip tightening on her skin.

“I have other plans, can’t cancel,” She says, free hand moving to wipe a stray tear.

“Talk to me, you haven’t spoken to me in seven months, please,” He says.

“Well you’ve done enough for the both of us,” She opens the front door and starts walking down the driveway.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to say it, I’m sorry,” He grabs her wrist again in an attempt to turn her around.

“Stop apologizing.” She says, tugging her arm out of his grasp. “Just, stop.”

“Why can’t we talk about this? Why can’t we share in this? I need you; I love you. I know you’re mad at me, I know you’re upset but I’ve been racking my brain for seven months trying to figure out why you can’t handle this. You are my rock; you are my fucking harbor. We have a life together! I need you; I need you,” He says, the crack in his voice giving way to the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“I can’t do this,” She says, voice wavering

“Why the fuck not?” He calls.

“Because! Because Timothée,” She yells, venom in her throat. “This is supposed to be me. This is supposed to be my life. This is the life you promised me.” She tries to inhale through her sob. “I know you need me. I know it’s been a difficult seven months. But this was supposed to be us, it was supposed to be our baby in our house. You and me.”

“I’m sorry, I know, I know we had plans I know, but, she’s my daughter and I can’t change what’s happened with -”

“You don’t fucking get it, Timothée,” She cuts him off.

“What don’t I get? What don’t I understand? I have been trying to understand why you left for months! I keep coming up short. Why would you walk out on us? Why would you abandon me and our dreams? What possib-

“She made you a father,” She gasps as the words tumble out. She pauses, trying to inhale and regain any sense of composure. “Florence gave you a child. She did! No matter what I do, I will always…”

“I-I,” He stumbles, realization washing over him as his body gives way to another round of sobs.

“I will never be able to… my entire life, my life with you … our life … is gone, Timothée. Sell the house, buy the villa in Crema, raise your daughter…” She throws her hands up and inhales abruptly, “This was supposed to be ours.”

She darts into her car and quickly pulls out of the driveway. She doesn’t stop as he falls to his knees. She doesn’t stop as she drives away from the house and the life they shared. He doesn’t stop calling after her, even after his knees hit the concrete, the snot and tears mixing on his tongue as he tries to will her back.

Next: Insult to Injury

#timothee x reader #timothee x you #timothée chamalet #actor RPF #RPF #established relationship #pregnancy #florence pugh #heartache #original #exile #folklore #breaking branches #my town

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bubblyani · 4 years

Text

Bail Out: 05

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 05: “No Fun”

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault. However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne, surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 8500+

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Swearing and Slight Violence

Author’s Note: So glad I could finish this on time. Now I’m impatiently working on the next part. When you read it, you will know why. Thanks again for the wonderful response. Enjoy!

Chapter LIST

The rapid sound of gunfire, infused with blood curdling screams, certainly forced your heart to beat right out of your chest. The beating, increased without any prior announcement shocked you, as if the live, blood pumping organ might literally fall out of your flesh vessel. The scene you witnessed, was never expected but only imagined in modes of fiction. Be it novels or films. However, when you truly got to taste it in the rusty reality, only then did you realize the gravity of its horror. And only then at that fateful moment, did you genuinely fear for your precious life.

Just when it seemed trouble had finally set you free.

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

(A Few Days Earlier)

Allison Hughs was your quintessential fun-loving, living in the moment party girl with complete control over the pace of her existence. Apart from all that, she was also a loyal friend, blindly following you to the ends of the earth in ranting.

“SHE DID WHAT?”

Her inquiry was loud and dramatic, to which you nodded. “Yep” you replied, “She straight up went there…”

Safe to say, the ‘She’ that was being mentioned here was none other than Clara Bennett, the Consultant who slithered her way into Wayne Enterprises, solely to make exaggerated inspections on HR Operations, and to make your cooperate life a living hell, drenched with self-doubt and insecurity. It certainly traveled up a notch when she proactively invited you to take part in a Basic HR Crash Course, that was mainly designed to New Recruits. Simply because she assumed that you would find the Course ‘helpful’ to your own line of work. The fact she indirectly implied a trace of incompetence in you caused so much embarrassment.

“The hell is that bitch’s problem though?”

Allison kept inquiring, as she wiped off the milk from her lips, “Seriously…” she muttered, standing by the opened refrigerator in her pajamas.

“Yeah” you continued to nod, as you stuffed a spoonful of cereal into your mouth, “..and Lillian…being my senior since day 1, didn’t even treat me this way” you added, with a full mouth.

Already dressed for work, little did you expect to see Allison awake and engaged while you had your breakfast, “I look like a fucking joke…”you muttered, after finally gulping the food down.

“Hey!”

Allison cried, pointing her index finger at you, “Don’t you dare give up” she said with seriousness, standing before you, “You need to stand your ground and carry on with dignity…” she continued, her tone quite similar to a heroic speech, “Make Lillian proud she left you in charge…” she added, putting both hands on the table. Leaning forward, she took a closer look, “This will be good for you…” finally as her voice grew soft, she flashed a soft smile. You could not help but look at her affectionately, as you exhaled deeply.

“Talking to you makes me feel so much better…” you admitted. Pleased, Allison stood up straight.

“That’s why I’m your hype man, Sweetie!” she said, turning towards the window, “Watch out Gotham! The Bruiser is here to SLAY-”

“HEYYY!!-” your shushes exited along with your embarrassment. Your friend covered her mouth quickly.

“Sorry, Sweetie….” Allison whispered, taking the hands away, “But it just sounds so badass…” as her tone grew normal once more. You shot her a deranged look.

“Do I look like someone who deserves the name?” you inquired. “Well…” she said, folding her arms, “…the fact you punched that guy is a good enough reason…”

Shaking one’s head with a chuckle, you watched her head to the bedroom with a maniacal laughter. The sudden vibration of the table forced you to look down at your phone. The chuckling stopped, permitting your pulse to quicken with liberty. Rubbing your neck nervously, you proceeded to read the text from the only sender who was capable to send you through an emotional wild ride: Bruce Wayne.

Sorry, long night. Good Morning!

Pausing for a few seconds, you exhaled loudly as began to type:

No worries. Hope your day goes well, Mr. Wayne.

Being an appropriate response, you sent without hesitation. Long night?, could it possibly truly mean a hectic night of crime fighting and city saving in disguise? A strong urge suddenly arose to pull up the search browser on your phone, and type in the words: Batman. And what appeared first in the results certainly made your eyebrows rise with curiousity.

“Ali….” You yelled loud enough for her to hear, “You’ve heard of a website called… ‘Where’s the Bat’?

“EH?”

Her response was equally loud and echoing, “Oh yeah…” she added, whilst you opened the web page, “…Matty was talking about it sometime back…” she continued, “Some nerdy site about The Batman…”

“Damn!”

The word abruptly left your lips as your eyes widened. For you were treated to such a sight, “Ali…get this…” you said, proceeding to read the description of the page, “Welcome to ‘Where’s the Bat?’ Your Online Resource for all things Batman: Gotham’s Caped Crusader…” you squealed excitedly, “Ha! It’s a freakin’ fan site! Oh! Oh!” you exclaimed as you continued to read out loud:

“… reliable sources from our very own admins and enthusiasts all over Gotham City…” with a whistle, you nodded, “These folks are not kidding around, huh?” you muttered, letting your finger slowly scroll down, “And they have posts on almost every appearance he made in the city…” you said out loud, yet it seemed that Allison was never interested.

The Website backdrop was in black, but encompassing a very beautiful design concept. The immaculate detail was beyond believable. Detailed posts on possible weapons owned, vehicles, fighting styles and costume, Photos ranging from Low Quality to High, even blurry videos by camera phones, it was certainly a network of information. Your eyes widened when you saw the recent post title:

Batman and The Bruiser?

“What the-?” Muttering to yourself, you clicked on the article.

“…also known as The Bruiser (Click Here for the Viral Clip) was spotted nearby when a group of muggers had reportedly attacked her. According to the anonymous source, Batman had arrived right on time. A clip of the incident may not be available, yet we did manage to find a small clip as he escaped the scene. And according to Gotham PD, the Caped Crusader had appeared once again to The Bruiser’s aid the night after. As much as we feel sorry for the bad luck The Bruiser attracts, we could only be nothing but envious of her opportunity to meet the Dark Knight twice. And some of us could not help but wonder: Could romance possibly be in bloom between the two?”

“What?” Nervous chuckles were all you let out as you whispered, “Hah! In your dreams, fanboys…” you uttered, closing the browser, “Batman would never go for a woman like me” you said, almost dropping the phone by its sudden vibration. For a reply was received.

You too. Stay out of trouble :)

“And you stay out of my head” you said to yourself, putting the phone back on the table. Covering your face, you could only groan with frustration. Ever since that evening at the hospital a mere week before, casual texts from Bruce Wayne began to appear on your phone, starting off on the very next day:

Couldn’t thank you for running that errand for Fox.

The errand, meaning the black box that Mr.Fox entrusted you with. A small yet long box which was quite light. The very box that granted you access to his penthouse and to the friendship with Alfred Pennyworth.

Just doing my job, Mr.Wayne.

You remember replying that day at office. It was not exactly necessary for him to thank you this way, yet his action was commendable. He did not hesitate to quickly respond:

Much appreciated.

Just when you thought it was the end, he greeted once again two days later. During an important meeting, for example:

Hi there! Is Ms.Foster enjoying the gift?

Once the meeting wrapped up, you made sure to respond :

Very much, from what I know. You’re making motherhood very easy for her.

You would be lying if you did not look forward to write him back. The manner your fingers tingled was quite evident.

That’s a relief.

Clearly with his corresponding reply, he displayed quite an interest in conversing with you, by finding meager excuses to obtain your response. Yet, a part of you wondered what his actual intentions were. Be professional, a phrase that lingered in your head always. A warning, more like. As much as the desire to carry on the message thread was strong within, you did not reply back.

Two days passed, and surprisingly you were dying with curiousity. Could it be that his intention to communicate had finally gone? Or could it be that you were finally missing him? Forming a clever excuse to obtain his signature, you liaised with Jessica, only to find out Bruce Wayne was currently on a business trip in Singapore.

Intoxicated with impulsiveness, your thumbs grew stubborn as they formed a message on your phone:

Heard you’re in Singapore. How is it?

“Shit! Roaming Charges!”

You sighed, your palm slapped over your forehead. Putting the phone away to enjoy the view of the bus ride, you sincerely hoped he would never notice. But to your surprise, the phone vibrated instantly:

Loving the Food here.

Despite roaming charges, he was kind enough to reply. And that touched you very deeply. Then again, money was never an issue for a man of his stature. him. However, you were not Bruce Wayne. Still, a few extra dollars seemed nothing compared to the inner secretive joy you indulged in as you replied:

Not surprised. The Bakkwa over there is to die for.

He did not reply. He did not do so for a day and two. You grew worried, if he was really knee deep in business, or literally knee deep in trouble. But the next morning, you were finally assured of his safe arrival back to Gotham, especially when you found a gift at the door. A Gift which came in the form of a beautiful red box full of Bakkwa, the Chinese sweet dried meat, one of your favorite treats. You did not miss the handwritten note inside:

You’re right. It IS to die for. - B.Wayne

Chuckling with happiness, you were only compelled to quickly text him a grateful reply:

The Bakkawa enthusiast sends her Thanks.

To which you finally received a reply this morning as you indulged on your cereal:

Sorry, long night. Good Morning!

Groaning in frustration seemed rightfully reasonable for you. Stressing out seemed rightfully reasonable as well. Who would not, when there was a storm that brewed inside of you. A storm of emotions that contained the sticky quality. The adhesiveness that was stubborn to the core. For if you look at the situation in it’s entirety, this was not your average instance of a man and woman forming a textual habit in order to know one another. You were an acting Head, informally socializing with the owner of Wayne Enterprises. Being in HR, you could already feel the weight of unprofessionalism heat on you. That guilt which already seemed to haunt you subtly. Thus, not responding further seemed logical, yet it certainly was a hard pill for you to swallow.

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

“You sure you don’t want anything? Coffee or Tea?”

You asked Officer John Blake, ushering him to his seat as you sat down. He shook his head.

“I’m good, Ma’am” he said with a smile. Smiling back, you were drenched with guilt. A week earlier, the police officer had requested to meet, yet with your unexpected work load, you reluctantly had to send him back the previous time. Forcing him to wait so long for a week was something you knew you would go to hell for. But John Blake did not judge, or as it seemed from his expression.

“Didn’t know you were running a tight ship here .” He said, looking back to witness the bustle in the main hall outside.

“Well, the Head’s on Maternity leave so…I’m stuck here, hehe…” You answered nervously, “Once again I’m so sorry Officer. You said it was something urgent?”

“It’s about the two attacks…” Blake said, capturing your attention. “Now I’m sure you’re probably wondering if those are simply coincidental or something more…”

“I honestly have been afraid to go down that rabbit hole, but yes I did wonder…” you replied. Looking sideways, he finally turned your way as his lowered his voice:

“I have reason to believe Erik Henderson may be connected to this…”

The image of the mocking man, and his bloody nose flashed before your very eyes. Given his anger, it could be a high possibility. Yet, you were in disbelief.

“What gave you the idea?” You inquired with curiousity. Blake kept his police his hat on his lap securely:

“The men who attacked you, the ones we arrested…” He said, to which you nodded in acknowledgment, “They were bailed out the very next day by-”

“-Henderson’s Legal Team?” You asked blankly, for you were still in disbelief. Blake nodded.

“I may be wrong” he said, “Bailing the people who attacked you, it could also just be a power move, maybe to scare you off…” he added, leaning forward, “So far we cannot be sure…” He continued, “But I think it’s best for you to keep an eye out-”

Your eyes suddenly darted towards the phone screen. For an email just appeared in your personal inbox with a title:

“Job Offer for General Manager”

Eyes widening, you were certainly not expecting that. Quiet for a few minutes, you found yourself staring at your own table, for you were confused beyond all measure with everything you just heard and saw.

“I’m sorry...” Blake began, shaking you from your thoughts, “ if I’m causing you any discomfort-”

“No…it’s alright” flipping the phone downward, you shook your head with a soft smile, “I just…all this was just so unexpected. Didn’t think there would be any possibility for anything like this, that’s all” you said, smiling even more, “I appreciate the information, Officer”

Truthfully, you were nothing but grateful to the man. Perhaps it was because he was the arresting officer who was in charge of that fateful night. Nevertheless, he was nothing but kind to you. Blake grinned widely.

“The Precinct still thanks The Bruiser for Common’s Coffee” He said, to which you were genuinely surprised.

“Oh! I’m glad-”

“BOSS!”

Greg’s cries forced both of you to look to the door. Distress never looked good on Greg. Giving a heavy sigh, he began:

“ I’m sorry to keep doing this but…” he said, “Clara’s gone off the rails!”

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

As he made his way down the Lobby through the crowds, John Blake made his careful observations, fascinated by all that he glanced upon in the Wayne Tower. “Officer Blake!” Stopping in his tracks, John turned upon hearing a familiar voice. He smiled.

“Mr.Wayne…” He addressed, “Didn’t expect to see you here” Smartly dressed in a pinstriped three piece suit, Bruce Wayne stood before the much younger man with a reciprocative smile.

“Well,” he began “You can’t just play hard….so…” Nodding in acknowledgment, Blake held on to his hat. With the silence between them growing longer, John began to speak:

“I’m actually just coming down after meeting one of your Senior Managers” He said, which caught Wayne’s attention.

“Who is…?”

When Blake provided him with the name, Bruce nodded nonchalantly. “Is this anything to do with the Henderson case?” He asked, suddenly growing serious. Surprised by his knowledge, the officer nodded.

“Yes….” Blake added. But then again, there was nothing to be surprised of. Given Wayne was in the hotel when it all happened.

“How did she take it?” “Surprisingly pretty well” Blake said, as he began to walk alongside Wayne ,“But she seems to have her hands full today, doesn’t look too good” he sighed, involuntarily empathizing with her. And given Wayne’s subtle yet concerned expression, Blake realized he was not alone there. Finally reaching the exit, the officer was compelled to do the unexpected:

“Since you were a witness to the incident,..” he began, making Wayne look at him, “ I think it’s probably best that you also know…”

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

You have always put your trust in Lillian Foster. That trust had lasted throughout your time in Wayne Enterprises without forsaking you for a mere second. Thus, you were certain she did the needful in approving the Revised Policies and Regulations before taking her leave. For you had personally witnessed it.

However, when a company email from Clara Bennett to Lucius Fox claimed HR was seemingly incapable of carrying out their operations under the current leadership, you were not surprised to find your anger making an appearance.

And the embarrassment you had to face when she even went so far as to copy you and your managers in to that said email. Professional was nowhere near this behavior. For this was simply child’s play. The panic all your department staff went through was understandable. Especially when they worked only to their very best.

“You wanted to me see me?”

Clara asked, as she entered your office. Raising your head up, you threw a cold expression her way: “Close the door please” Your tone was stern. Looking around, Clara furrowed her eyebrows. “But aren’t you supposed to-” “I’ll take my chances, Ms. Bennett” You interrupted her, lips forming a tight smile. With an uncertain nod, she closed the door shut, before taking a few steps towards you. Slowly getting up from your desk, you quickly walked over to her. It was now or never. “We saw that little email that you sent to Mr. Fox.” You stated, to which she did not flinch. Scoffing, your hands rested on your hips, “I know how things work: When people mess up, even after many warnings, they get complained about to the superiors…” you said in a matter-of-fact tone, “But…” you paused, as you were on a dire attempt not to explode, “how can you expect us...” Surprisingly you felt emotion trickling in, “...to take this lying down when you DIDN'T PERFORM EITHER OF THOSE ACTIONS?” With your voice surprisingly getting louder than expected, Clara found herself folding her arms in defense: “Look, I get it...” She said, her smile suddenly faded, “You don’t like me snooping around” You scoffed in disbelief, “Ms.Bennett, this is not you snooping around. This is you desperately finding excuses to make US LOOK BAD” you stated loudly, “I mean…What exactly on the policies and regulations are you complaining about?” You inquired. And to your surprise, Clara grew quiet before she finally answered:

“I just...” she paused, as if she was seeking excuses, “...don’t understand why the Policies couldn’t be circulated if they were revised” Your jaw dropped in disbelief, “What are you talking about??They were already revised and circulated” you answered with certainty, appalled by the childish games that were being played. “Well…” pausing again, “I don’t see them in the Public Folder”she said stubbornly, to which you sighed, rubbing your temples, “ And according to my sources, It’s Paula Yang’s responsibility, am I right?” Though authority was rife in her tone, you could sense the menace that lingered invisibly.

“Ms. Bennett...” you gritted through your teeth, taking your hand away, “Paula is on bed rest after breaking HER LEG...from a biking accident last weekend” you burst out, “...if you looked up on our employees with the SAME ENTHUSIASM you did on our work, then you would probably know that” you spat, fuming with anger, “But If you expect me to deprive her of her paid leave, JUST SO she could just limp over here to UPLOAD SOME POLICIES to a server? then you’re sorely mistaken! ” You cried out, panting.

Subtly shocked at your response, Clara stood silently. Given her reaction, it was quite evident something disastrous would soon follow. Your threw your hands up in defense.

“Fine” you said, “If you prefer to pin this error on me, please do. But… not the department” you said, as your voice grew soft , “...please” you breathed. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, Clara opened them once again, shooting you a stern glance.

“Do you know…what I was told about you before I came here?” She posed a rhetorical question, to which you rightfully did not answer to, “An unprofessional thug, with anger issues.” She said.

In all your years of working at Wayne Enterprises, this was the far from what you had ever heard from anyone. The silence ruled over the atmosphere for a few more seconds.

“So I came in with a mission...” Clara went on, “...to tame you. Or to rile you up enough to expose who you really were” she said harshly. Folding your own arms in defense, you took a deep breath:

“Well,” you began, “I believe I was angry For the right reasons. So no regrets here” you answered with confidence. Whatever consequence that may follow, you were not aware of, for your justified rage may possibly have outdone yourself this time. You only wished Lillian would forgive you.

“But…” Clara paused, “...from the way you stood up for your employees and your department…,” she said, as her expression softened, “ I guess… I was badly misinformed.” Confusion took over you for the next few seconds, as she looked straight into your eyes before taking in a deep breath:

“I’m sorry!” Your eyes widened, “P-Pardon?” Sighing, Clara reluctantly rubbed the sides of her thighs: “I’m sorry…If I insulted you in any way” she said shyly in a low tone, “Honestly speaking, no matter how much I tried to deny it, everything seems to be running smoothly” She added.

Relief quickly washed over you. Leaving you questioning reality all the sudden. “ I would gladly leave you all alone but..,” Clara smiled, “I’ve been contracted here for a while. So, I hope we can all cooperate together till I leave. Maybe a fresh start?”

Extending her hand to you, she presented a genuine smile. A smile possibly carrying hope to gain your trust. Sincerely impressed by her bravery, you smiled back: “Sure, Apology accepted” You said, shaking her hand, “I really appreciate it, Ms.Bennett”

“Clara, Please.” She insisted, “Ms.Bennett just pisses me off even more”

Chuckling together, you nodded, “Okay, Gotcha”

The phone rang loud to your surprise. Giving her a friendly wave, you quickly moved to your desk in a cheerful manner, growing even more cheerful upon seeing the extension on the phone screen.

“Mr. Fox!” You answered, as you sat down, “How can I help you?”

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

Since the fateful day she first laid eyes on him in his glorious return to Wayne Enterprises until now, Jessica would certainly never not blush whenever Bruce Wayne politely greeted her. Upon seeing her red face, he stepped into Lucius Fox’s office, walking over to find the CEO on the phone wearing a smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about it.” Fox said over the phone, “So you’ll come? Perfect…” He smiled, nodding at Wayne as he finally appeared in his eye line, “Hope to see you then” He added, hanging up the phone.

“I have to admit…” Fox began, ushering Bruce to sit, “… seeing you here every day at Wayne Tower is a happy surprise” He said. Bruce smiled.

“Everything alright?” He asked the CEO, “The Audits aren’t happening till another month or so..”

“No…” Fox shook his head, surprisingly impressed, “ I was actually wondering if you would…like to join me in the Company Dinner, this Thursday night. It’s a little gathering I normally do with the Heads of Departments...” he continued, glancing upon Wayne’s confused expression, “...to form a closer bond and… give them morale” He said, tilting his head. As much as the sentiment was kind, Wayne sighed with exhaustion.

“Mr.Fox, you know very well how I rather be stuck in the basement than go to that…” he said, slowly getting up, “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass”. Offering a polite smile, he turned around to make his leave. When opportunities to make a choice were given, he would certainly rather choose to not wear that mask in public. It tired him.

“She’s coming too”

Bruce froze, the moment Fox’s words reached his ears. Turning to him, he raised his eyebrows.

“She?” He began, “You mean…she?” He asked, highly emphasizing on the said pronoun, for both of them knew the person being discussed.

“Yes” Fox said, “Just got off the phone with her as you came in” he added, “I just thought you would like to know” with nonchalance, he casually put on his glasses.

Silently nodding, Bruce turned back to resume walking. Only except he halted once again, just to spin back around smoothly.

“Thursday…what time?” He inquired with genuine curiousity.

Being a man of his age, Lucius Fox could not help but smile at his response.

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

Being the workaholic, Lunch Breaks was nothing short of special for you. The moment the last bite of your delicious meal reached your lips, it was off to work once again, giving you ample time to finish your tasks. But this Wednesday, you cast that usual habit away, taking the luxury you rarely took during this entire decade.

Just to decide on a dress.

With your lunch on the desk and Allison on speakerphone, your eyes moved back and forth from two beautiful dresses on the website. With Mr. Fox casually inviting you to the Company Dinner, all you longed to provide was a good impression. Most women in your position would feel greatly pressured and stick to a salad just to fit into the dress. However, you were far too greedy to ignore the great Spaghetti Bolognese that was on the table before you.

“Sweetie, You know I love you, So why won’t you fucking listen to me?”

Allison’s echoed out loud, as you stared at the screen with concern. “Cause it’s a crazy idea, that’s why ” you said, stuffing pasta into your mouth, “Better go with the black one…” you said with a full mouth, pointing at the long sleeved black dress, “It’s tame, and I can just blend in with crowd” squinting, you attempted at imagining yourself in the outfit.

“Boo! BORING”

Allison’s response was quite obvious.

“Hey!” Clara’s whisper reached your ears, urging you to find her standing by the door with a smile. Ever since the intervention, the atmosphere underwent a surprising change, and all was well with the both of you. It was quite unbelievable how cooperative she had become. “I’m sorry but...could I borrow a twenty?” She asked politely in a whisper, all in order not to intrude your call. “Sure…” You whispered back, reaching into your bag to grab your purse, “Hah! Lucky you, that’s all I have” You grinned, fishing out the only dollar note as she headed over to take it from your hand.

“Hey! Hey! Sweetie, Did I lose you?”

Allison’s voice brought you back to the phone call. “No! No! You didn’t…Sorry! Argh!” Groaning in frustration, you looked back at the computer screen, “I don’t know what to do, Ali…” You muttered.

“What is it?” With her still standing there, Clara finally asked out loud. She genuinely looked concerned. Embarrassed, you pointed at the screen.

“No it’s just…” you paused, “I have to go to this Cooperate Dinner thingy tomorrow, and I don’t know what to get…” you added, “…the Black or the White”.

Silent for a few seconds, you stared at Clara as she rubbed her chin with seriousness, while making a careful observation at the screen. Finally, her fingers snapped loudly.

“The White One…” Confidence oozed out of her voice as she replied. Looking back at the dress, you took a deep breath. V neck on the front along with a low cut in the back, the pure white silk evening gown certainly possessed the potential to be a show stopper.

“I mean…Why be afraid to stand out?”

Clara’s words, they rang in your ears so loudly. Pointing at the dress, she continued:

“Wear this, and No one will be able to take their eyes off you” The manner in which she uttered, you were suddenly filled with enough power to head out to the battlefield. Her words, they were simply invisible embellishments to the dress, making it the armor and the secret weapon. It simply became powerful. And finally, you were convinced on which dress to finally purchase. Lips forming into a warm smile, you thanked her inaudibly.

“YAY!” Allison cried out on the line, “Whoever just said that, I agree with you” Chucking, Clara cleared her throat and looked at your mobile phone.

“Hey there…It’s Clara by the way…” she said to Allison. You suppressed a huge grin as you imagined Allison’s surprise upon hearing that.

“Oh…YOU’RE Clara?…” she said, pausing, “Well I like how you think, Clara” she said happily afterwards. Relieved by the sight of both your best friend and your new friend being acquainted, your eyes moved back to the beautiful dress.

“Wear this, and No one will be able to take their eyes off you”

Clara may be right. But you were a simple woman, and your wishes were just as simple. Little did anyone know how your heart simply longed for just one person to indulge your presence for the entire evening. But the possibility of that, was just your wishful thinking. You could only hope for the evening be as successful as imagined. As long as it had the perfect touch of jazz piano playing in the background.

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

With notes played with the fluidity of a free flowing stream, the jazz piano music was certainly better tonight than it was that Friday evening weeks ago. With tonight, you only hoped to replace the horrid memory of violence that linked the genre of music with an evening more refined. For tonight, you were no violator, nor a drunkard. You were merely a lady in a beautiful, silk dress.

Walking through the Lobby in your silver open toe heels, you came into the realization of how the dress simply became you. Contrary to your fears, it embraced your curves effortlessly, while the material was kind to you, caressing and cooling your skin.The dress itself contained a sense of assurance you would most likely receive from a trusted friend, some good Samaritan, kindly whispering positive affirmations. Fashioning the outfit with your Mikimoto pearls, you felt you were prepared enough.

You were punctual, fortunately. Lillian would have been proud. When you arrived at the reserved table, the other Heads were just about to take their seats. Cold, curt nods were passed on to you the moment they caught sight of you. Lucius Fox, however was humble enough to smile widely upon seeing you.

“I appreciate you coming in tonight…” He stated, as he politely ushered you to your seat, which granted you access between him and Head of Legal, Ted’s Boss, “This is usually Lillian’s gig” he said.

“Yes I heard,” you agreed while sitting down together, “And she does it flawlessly”

“I think you’ll be able to hold off your own” Fox assured, quite impressed by your appearance tonight. You smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Fox” you nodded, looking at him, until he suddenly rose from his own chair.

“Ah! The man of the hour”

He said as he looked ahead, “…so glad you could come, Mr.Wayne”

The mere mention of that man’s name made you turn forward in a flash. Bruce Wayne was simply Suave incarnate. He certainly brought forth great depth to his presence everywhere he set foot on. You swore the airways inside began to dry out as your breath was taken away in secret. However, that breath was quickly stomped and discarded recklessly when you realized he was no alone. With a beautiful woman on his arm, he arrived at the table.

When that strong, sour feeling came over you, you were mature enough to admit it was simple jealousy. Yet then again, the playboy lifestyle certainly was demanding. The flashing smile Bruce wore slightly disappeared , when his eyes met yours from the corner of the table. With your sour jealousy stewing you, it was a sheer relief that he took his seat on the other far corner.

“Really Mr .Wayne, This is such a pleasant surprise” Mr. Kline, Head of Accounting mentioned with joy.

“Well, Mr. Fox is getting better with power of persuasion, I suppose ” Wayne said, looking at Lucius, “So...” rubbing his hands together, he smiled, “What are we all having? My treat...”

To everyone’s delight, the night certainly started off on a positive note. According to the trusted word of Lucius Fox, Sushi was the prime choice of food on every single dinner . It was the shared interest with all the Heads by coincidence. Thus, becoming a tradition.

Fortunately for you, you knew your way with Japanese cuisine enough to save your face. Wine and Sake were in abundance in the table, leaving most of the Heads and Wayne’s date quite excited with intoxication. It was certainly a surprise for you, to see the Heads break out into wide smiles and childish attitudes once the alcohol entered their systems. They did not speak much with you, which you were fine with. You were the new one there , after all. But with Fox next to you, you felt a fatherly figure watched over you. You listened to him with earnest, which was not so difficult with his charismatic voice.

You also longed for a distraction. A strong distraction from Bruce Wayne’s eyes secretly claiming ownership over you the entire time. Could he be watching Fox? Or you? You honestly did not know. As much as your inner heart jumped for Joy by the thought of him watching you, confusion ruled supreme.

The turn of the conversation topic from Work to Sailing suddenly tempted the Heads call Mr Fox over to the other side, forcing him and Bruce to change seats instead. His date did not even notice, as she was busy engrossed in her phone. Though you were at your element, calmly eating your maki rolls in silence, your heart beat increased in an instant when his presence nearby was confirmed. His aura gently murmured a greeting of affection, urging you to look up from your plate. Covering your mouth, you politely swallowed the food. With the others engaged in their own little world, it seemed that you and Bruce were suddenly left to yourselves.

“Thank you again for the Bakkwa”

You began, clearing your throat “…it was heavenly” you said, smiling whilst flashing your full red lips. Smiling back warmly, he leaned forward to the table.

“I don’t wanna brag but...” he paused, “I found that store all by myself” He said softly, as it was a dramatic secret. Eyes widened, you played along: “Oh! I find that hard to believe” You said, chuckling.

“Ask me the address, I dare you” He said blankly, making you chuckle harder. Nodding, you generously accepted his kindness. Be it text or face to face, talking to Bruce Wayne symbolized pure joy to you.

“Well, well, well…”

An eerie voice, a voice that haunted your intoxicated memories, and a voice that caused the hairs of the back of your neck to stand. It was a voice you knew well. So bloody well.

“Isn’t this a surprise?”

The entire table looked over to find Erik Henderson. With a gracefully beautiful and age appropriate woman standing beside him, Henderson was as smug as he could be. “Mr. Henderson...” Fox said. Henderson looked right at him. “Lucius...” He uttered, without casting a single glance at Bruce Wayne. The sight of him brought a sense of fear to you. According to Officer Blake, he could very much be responsible for all the attacks you were victim to during the past few weeks. The possibility was high. Thus, the intimidation was justified. Funny how the intoxicated group of Heads managed to maintain their frozen states for a few seconds. As if their buzz was killed right off.

“Well,..” Henderson began, maintain his unimpressed expression, “I wish you all have a pleasant evening” He stressed , slowly turning to leave. “And You!” A gasp left you the moment he spun back to point his index finger at you with such ferocity and anger. With bated breath, you wondered if time froze. Until he suddenly smiled at you. “You behave now...” He said mockingly, chuckling with power as he finally left the table. With the awkward silence taking control, embarrassment injected itself into you. The way he spoke to you was certainly disrespectful. So much so, your right hand quickly clenched into a tight fist , forcing you to revisit the trauma even now by his cruel words. All your anger, centralized into this fist.

But that anger suddenly vanished into thin air, the moment you felt Bruce’s palm rest over your fist. A literal warmth spread across every cell on your being, as his palm comforted you, and empathized with you more than ever. A few seconds of that sent you to a level of peace you never visited. The fact that a man such as he was with his inner conflicts could still heal you unexpectedly, it was magic to you. Finally looking at him, you nodded with gratefulness, leading him to take his away politely.

With silence still in charge, you were guilty of your past actions ruining tonight’s occasion as well. “Maybe it’s the alcohol but...” Kline slowly began, “...that Henderson’s face always reminds me of an…animal…” he remarked, breaking the ice, “l can’t place which one exactly...” He struggled, snapping his fingers away to remember. “A Bat?” Another Head inquired. “YES!” Kline yelled out loud, causing others to finally laugh and feel the comfort take center stage once more. Letting out a sigh, you were relieved to let them converse and make merry. You were occupied enough, recovering from Bruce’s sudden touch. “...and speaking of Bats...” Kline slurred out, “That Batman fella...” “-He comes up every time…” Fox yelled towards your direction with a sigh, while the others clapped in glee. Being so popular, it was no surprise that many consider Batman to be a celebrity of his own right. “-wonder if he ever has any off days?” Kline sniggered, red in the face with sake. “Ha! Like paid leave, you mean?” “And don’t forget insurance! Boy! that man needs a big one” “Hahaha!” “Mr.Wayne! Mr. Wayne!” Kline yelled at Bruce, “Any idea about him from the grapevine ?” He inquired. “What?” Bruce asked, “…that Looney!?!” He added with an amused smile, “Eh! Not interested” he replied with an unimpressed tone. “Why?” It seemed that everyone was curious. Even you were. “Because...” Bruce paused, “Well…he’s a Looney! That’s all….” he laughed, shaking his hand in the air with dismissal. His carefree laughter infected the others, except you. As you were too occupied observing him, you could not even focus. He may have not worn the cowl, but he was certainly wearing his mask. Noticing your stare, Bruce turned to find your face filled with a soft smile.

“You really don’t mean that about the guy, right?” You murmured softly. And all the sudden, that carefree expression of his slowly melted away to reveal his true form, unmasked. “No” Calm and collected, he shook his head with a gentle smile. A sudden urge to embrace him was birthed in you for some reason, it was certainly out of your control. “Hey! Lillian’s Backup!” You jumped upon hearing Kline call you out loudly. With all eyes on landing towards your direction, you quickly sat up straight, “What’s your take on him? The Batman?” Kline inquired informally. “Oh!” Pleasantly surprised, you were speechless for a few seconds. What were you to say really? “I -I rather not say...” you admitted, as you found yourself chuckling shyly. “Eh!” Kline muttered, seemingly unamused, “She’s no fun”he claimed, “…not like Lillian now, is she?” The others hummed together in agreement. They may have gotten lost in their own world of conversation once again. Yet, the words Kline blurted affected you deeply. “Well….” You sighed, “Nothing I haven’t heard before” “What is…?” Bruce’s inquiry made you look at him. Placing both your elbows on the table, you took a deep breath as you kept a brave, fixed gaze at him:

“You’re.. no… fun”

You said, in a low yet strong tone as you emphasized on every word with pain, “…that one”

“I find that hard to believe” Bruce said. He did not flinch. Instead, he accepted your stare and held on to it firmly. Even with the golden lights you were still able to make out the beautiful hazel green eyes of his up close. His gaze, it was as powerful as anything physical. As if his eyes could caress the back of your neck, brushing the loose hair from it, leaving nothing but shivers on you.

Finally breaking free from it, you sat back with a chuckle.

“Well” you began, “…you obviously haven’t met my ex”

You watched his eyebrows furrow the moment those words exited you. Taking a huge sip of wine, you pressed your lips together.

“He said I fall too fast....” you began, “or care too much...or something”

Revisiting that dark period in your life was akin to walking a thousand miles backwards, just to get your heart pricked by sharp, rusted nails. The mere image of it forced you to gulp more wine.

“Well, Where is he now?”

Bruce asked softly. Taking a third sip, you looked back at him:

“You mean after he cheated on me?” You asked, chuckling sadly, “…He flew off somewhere…with his new girlfriend” you said, sighing “Apparently I was too predictable and doesn’t play hard to get”

“Then…” Bruce began, “…what about you throwing punches at Henderson?”

“That?” You widened your eyes, “Oh that’s just the whiskey”

Laughter ensued, breaking the tension between the two once again. Truthfully, you felt much at ease right then.

“I bet you don’t have that problem, playing the field and all” You said, holding on to your wine glass. Bruce smiled.

“Ah! Getting too attached doesn’t help anyone, I guess” he answered. And for some reason, you could empathize. Now more than ever.

“True...” you agreed, looking at him. However, that warmth you carried for him was also enlarged, and suddenly emotion overpowered logic.

“I know this is the corniest you’ve heard always….” you paused, “…but when the right person comes along...it’s so worth it” you continued, taking a deep, shaky breath, “…even if your heart gets broken into millions...billions of pieces”

Your eyes locked onto his with every word you uttered, and to your surprise, he did not look away. For a moment, his gaze on you translated into deep belief. For a Moment, his gaze dismissed every other occupant in the restaurant, except you. For a moment his silence proved that anything was possible.

Until you realized, never was life that easy.

“But like I said…” You added, blinking away the heavy stare, “... it’s not your problem” You said, fiddling with your clutch purse mindlessly. “Actually I-” “Whoops!” You sniggered when the clutch purse dropped out of your hand. Laughing together, you both found yourselves bending down to search for it.

“Let Me get that-” Bruce volunteered, as he spotted the purse, grabbing it for you.

“Thank you” You murmured shyly, reaching out your hand to take it.

The mere act of a clutch purse being transferred from one hand to another never felt this intense. A circus act commenced inside your stomach all the sudden. The manner you found yourself blushing, certainly proved his effect as a whole. The warmth of his palm earlier, it brought protection and comfort in the time of danger. However, the slightest brush of his fingers just now, it birthed confetti of butterflies, causing the internal circus to go berserk.

As he looked you up and down, you prayed he did not notice the red on your cheeks. For this man had such power over you, it was sheer chaos. But a beautifully, addictive one.

“Your Dress...” he breathed, making your own breath shake, “You look very-” “Bruce!” A seductive voice emerged out of the blue, as you realized it was his date walking over to his side. Being one of Gotham’s most well known supermodels, she exuded beauty with her tall and thin frame and brunette locks flowing down her shoulders. Wrapping her goddess-like arms around his neck, she whispered a few words to him before heading over to the restroom area. Compared to her, you felt like a little cinder block. “She’s beautiful...” you muttered hoarsely, looking down at your wine. You heard him sigh uncomfortably. “Listen...” Bruce began, causing your heart to long for hope, “I-” “Would you like anything else, Sirs?” The emotional roller coaster unexpectedly finished its ride when an over enthusiastic waiter’s loud voice caused everyone in the table to look up. “No, Thank you...” Fox said, slowly getting up, “Actually, I think might head home now” “And I will join you” You said, standing up in a flash, “Ladies, Gentleman...” you nodded to the Heads, “...Mr. Wayne” Giving him a slight nod, you turned to follow Lucius Fox. You dared not turn back to see his face. That would just show weakness. Just walk away, it was the right thing to do. The longer you will linger, the stronger your attachment will be. The stronger your need to love him will be. And what would be the use of strengthening that existing love, when the odds were always in the way?

Seduced by the women with the highest standards of beauty and power, you obviously must seem like nothing for a man such as he. You were simply charity, the employee in need. Perhaps your ex was right, You really were no fun.

Besides, being jealous was never your right, not especially when you did not even pour your heart out. And when you would not even consider doing so, being tied to morals, ethics and rules?

And if he even had not shown you his own heart, what gave you the right to be angry with anyone, except yourself?

You asked yourself, why were you wasting your time?

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

Allison’s eyes grew wide with excitement the moment you arrived home.

Clutching onto her bowl of popcorn, she watched you close the door and lean against it to look back at her. Though her hair was in a messy bun, she still managed to pull off ‘homely cool’.

“So...” she began softly, “How did it go?” Silent, You took a deep breath, not knowing where to begin. “Well-” “-Did you make Wayne cream his pants?” Allison cut you off with glee, seemingly over excited. Jaw dropped, your face contorted with disgust. “Ali! …ewww” You exclaimed, seeing her perverted expression and suggestive eyebrows. Truthfully the thought of it brought some laughter soon after. You felt calmer. “Well, did he?” Allison was persistent. Pushing yourself from the door, you began to take off your shoes, “Well…” You paused, “I think he liked what he saw” you said smiling shyly. “Yeah?” Her excitement still intact, as you sat next to her.

“I think so…” you said, reminiscing those precious moments his blessed eyes watched only you, “…but…” you paused, “it doesn’t matter…”, Sighing, you shook your head frantically, “…cause he was with a Supermodel tonight so...” “Supermodel? Sweetie, I’m sorry” laying her head on your shoulder, Allison sighed in response. Patting her on the lap, you got up. Just like that, the little giddy excitement between two women suddenly crashed and burned upon knowing they were hopeless going against a supermodel.

“Hey! by the way…” Allison began, “…did you give money for Mrs. Hernandez’s going away party?”

You froze.

“Shit!” You cried out, “ I forgot!”

Mrs. Hernandez was one of the lovely tenants in the apartment building who will be moving out this week to go live with her son. All tenants were supposed to pool in for the going away party, today being the deadline. Opening your purse with haste, you groaned. “Damn it! I don’t have any change...” Of course you did not. Not when you gave away your last note to Clara yesterday. With the current use of cards and e-payment, you rarely used cash these days.

“Me neither, Sweetie” Allison replied, mindlessly staring at the television. You sighed. Transferring the money will not do as it wont be convenient for the others. And being a bad tenant was the last thing on your mind.

“Screw it!” You said, “I’ll just go get some now” Running to your room, you proceeded to change.

“Cool…” Allison uttered quietly, until she remembered, “By the way, can you also get milk?”Allison yelled to your room, “WE’RE OUT ALREADY!!”

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

If wearing an elegant dress brought out the glamorous woman in you, then leggings and an oversized black hoodie brought out the homebody. With the hood over your head, you dug your hands in the deep pockets whilst standing at the line for the ATM. What was taking so long?

Almost 11pm, yet the neighborhood was bustling more than usual. In fact, it fascinated you. Younger folk in higher numbers lingered hanging about by the Bodega. You wondered if a party was taking place somewhere nearby, as most of them wore clothes with a similar vibe. Some danced to the loud music that played, some drank sitting on the pavement, while some lined up in front of you in the ATM line. Was it a party? Or a flashmob? Or were you suddenly intruding the filming of a music video? It simply seemed so unrealistic. Could it be the sake and wine were forcing you to imagine all this?

Then moment your phone started to ring, you knew you were not imagining. Not when the phone vibrated in your hand, not when the name of the caller caused you to breath deeply.

“Mr.Wayne?”

His breath over the phone sent shivers down your spine so subtly. Attraction was indeed a strange phenomenon.

“Hey! Did you go home okay?”

He asked. Nodding, you looked around.

“Of course.” You replied, “Mr. Fox was kind enough to drop me straight home”

“Good. Good,” As he muttered in a rush, you heard him exhale, “ Listen, can we talk? ”

Nervousness took you over with a sudden burn in your face. What must he wish to say? Was he attempting to confirm what you already dread about? Was he fully acknowledging your desires to be futile and hopeless? You kept quiet as he continued:

“About tonight…I really-” he paused, “Where are you?” The loud cheers of some of the younger folk interrupted the conversation. Amongst the crowd, a lone figure walked over to the middle of the street.

“I’m at the Bodega nearby my place” you replied, trying to be nonchalant with him. However, somehow that lone figure standing managed to capture your attention, "Huh! Strange...”

“What is it?”

Your eyebrows furrowed the moment the figure turned to face your direction. Familiarity was quite strong in him. “There’s this guy here…” you said, “… who looks just like-”

You froze, “Oh no!” You breathed.

The moment the figure effortlessly pulled out a portable machine gun from his oversized long coat, it clearly dawned on you on who he really was:

“Mr. Slender?” You muttered to yourself.

Pointing the weapon upwards, loud and rapid shots were fired, causing panic amongst the public. The shock forced your hands to lose control, almost dropping your phone to the ground.

“Hello? Hello?”

You heard Bruce loud and clear, yet you were not in the right state of mind to respond. The chaos, certainly forced your heart to beat right out of your chest. The beating, increased without any prior announcement shocked you, as if the live, blood pumping organ might literally fall out of your flesh vessel.

“EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND, NOW!”

Mr.Slender bellowed, finally revealing his masculine and controlled voice. The public, including those inside the Bodega made their way to the ground. With Mr. Slender’s reinforcements inside the building, it was made sure no one were to reach out for law enforcement any time soon. Just when it seemed all had complied to his command, one obstinate young man rose up quickly.

“Hey man!” The man cried out, walking over to him, “Be cool…Be-”

“I SAID ON THE GROUND!”

Blood curdling screams erupted from the crowd when Mr.Slender brutally fired at the man, sending him flying back, falling on to the ground like a bloody piece of meat. Given the continuous reactions from the people nearby, he was certainly dead. Emptiness and fear swallowed you whole upon witnessing this.

“DON’T EVEN THINK OF BEING STUBBORN!! ”

Mr.Slender yelled out, brandishing his gun around, “MY DEMANDS ARE SIMPLE...”

He continued, “I’M LOOKING FOR ONE PARTICULAR PERSON…” he said, “AND I WILL NOT LEAVE…UNTIL THAT PERSON STEPS FORWARD!!”

Scenes such as these, they were never expected but only imagined in modes of fiction. Be it novels or films. However, when you truly got to taste it in the rusty reality, only then did you realize the gravity of its horror. And only then at that fateful moment, did you genuinely fear for your precious life.

Especially when the person he was looking for, was you.

——————————————————

Chapter 6 HERE

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 15

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 15 - Stage

Since it wasn't time for the audience to enter the venue yet, the auditorium, which could accommodate two thousand people, was only sparsely occupied, and the person in charge of the event was still shouting out instructions about the final arrangement of the rostrum. After entering from the staff passage, Lin Yan pulled A-Yan and found their seat in the middle of the fourth row. Indeed, as Weiwei said, he had a good view of the stage, only sitting behind the pink-labelled school officials and special guests.

Unexpectedly, there was already a boy sitting next to Lin Yan's seat. "I'm sorry, can we squeeze by." Lin Yan said. When the boy looked up, it turned out to be the guy playing on the PSP he saw in the front hall. He had a long face, like a grasshopper, with acne covering the young appearance. After having his game was interrupted, his mouth pinched into an impatient expression and leaned back slightly to give the little Daoist priest and Lin Yan room to pass.

He probably also came in through the back door. I saw him queuing at the door just now, Lin Yan thought. To make A-Yan feel more comfortable, he left the left seat closest to the PSP guy open for Xiao Yu, sat in the middle, and opened the event pamphlet to start reading. The booklet was well-made and had some weight in his hand. Lin Yan could get a general idea of the event by skimming through the pages. This lecture focused on the identification of cultural relics from the Chenghua period of the Ming Dynasty. The colour pages were printed with images of porcelain, jade, calligraphy, and paintings. After the portion of interactive activities, there was no more detail on the event. Lin Yan handed the book to the empty seat on his left and asked softly, "Do you recognize anything?"

The PSP guy sitting next to him turned his head and looked at Lin Yan puzzledly. Lin Yan was a little embarrassed, took the pamphlet back, and said nonchalantly, "I wasn't talking to you."

PSP guy gave him an irritated glance.

The rostrum had been set up, and the audience filed in through the side doors on the sides of the auditorium, and noise flooded into the lecture hall. Xiao Yu didn't seem to like crowded places. He tore Lin Yan's hand from the pamphlet and gripped it in his hand. Lin Yan was a little flustered. From the perspective of others, his left hand was hanging stiffly in the air. He tried to twist his hand away a few times but to no avail. He compromised and rested their hands on the armrest.

After the audience was seated, Professor Chen, with his file folder aura, walked out onstage. His black suit and red striped tie made him look very refined. The professor sat down at the podium, cleared his throat after fiddling with the microphone and notebook, and then the host appeared on the stage. The auditorium darkened, leaving only the background Powerpoint and the spotlight on the host.

"The lecture has officially started. Today we are honoured to invite an expert in cultural relic identification. Professor Chen, an identification researcher from the Palace Museum, will give you a lecture on the appreciation and collection of antiques from the Chenghua period. . ." the host read.

The auditorium was dark, the audience was very polite, and even though the lecture hall was filled with 2,000 people, it was completely silent. Lin Yan turned his head to the left and almost jumped up in fright. There was a person sitting in the empty seat. He looked out of place among the crowd of well-dressed students. His long hair blocked most of his face, which was partially visible from Lin Yan's point of view. With a straightened nose and pale skin, his thin lips were pressed together tightly, staring at the podium intently. In the blue light and shadows from the stage, the large bloodstains on his clothes were particularly strange. Lin Yan's hands unconsciously shook. Xiao Yu turned his head to look at him. A pair of fierce black pupils appeared behind his black hair, and his hand squeezed harder as if he thought Lin Yan was going to run away.

He wasn't sure if the ghost's image was frozen from the time of his death. Lin Yan tried to calm his heartbeat. While wondering if he could change his clothes, he thought it would be a good idea if he could freshen up and change so as not to scare him to death by showing up in the middle of the night. Lin Yan touched Ah Yan, nodded his head in Xiao Yu's direction, and whispered, "Can you see him?"

A-Yan suspiciously shook his head.

Lin Yan heaved a sigh of relief. He really didn't want to be compared to the unlucky actor in "Coming Soon" sitting next to a ghost in the movie theatre.

"In the first part of the lecture, we asked Professor Chen to explain the basic knowledge and rules of antique identification with a few pieces of his own collection as examples. The second part is for interaction. We will invite ten students to come to the stage for a small activity. Whoever wins the activity can ask Professor Chen to engrave a seal as a souvenir. . ."

There was a commotion in the audience. Lin Yan was a little puzzled. He turned his head and asked A-Yan what was so strange about it. "This--this teacher's seal cutting, books, and calligraphy are very famous, and it's not cheap to get him to engrave something," A-Yan said softly.

The host closed the script and continued: ". . . and you can ask any questions you have after the event. Professor Chen will be happy to answer your various questions about the field, career orientation or professional-related questions."

Lin Yan frowned. This sounded tempting. It would take longer to ask Xiao Yu about things. Maybe he had to play psychological warfare. . . Lin Yan thought.

After the applause, the host left the stage, the spotlight went out, and only the Powerpoint on the backdrop was left on, dowsing the entire venue with blue shining light. Professor File Folder took a sip of water and said a few simple opening remarks before beginning his lecture. The first photo released was a small blue and white crane with an elaborate pattern on it. It was an ordinary shape, but the colour was elegant and sophisticated, the material texture was fine and the enamel was thick. It was in line with the solemn and simple characteristics of the Chenghua period.

"During the Ming Dynasty's Chenghua period, porcelain pieces were minimalistic and light, and it was typically tooth-white or blood-red when seen in the light. It was a milky-cream finish, lustrous and clean. The piece's glaze was also very precise, very skilled application and accentuating the colour. In terms of colour, the decorative lines are slender, and the double-line outline filling method is used to make the filling colour appear lighter. It's worth mentioning that in this period, the Doucai technique was an innovation with its exquisite and delicate application of colour. . ."

When Professor File Folder moved on, a girl wearing a light green phoenix skirt flashed into view backstage. In the vermilion lacquer tray in his hand were a pair of bamboo-leaf bowls. They were decorated with a sky-blue background covered in green bamboo leaves. Lin Yan thought it was a little disdainful. These things were available on the market; the pair would only cost 50,000 yuan, which was much cheaper than the pieces the professor was presenting.

After finishing the discussion on the porcelain, the powerpoint slide changed to a daffodil hairpin by the famous engraver Lu Zigang. Even though it was only a picture, it was clear to see that the carving was exquisite, the details so fine they were as thin as a hair. Professor File Folder began to explain the appreciation of jade illustrated faintly in the photo, and the girl from backstage came out with one. She held the white jade seed high up in her hand. The white jade was crystal clear in the light of the small spotlight, and its carving is also finely detailed. The girl turned the tray to reveal the skin on its back. Lin Yan frowned when she saw it.

"Can anyone evaluate this carving?" File Folder asked melancholically.

No one answered, and the audience stayed silent. Lin Yan murmured, "It's a duplicate." He thought that his voice was low enough, but the auditorium was too quiet, so his voice reached the podium with ease.

The professor's eyes lit up and he called out to him, "Go on."

Lin Yan's face flushed red. He hesitated for a while, stood up reluctantly, and motioned to it: "There is no doubt that the quality of jade is a good seed material, but in the process of refining it, in order to ensure it would sell at a good price, the merchant re-skinned the jade. A layer of fake autumn pear skin does not affect the price, nor does it make it a fake, it just looks awkward."

File Folder nodded approvingly. When Lin Yan sat down, his heart was still thumping. He didn't like speaking in public. Even if this were a normal lecture, there were still 2000 people in the room. If he said something wrong, it will be embarrassing so Lin Yan was anxious.

"Your--Your vision is really good." The little Daoist said softly: "I doubt I'm the only one who thinks so."

The low and soft voice made Lin Yan's heart relax. Just as he was going to brush off the compliment, a hand clamped over his shoulder, and Lin Yan fell directly on Xiao Yu's lap with a hard tug. An icy breath brushed over him. A chilled hand pinched his chin, thumb lightly stroked his cheeks, long hair hanging down and tickling his neck. Lin Yan tried to push off Xiao Yu's knees to prop himself up, but Xiao Yu refused, and the two of them sat in a stalemate in the dark.

Lin Yan forgot that he was the only one who could see Xiao Yu. This scene must be extremely weird in the eyes of others. The boy who had just answered the professor's question practically fell into the empty seat next to him, looking like he could not get up no matter how hard he tried. . .

"What's wrong with you?" The PSP man rolled his eyes at Lin Yan and shifted away in disgust.

Lin Yan struggled to sit upright. He apologized to the PSP guy embarrassingly and continued to listen to the lecture focusing on the back of the seat in front of him. Only he knew what was actually happening. A ghost, a person who no one can see, was holding his waist unscrupulously, slowly kissing up his neck. The tip of his cold nose brushed the side of his face, around his ears, and let out a low breath: "Hah. . ."

Lin Yan developed a layer of goosebumps, his arm stiffly supported on the back of the chair, his expression closed off. He licked his earlobe, a wet, soft and waxy feeling. His whole body shook, and the tip of his tongue licked around the mouth of his ear. Licking around, even poking his tongue in occasionally, the extremely ambiguous voice seemed to be infinitely louder in his ear. Lin Yan reached under his bangs to prop up his forehead with his hand and covered his eyes. He didn't have the dignity left to face anyone; he could only grit his teeth and try to control his breathing.

He couldn't hear what Professor File Folder was saying and suddenly his vision was blocked. Xiao Yu leaned in front of him, with his hands on the armrests on both sides of Lin Yan. His tongue licked back and forth on his lips. Itching, his heart twitched. He was angry, anxious and uncomfortable. Lin Yan desperately tried to recite the values of Marxism as a distraction; capitalism is characterized by squeezing surplus value. . . surplus value. . . squeeze out socialist surplus value. . . the doctrine will squeeze out surplus value. . . everything is all messed up. . . This was the worst possible time to be teased by the ghost, so what should he do. . . Lin Yan's eyes filled with tears. He looked at Xiao Yu pleadingly, pinching his arm gently and shaking his head.

The hand that had almost reached the top of his thigh finally retracted. Xiao Yu leaned over and kissed Lin Yan's lips before he sat back on the seat.

Thank god it's over, Lin Yan thought sullenly.

"Next we move on to the second portion of the lecture. Ten students will be invited to the stage to participate in a mini-game of antique identification. We have prepared ten collections for you to authenticate. The person with the most correct answers can specify to Professor Chen what they want specially engraved." The host had changed to a girl in a red jacket skirt, she spoke sweetly into the microphone.

Lin Yan was still in a state of adrenaline surge and hadn't recovered.

"The student who spoke just now, Professor Chen invites you to come up."

There was silence in the auditorium. Lin Yan raised his head and looked at the host blankly, wondering why he didn't continue? A-Yan pushed Lin Yan and whispered, "They--They're calling you."

Lin Yan stood up hesitantly, pointed to himself, and asked the girl in the red jacket skirt, "Me?"

There was a burst of laughter in the audience. The host was afraid of being rude. She held the mic and joked: "This classmate must have been asleep."

The temperature of Lin Yan's face that had finally cooled off soared again. He was terrible at playing games in public. A single mistake would make him nervous. Lin Yan cautiously pushed off the back of the chair and headed up. He couldn't help but looked back and give Xiao Yu a fierce look. The ghost calmly followed him through the rows of people blocking the way. He walked with a unique posture. Even though he was barefoot and covered with bloodstains, he doesn't look decrepit. He stood tall with his back straight, unlike the current students around him with slumped shoulders thanks to their education system.

Lin Yan walked onto the stage, shifting his posture to avoid having to turn and face the crowd.

The purple curtain behind the podium opened, exposing the wide space behind. Under the warm stage lights, there were ten antique square tables lined up with grand tutor chairs, and an elegant mahogany brocade box was placed on a raised platform in front of them. The other nine people had already stood at the tables to the right, and the closest person Lin Yan was the PSP guy.

The host raised his hand to signal Lin Yan to join them: "In order to be more in line with today's discussion, these ten students will go backstage to change into some costumes. Professor Chen and the audience are invited to take a break while they get changed and return soon."

Lin Yan glanced out into the audience and saw that the stage lights were blinding. The three rows of school officials and guests near the front of the stage were sitting in plain sight. Beyond that was a crowd of people that he couldn't make out because of the lights. This was only one floor. Lin Yan's legs felt like noodles when he looked up, and the crowd on the second floor remaining silent. Four large cameras with small red lights were facing him. Lin Yan felt that his whole body was covered in crawling ants. His chest was being crushed by a large stone, and his lungs were being squished until they couldn't get any air into them.

If he could, he wanted to escape and drive away immediately. After taking a few deep breaths, Lin Yan clenched his fists and followed the team backstage behind the curtain.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost #yaoi novel #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #danmei #yaoi

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